The campfire flickered in the darkness, casting twisted shadows across the ruined walls of the abandoned factory.
Luo Fan and Jiang Shengnan jumped off Black Bird's back and walked toward the convoy parked beside the factory.
The convoy was small: two modified off-road vehicles, a battered minibus, and a few motorcycles, with roughly twenty people.
An aluminum pot hung over the campfire, its contents bubbling away.
A faint aroma of meat drifted through the air, mingled with the smells of diesel and rust.
When two strangers emerged from the darkness, everyone in the convoy stopped what they were doing.
The middle-aged woman stirring the pot put down her spoon, the young man wiping a short blade beside the fire looked up, and a burly man leaning against an off-road vehicle's door instinctively straightened.
All eyes settled on Luo Fan and Jiang Shengnan, their faces showing the wariness and scrutiny so common in the apocalypse.
Their captain was a man who looked to be in his early thirties, wearing a badly worn tactical vest, with a long saber hanging at his waist.
A pair of Monitoring Glasses rested on his nose, and the rings of light on the lenses quickly locked onto the two newcomers.
When those two numbers appeared, his pupils abruptly contracted.
Lv53!
Lv51!
Two Fifth-Tier Sequence Users.
His fingers involuntarily tightened around his saber's hilt.
What did it mean to be a Fifth-Tier Sequence User?
He had scraped by in this apocalypse for almost two years, and the strongest person he had ever seen had only been at the fourth tier.
Yet now, two fifth-tier users had appeared before him at once. A lineup like this would have been enough to stop hearts anywhere.
He instinctively stepped forward, shielding several ordinary survivors behind him.
Jiang Shengnan spoke first,