They had forcibly disguised the entire fleet, from the hulls to the decks, and even every person aboard, as a huge, dormant Eerie. Only by drifting down the river under this disguise had they managed to avoid the roaming Eerie and last so long on this dead river.
But they had forgotten-Eerie could evolve!
More than three months had passed since the apocalypse descended. Those monsters were no longer the clueless things they had been at the start.
Their eyes grew brighter, their claws sharper. They had even learned to distinguish disguised auras, to lie in wait, and to hunt.
Just when you thought you had figured out the patterns of the Eerie and could survive by working around their rules, death had already set its sights on you without a sound!
What they had committed was the fatal error of relying on past experience!
They had originally intended to prey on other predators, using supply trading as bait to lure other convoys into spending the night on this riverbank, then letting the Eerie devour their prey for them.
Meanwhile, they would wear the guise of Eerie, mingle with the monsters, and reap the rewards.
After all, past experience had taught them that Eerie did not attack their own kind. They would only target the living convoys lured here.
Over these three months and more, who knew how many convoys had become meals for the Drifting Fleet, or how many people had become sludge on the riverbed.
If an ordinary convoy had come this time, or if its captain had merely belonged to the Pathfinder Sequence and failed to see through the disguise, the Drifting Fleet's plan would definitely have succeeded.
Unfortunately, they had targeted Old Cao's convoy.
What Old Cao did best was calculate survival probabilities.
Page after page of his notebook, its cover worn through, was densely packed with numbers. Through over forty thousand simulations, he had long since calculated possibilities such as "encountering high-level Eerie" and "the disguise being exposed" in meticulous detail.
Old Cao's catchphrase: data never lies!
Thinking of the survival probabilities in Old Cao's notebook!
But in that instant, Yang Yong came to a realization.
Right now.
Staying here without moving, holding his breath, and even lowering his heartbeat as much as possible was actually the option with the highest survival probability at present.
He finally understood the core of an apocalyptic Survival Convoy.
Data was never just for show. Only by grasping every number in your own hands and calculating every risk to the utmost could you snatch back that sliver of hope at death's door.
This was the ability of the Data Analyst Sequence!
A terrifying ability!
This ability reminded Yang Yong of a certain "ninety-eight percent" character from a webnovel in his previous life, someone cautious to the extreme!
Every form of Sequence Transcendence had something extraordinary about it!
This was humanity's sliver of hope for survival in the Weird Apocalypse!
Once he had worked it all out, Yang Yong instantly felt more than half the pressure lift.
Especially as the sounds outside gradually faded and that huge creature left in pursuit of the Drifting Boat Fleet, he felt all the danger receding from him.
Only after relaxing completely did Yang Yong notice that the Thousand-Hammer, Hundred-Refinement Furnace inside him was continuously displaying notifications.
[Ding, Weird Artifact material detected...] [Ding, Weird Artifact material detected...]
The string of notifications all identified snake-related materials.
But...
Fuck!
At the mere thought of that huge creature outside, Yang Yong could not help breathing more softly. Just thinking about it made his scalp crawl. He reckoned that if he went out and it so much as glanced at him, he would die on the spot.
According to Li Min, captain of the Drifting Boat Fleet, that huge creature outside was fiercely territorial. It would first eliminate threatening targets before beginning to enjoy its feast.
And Captain Old Cao had calculated that as long as they held out until tomorrow morning, the survival probability for all of them could reach 80%.
The safest course right now was to stay put obediently, remain "appetizing, delicious food that wouldn't run away," and absolutely refrain from doing anything unnecessary.
If... if they changed the premises of Old Cao's calculations, the resulting trouble would be far beyond what they could bear.
The time that followed was sheer torment for Yang Yong.
He dared neither sleep nor move. All he could do was force himself to clear his mind and enter a meditative state.
Before transmigrating, he had kept up a regular meditation practice. He had thought it was nothing more than a useless pastime, never expecting it to actually prove useful in this apocalyptic world!
This was fucking awesome!
So it wasn't that Huaxia's traditions were useless, but that his old world no longer had the soil to sustain these mystical arts.
After entering a meditative state, the first thing Yang Yong felt was an unprecedented clarity of mind. Then a strange energy slowly flowed into his body.
He focused on sensing it carefully, and the next second, his pupils abruptly contracted.
Holy shit!
This was... Red Moon energy!
That was the very source of the Eerie!
In the three months since the apocalypse descended, Yang Yong had become all too familiar with this energy.
When the apocalypse first began, many people had stared at the suddenly appearing Red Moon for a long time out of curiosity. Without exception, they had all gone mad!
Yet now, simply by performing his usual meditation, he could actually absorb Red Moon energy.
As soon as the thought arose, Yang Yong thought of the Thousand-Hammer, Hundred-Refinement Furnace inside him.
For now, he would call this thing that had accompanied him through transmigration a magical treasure.
Although this thing displayed system notifications, it only worked intermittently.
The moment he thought of the Thousand-Hammer, Hundred-Refinement Furnace, Yang Yong felt his mind jolt violently, followed by a dizzying sensation of the world spinning...
When he regained consciousness, the scene before him had changed completely.
Mist shrouded his surroundings, reducing visibility to almost nothing. Only a curved wall standing before him was particularly clear.
Could... this be the inside of the Thousand-Hammer, Hundred-Refinement Furnace?
Yang Yong keenly noticed that something seemed to be carved into the wall.
He focused his gaze on it, only for his expression to freeze instantly.
Fuck!
He did not recognize a single character written there!
Those twisted characters might as well have been an utterly indecipherable script.
Even so, Yang Yong refused to give up just like that.
How could he enter a mountain of treasure and leave empty-handed!
He stared fixedly at the writing on the wall. After an unknown amount of time, the corners of his eyes gradually grew sore, and tears flowed uncontrollably, blurring his vision.
Just then, a red light abruptly flashed.
In a daze, he saw those previously obscure, incomprehensible characters slowly begin to change and rearrange themselves. Finally, clear traditional Chinese characters appeared before his eyes!
Yang Yong read, utterly engrossed, but before he had finished even thirty characters, an intense pain suddenly exploded deep within his mind.
"Argh...!"
He could not help clutching his head and rolling on the ground in agony.
Another red light flashed.
The next second, his consciousness was abruptly dragged back to reality.
Inside the van, everything was still dark. Only a faint glimmer of light struggled through a gap in the window.
Was it daylight?
Had that much time actually passed?
He clearly felt he hadn't spent long in that space-thirty minutes at most-and it was already daylight?
Right! Old Cao!
Yang Yong removed the covering over the window. He wanted to go find Cao Xianming.
He now had a bellyful of questions, and he would not be satisfied until he got them out!
Before you continue