Picking a Fight

The bartender's eyes lit up with the desperate hunger of a man in a drought the moment he saw the magazine from the old era.

He swallowed hard, his cracked hands trembling with excitement as he reached out, muttering incessantly, "Enough... that's enough! This book is worth more than filling the remaining half of the canteen!"

However, just as his hand was about to touch the tattered pages, Xia Leng suddenly pressed his hand down on the magazine, pinning it to the bar.

"I think this magazine is worth more than just half a canteen. Fill this canteen as well, and the magazine is yours."

Xia Leng pulled another empty one-liter canteen from his backpack, tossed it onto the bar, and stated emotionlessly.

The bartender's face turned ashen at these words, his mouth twitching. "Don't push your luck. I can give you at most one more liter. You have to understand that pure drinking water in this era is comparable to gold from the old days. Besides, our company has regulations—a limit of two liters per person per week. That extra liter is already coming out of my own personal share."

"Is that so? Then forget it. If I take this magazine to your company's Fortress Market to trade, I should be able to get about five liters of pure water."

Xia Leng made a move to retrieve the magazine, and the bartender immediately threw half his body over it, his expression one of agonizing conflict, as if he were being carved alive.

"Fine, damn it! Don't tell anyone about this; consider it a private transaction between us!"

The bartender gritted his teeth, then grabbed the two empty canteens and the magazine, preparing to head behind the bar to fill them.

"Give me back that bag of crystals, too. The magazine is more than enough to pay for your water."

Xia Leng crooked a finger, watching with a faint smile as the other man rolled his eyes and tossed the bag of crystals back to him, deciding not to torment the bartender any further.

However, the unconcealable joy on the bartender's face proved that the value of this magazine in his heart far exceeded that of the source of life—pure water.

It seemed he was a man who valued "spiritual sustenance" as well...

Xia Leng sat in his original spot, waiting for the bartender to return from the back, watching the chaotic, swirling crowd on the dance floor with listless boredom.

The people dancing mostly reeked of years of unwashed filth; after all, in days where there wasn't even enough water to drink, few people—aside from the high-ranking members of major mercenary companies—had spare water for bathing.

If one were to bathe in water contaminated by the Black Rain, their skin would likely fester and rot away entirely after the wash...

Still, although these people were filthy, their skin hadn't rotted away like other drifters, meaning they weren't carrying a collection of infectious diseases; otherwise, the security at the entrance wouldn't have let them in.

Just as Xia Leng was waiting for the bartender to finish filling his water, a sudden impact from behind sent the low-grade crystals in his bag scattering across the table.

Under normal circumstances, Xia Leng would have sensed an impact from behind and dodged it in advance.

But in this frenzied, restless environment, combined with his deliberate lowering of his sensory perception, he had been caught off guard.

Xia Leng turned his head to see one of the members of the wasteland biker gang he had encountered on the road earlier!

His open leather jacket, prickly chest hair, thick beard, the rare and bloated beer belly, and the sunglasses he wore regardless of the time of day all signaled that he was not a man to be trifled with.

Seeing Xia Leng turn to look at him with indifference, the burly man flashed a savage, "apologetic" grin. "What are you looking at? I was just drunk and bumped into you. Keep staring and see if I don't gouge your eyeballs out!"

He glared viciously at the fair-skinned youth before him. Meanwhile, another biker member quietly approached from behind, and while his companion distracted the target, he stealthily reached a thick hand into the backpack sitting on the table.

The biker responsible for the distraction noticed the "skinny chicken" was still staring at him with cold indifference and prepared to fly into a rage, but the moment he locked eyes with those dark, icy pupils, he shivered uncontrollably, as if he had been plunged into a bottomless abyss of ice!

For a moment, he felt an inexplicable, overwhelming fear of this slender youth!

As for the member tasked with the theft, he was puzzled to see his companion trembling, but he had already felt a smooth pistol inside the backpack. Just as he excitedly prepared to pull it out—

He suddenly felt his wrist tighten, as if clamped by iron pliers, trapping his hand inside the bag!

Then, a heart-wrenching pain shot from his wrist, forcing a cry of agony from his throat, though it was drowned out by the deafening music and cheering.

His eyes bulging with terror, he saw Xia Leng's slender fingers pinching his wrist through the fabric of the backpack, immovable no matter how hard he struggled.

He couldn't fathom how this skinny youth could possess such immense strength. Could he be a strength-type Baptized One?!

At this moment, the remaining three biker members, who had been watching the situation closely from another table, noticed the anomaly.

They saw one companion trembling uncontrollably while being stared at by the youth, and the other with his head tilted back and mouth wide open, apparently screaming in pain.

Realizing something was wrong, the three of them quickly stood up and strode over.

When they got close, they saw the truth.

The biker being stared at by Xia Leng looked as if he were under a curse, his body already drenched in sweat.

The other was clutching his trapped hand, letting out waves of heart-rending screams...

"You bastard!!!"

Seeing this, the three newly arrived accomplices ignored the bizarre situation and, in a fit of rage, pulled sharp daggers from their waists and stabbed viciously at the right hand Xia Leng was using to pin their companion's wrist!

Xia Leng was, of course, aware of the sneak attack from behind. Even if he didn't move, the tentacles extending from various parts of his body would have defended him, and he could have easily shredded the men behind him into a bloody pulp to be absorbed into his body...

But Xia Leng was forcibly restraining the virus within him from launching an autonomous attack.

Because in a place as crowded and public as this, if he revealed his terrifying, unseen abilities, word would spread, and he would likely become prey or a test subject for the major mercenary companies!

Thus, Xia Leng intended to handle this situation himself!

Just as he released his tight grip on the wrist inside his bag and prepared to use his elbow to counter-attack the man stabbing at him from behind—

Suddenly, a much thicker palm reached out from behind and clamped onto the hand of the biker holding the dagger. With a seemingly casual twist, Snap~

The unfortunate biker's palm was twisted a full three hundred and sixty degrees on the spot, then hung limply against his wrist. After a brief moment of shock, he let out a scream even more miserable than his companion's...

The remaining two biker members were shocked. They turned around in a mix of fear and fury, only to find a man as tall as a mountain standing right behind them...