Keeping watch?
The broken bricks pressed against his ribs, but Lu Heng didn't change his position. The wind blew in from the other end of the street, bringing the smell of dust into his nostrils. He breathed very slowly, so slowly that the rise and fall of his chest was almost invisible.
The Bone Demon crouched to the side and behind, its massive body pressed against the base of the broken wall, resembling a lifeless skeleton. It stretched out its claws, unconsciously scratching at the plaster, causing dust to fall.
One hundred and twenty meters away, the small building where Song Yunzhong had settled stood. The outer wall was covered with withered vines, and the windows on the first floor were nailed shut with wooden boards and iron cabinets, leaving only two windows on the second floor for ventilation. High on the outer wall, a spider-like Zombie with eight limbs gripping the brick seams was coiled on the outer edge of the second and third floors, its compound eyes scanning the streets and alleys without moving.
Lu Heng watched it for a while. The thing he personally gave to Song Yunzhong back then was quite useful. It was alert, had a good perception radius, and was also powerful. It just stayed there, guarding the few people in the building.
There was some noise inside the building.
A crack opened in the second-floor window that wasn't fully sealed, and several small heads peered out, only to be gently ushered back by a woman. It was Song Yunzhong's younger sister. She looked better than he remembered; her face was fuller, and her hair was neatly combed. The large amount of food they had saved, along with the medicine and bandages they had stockpiled at the hospital, had all been put to good use.
After a while, the window was opened wider. Song Yunzhong leaned out halfway, holding the knife in his hand. He wiped it on his sleeve and tucked it back into his waistband. He whispered something into the building, and his sister came closer, her face filled with unease, gripping the window frame tightly.
A gust of wind blew in from the other side of the building, and Lu Heng's earlobe twitched almost imperceptibly.
"I'll go check and be right back. Lock the door, and don't open it for anyone."
The sound was low and intermittent, drifting over only in fragments. But that was enough.
Song Yunzhong retreated back into the building. When he peeked out again, he had a bag on his back, and the bag strap was being pulled and tugged repeatedly.
Lu Heng's eyes flickered slightly.
He wiped his knife, packed his things, and told his sister to lock the door—he was going out, and planned to go alone. The spider-like Zombie would stay behind in the building and wouldn't go with him.
In other words, once Song Yunzhong steps out of the spider-like Zombie's sensing range, he will be completely defenseless.
Lu Heng's gaze didn't linger on the small building for long, but slowly moved away, sweeping across the streets, collapsed courtyard walls, and the shadows of piles of rubble.
It stopped.
There was a figure behind the broken wall in the distance.
Five. One was crouching on the second floor, halfway up the floorboards, keeping watch, his legs dangling over the edge. Another was leaning against the wall, sharpening a knife, pushing the whetstone very slowly, one stroke at a time, without making a sound. A third was huddled behind the roof of a car further away, only half his face showing. The other two were leaning against the innermost corner, one of them with his arms crossed, squinting as he looked towards the small building.
His eyes weren't fierce; they were calculating.
Lu Heng's eyes turned cold.
He didn't move immediately, but continued watching.
They weren't a disorganized mob. There were sentries, knife sharpeners, scouts, and guards—the roles were clearly defined. Every so often, the sentries would be replaced, and the knife sharpeners would take their place. The scout was responsible for guarding the rear, while the two guards never moved—the leader with his arms crossed, and the henchman huddled in the corner.
My gaze was fixed on the small building from beginning to end.
The leader squinted, tapping his fingers lightly on his arm as if counting something. The knife sharpener honed his knife a couple of times, then glanced up at the small building's window, assessing its height, the thickness of the wooden planks, and the position of the spider-like Zombie on the exterior wall. Each time he peeked out, he only showed half an eye, then withdrew after observing the situation.
Look at this group of people.
Lu Heng lay motionless on the rooftop, mentally processing the situation: spider-like Zombie guarded the building, his sister and child were inside, and the refugees couldn't break in. But Song Yunzhong planned to go out alone to investigate today—once he left, he would be out of the spider-like Zombie ' perception range, with no defensive forces around him.
This is exactly what this group of people have been waiting for.
It's not about storming the building, it's about intercepting people.
Lu Heng continued to observe. The leader squinted at the small building, tapping his fingers lightly on his arm as if counting time. The knife sharpener honed his knife twice, then glanced up at the window of the small building, assessing the window height, the thickness of the wooden planks, and the position of the spider-shaped Zombie on the outer wall. Each time he peeked out, he only showed half an eye, then withdrew after observing.
They were waiting for Song Yunzhong to come out, waiting for him to be alone, waiting for him to leave the area protected by the spider-like Zombie.
This group of people had been at it for more than just a day or two. Observation, waiting, rotation, scouting—every step was imbued with patience. Patience meant planning, and planning meant they weren't just passing by; they were Song Yunzhong.
Danger.
"Interesting," Lu Heng said coldly, looking at the group of people.
My consciousness sank, and my vision shifted to a dull yellow tinged with gray.
