Zhang Meng's consciousness gradually cleared amid intense pain.
He opened his eyes and found himself lying in a narrow, filthy street, surrounded by towering concrete buildings whose shadows trapped him like a cage.
This was a new world.
A voice suddenly appeared in his mind. "This is a world ruled by war, a place beyond anything you have ever imagined."
Heh, had the Deity thrown him in here again?
He could not help finding it amusing.
Sure enough, before gods, humans were like ants before humans.
He struggled to stand, but his body had yet to fully adapt to this world's gravity.
Just then, a group of people in ragged military uniforms emerged from the shadows of the alley. Their eyes were filled with hostility and madness.
They held clubs and chains, and neither the scars nor dirt on their faces could hide their savagery.
"New here?" one of them sneered, his voice laced with mockery.
Zhang Meng could not understand why they were so crazed.
Why were they so hostile?
Even in the two Doomsday Worlds, people would at least test each other first.
He tried to retreat, but his back was already pressed against the cold wall.
There was nowhere to run. The group closed in, moving swiftly and in an organized manner. Clearly, this was not their first time doing this.
"Wait, I'm—" Before Zhang Meng could finish, a club smashed into his shoulder.
Pain exploded through his shoulder, and dizziness washed over him.
He discovered that he had lost his Player Template.
How pathetic.
Was this really his final moment? Heh, was the Deity going to kick him while he was down too?
He could not help sneering inwardly.
He gritted his teeth, trying to remain conscious.
Clubs and chains rained down upon him, each blow