Other people
The sounds of fighting deep inside the bridge arch had been going on for far too long.
The Bone Demon's massive body loomed in the center of the bridge arch, its arms swinging mechanically, each punch accompanied by the dull thud of bones shattering. It possessed no intelligence, no judgment, only the most primal and absolute instinct for defense—to intercept anything that approached the life form behind it.
But this time, it wasn't facing a few scattered Zombie, but a horde of fifty or sixty zombies drawn by the smell of blood.
The effect of quantity suppression is beginning to show.
The Bone Demon's defensive perimeter was constantly being squeezed. A dozen Zombie were clinging tightly to its arms and torso in front of it, trying to drag it down with brute force; new Zombie kept squeezing in from the gaps on its flanks, roaring as they pounced into the depths of the bridge arch. No matter how fast the Bone Demon moved, it could not cover all directions at the same time.
Three.
No, four.
Four Zombie tore a gap from the left rear of the Bone Demon, bypassed its massive body, and pounced straight at Lu Heng, who was lying on the ground.
Lu Heng remained in a deep coma, completely unaware of his surroundings. His body lay limply on the cold ground, his breathing weak, his face pale, like a soulless shell.
The stench of the four Zombie had closed to within three meters.
The nearest Zombie opened its ripped jaw, its grayish-white eyes fixed on Lu Heng's neck, its withered fingers almost touching his collar—
Whoosh!
An arrow pierced the air and precisely struck the Zombie's skull.
The grayish-white eyeballs burst open, splattering rotten black brain matter all over the ground. The Zombie's body fell straight down like a puppet whose strings had been removed.
Immediately afterwards, the second, third, and fourth arrows pierced the air in succession, each accurately piercing the skull of a Zombie. The four Zombie had broken through the defense line all fell to the ground in less than two breaths, their skulls shattered, and they were silent forever.
The Bone Demon continued its desperate battle with the horde of corpses in the center of the bridge arch, its empty eye sockets gleaming with an eerie light, completely oblivious to everything happening behind it.
Two figures darted out of the shadows outside the bridge arch.
Leading the group was a lithe man, holding a short bow with seven or eight arrows left in his quiver. His sharp gaze swept across the inside of the bridge arch and quickly locked onto Lu Heng, who was lying on the ground.
"Alive," he whispered.
Behind him followed another person, slightly older, also holding a bow and on guard, his gaze quickly shifting between the Bone Demon and Lu Heng.
"That thing is still attacking, ignore it for now. Take the person away, quick."
The older man strode forward, knelt down to check Lu Heng's condition—his pulse was weak but stable, his breathing was even, he was in a deep coma, but his vital signs were still present. Without hesitation, he lifted Lu Heng up from the ground and carried him on his shoulder.
The young man, holding a bow, brought up the rear, his eyes fixed on the movement of the horde of zombies outside the bridge arch. The sounds of the Bone Demon's battle grew increasingly ferocious, drawing the horde of zombies firmly to the center of the arch, preventing any new Zombie from rushing towards them.
"Let's go."
The two quickly retreated from the bridge arch, swiftly making their way through a hidden alley and disappearing into the night.
Inside the bridge arch, the Bone Demon was still engaged in a bloody battle.
Its protective instincts drove it to intercept anything that approached it—but there was no one behind it. The life form it needed to protect was no longer there.
The Bone Demon didn't know.
It has no intelligence, no thought, and no awareness.
It only knows that something is approaching and it must intercept it.
The horde of corpses continued to pour into the bridge arch, and the Bone Demon continued to punch, smash, and tear tirelessly.
The human and the demon were completely separated at this moment.
the next day.
Sunlight.
The glaring, warm sunlight shone directly onto Lu Heng's face through a narrow crack in the window.
His eyelids twitched violently a few times, and his consciousness seemed to be slowly pulled out of deep water by an invisible hand. The light was too bright, so bright that he instinctively raised his arm and shielded his eyes with the back of his hand.
His fingertips touched the warm sunlight, the real temperature of daylight, which finally brought his hazy consciousness back to him.
He slowly opened his eyes.
An unfamiliar ceiling.
The grayish-white cement ceiling had several thin cracks, and there was a pale yellow water stain in the corner. It wasn't a bridge arch, it wasn't underground, it wasn't anywhere he was before he lost consciousness.
Lu Heng's heart suddenly raced.
He tried to prop himself up, his arms trembling as he strained—but his body still felt as heavy as lead. He managed to hold on for half his effort, but his arms gave way, and he collapsed back down.
But it's better than yesterday.
At least, he can move now.
My fingers can clench, and my arms can exert force. Although I can only barely support half of my body, I am no longer in the state of being completely limp and unable to lift even a single finger like yesterday.
"You're awake. Are you alright?"
An unfamiliar voice came from the side.
Lu Heng suddenly turned his head, his pupils contracted sharply, and all the muscles in his body tensed instinctively.
There was a person standing at the door.
No, to be precise, she was leaning against the door frame, holding an enamel mug in her hand, looking at him calmly.
Lu Heng quickly sized up the other party--
The man, in his forties or fifties, was not particularly burly, but stood ramrod straight, his back as straight as a steel nail. He had short hair with graying temples, a calm face, and sharp but non-aggressive eyes. He wore a faded old jacket with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his muscular forearms.
That posture, that gaze, that unconsciously vigilant stance—
Lu Heng quickly made a judgment in his mind: a soldier, or at least someone who has received formal military training.
But he wasn't sure. In the apocalypse, anyone could look like anything.
"Who are you?" Lu Heng asked, his voice hoarse like sandpaper scraping. "Where am I?"
The person at the door did not answer immediately, but instead slowly walked to the bedside with an enamel mug in hand and placed it on an old wooden table at the head of the bed.
"Have some water," he said.
Lu Heng didn't touch the cup; his gaze remained fixed on the other person.
The man seemed unfazed by his wariness, speaking calmly and directly:
"My name is Song Yunzhong. I'm a native of this place, a long-time resident of this city."
Aboriginal people.
These three words were like a pebble thrown into Lu Heng's mind, stirring up complex ripples.
Aboriginal people?
Does this city still have indigenous people?
In his mind, the city had long been overrun by Zombie and mutated creatures, and all survivors were either barely clinging to life in their strongholds or wandering through the ruins in search of survival. The term "indigenous people" meant those who had lived there since before the disaster and were still alive today.
Like those indigenous people who control the world order?
A complex mix of emotions welled up in Lu Heng's heart—warning, curiosity, confusion, and a hint of unease.
A person who can establish themselves as a "native" in a post-apocalyptic world must either possess immense strength, a profound background, or—a secret unknown to others.
Song Yunzhong seemed to have seen through his thoughts, but he didn't ask any questions. He just stood calmly by the bed, waiting for him to process it on his own.
The sun is shining brightly outside the window.
Lu Heng knew that from this moment on, he would no longer be facing only Zombie and mutated creatures—but also these people who had been kind to him.