The King Snake slithered out of the tattoo on his arm, undisturbed even by the wind. It glided slowly along the shadows of the wall, its belly scales grinding against broken bricks and dried mud, the rough texture transmitted back through shared senses. It traversed the dark passages of the ruins: the shadows of collapsed courtyard walls, gaps under piles of rubble, the inner walls of half-buried cement pipes, and narrow crevices under abandoned car chassis. It remained dry, its head hidden, even the dust it stirred up was kept low.
Using his snake-like senses, he counted the group of people ahead again. Five, about 120 meters from the small building, separated by two collapsed courtyard walls and a pile of rubble. At this distance, shouts wouldn't reach the small building, and the spider-like Zombie' perception range wouldn't be able to reach them.
First, locate the lookout on the second floor.
The King Snake slid out along the base of the wall, its belly scales crushing the bricks without making a sound. There was a crack on the outer facade of the broken wall, and the snake squeezed its body into it, brushing off some dust. Lu Heng immediately stopped for half a second, waiting for the dust to settle before continuing upwards.
The edge of the second-floor slab was right overhead. The sentry's two legs dangled there, his shoes less than a foot from the snake's head.
The King Snake coiled its body in the crack between the bricks, its front half slowly rising up, inch by inch, clinging to the wall.
The distance is enough. Lu Heng's mind settled.
The King Snake opened its jaws, its Poison Fang sprang out from the front of its mouth, and bit down on the dangling ankle. The sensation of the fangs piercing the flesh traveled back along the shared nerves, and at the same time, Lu Heng felt the snake's venom glands suddenly contract—the venom was forced into the wound through the hollow Poison Fang, a large, icy gush of it.
The sentry froze, his leg jerking back. He managed to utter only half a "fuck!" before the King Snake released its grip and shrank back into the crack between the bricks.
Lu Heng looked at the person: clutching his ankle, eyes wide open, gurgling in his throat, panting like a fish out of water. That dose of poison was enough to knock out five or six adults. The neurotoxin rushed upwards through his bloodstream, his eyelids began to droop, saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth, his legs went weak, and he slid off the edge of the floorboards, crashing onto the rubble with a muffled thud swallowed by the broken wall.
It twitched a few times, then stopped moving.
From biting in to collapsing and losing voice, it only took a few minutes.
The King Snake had already slid down the broken wall, swimming along the shadows of the rubble towards its next target—a man hiding behind a car roof, only half his face visible. The second man died even more quietly, peeking tentatively towards the small building, completely unaware that the broken bricks at his feet had moved. The King Snake approached from behind, stood upright, bit the back of his neck, injected venom, released, and slithered away. The man had just touched his neck when his legs went weak, and he collapsed forward into the rubble, scratching at the cracks between the bricks with his fingers, then remained motionless.
The third one was the one sharpening the knife. When he heard the noise and looked up, King Snake had already shoved it into his forearm—he instinctively raised his arm to block, but the Poison Fang bit through his sleeve and embedded themselves in his flesh. Lu Heng felt that Wang Sheya was still holding the rusty short knife in his other hand, the tip of the knife leaving a white mark on the ground, and the man had already slumped over.
The first three, from the first bite to the third falling, took less than five minutes in total.
There were no shouts, no gunshots. The small building stood quietly 120 meters away, and on the outer wall, a spider-shaped Zombie with eight limbs gripping the brick seams remained motionless.
Two remain.
The leader with the arm around the shoulder reacted the fastest—the instant his companion fell, he sprang up, dagger held to his chest, his eyes scanning the surroundings frantically. "Who?!"
Finally, he cowered in the corner, so scared that he covered his head and squatted down. He felt a heat in his crotch, and the stench of sex came from more than ten meters away.
Lu Heng could have let the King Snake bite the two of them as well, but he didn't.
They need to be alive. Where did this group come from? Are there any others left? They've been watching Song Yunzhong for several days; only survivors can answer these questions.
Withdrawing my senses from the snake, my vision shifted from the murky, dark yellow to the clear morning light. I lay behind the low wall at the edge of the rooftop, stretching my neck, which was slightly numb from prolonged single-line control.
The Bone Demon huddled to the side, not uttering a sound from beginning to end.
Lu Heng gestured to it: Block off the retreat route.
The Bone Demon slid silently away, its massive body hugging the edge of the rooftop as it circled around to the other side of the building, into the passageway between Kana's group and the ruins further away. With its size and strength, even if the two wanted to escape, they wouldn't be able to get out of this alley.
Then Lu Heng stood up, flipped off the roof, landed silently, and walked over the pile of rubble toward the group of people.
The footsteps crunched on the bricks, very light, but clear enough in the deathly silence of the ruins.
The leader turned his head sharply and saw a young man in a clean coat walking towards him from the sunlight. He wasn't carrying a gun, only a sheathed short knife hanging down, and his face was expressionless.
"You—" The leader raised his short sword, the tip pointing at Lu Heng, his hand trembling, "Who the hell are you?"
Upon hearing this, Lu Heng's gaze swept over the three corpses on the ground, which were still twitching slightly, before finally settling on Lu Heng's face.
He went straight over and kicked me to the ground, then stomped on me with force.
"Where are you from?" he asked, his tone as flat as if he were asking for directions.