Information

The leader's face was pressed against the broken brick ground, he was panting from being trampled, and when he heard the question, his lips trembled as he squeezed out a few words.

"Inner... inner city area."

Lu Heng didn't loosen his grip. "Explain yourself."

"East of town, in the inner city area..." The leader swallowed a mouthful of bloody saliva. "Before the apocalypse, we used to hang around those streets, collecting protection money, guarding brothels, doing all sorts of dirty work. When chaos broke out, while others fled outwards, we scurried inwards—the inner city has dense buildings and many alleys, making it easy to hide and strike."

He took a couple of breaths, his voice weak. "Later, more and more daring people gathered, robbed several survivors who hadn't managed to escape, and occupied an old residential area deep in the inner city, setting it up as their hideout."

Inner city area.

Lu Heng's eyes flickered slightly.

The area at the foot of him, a semi-rural area, had been thoroughly cleaned by him, inch by inch, with streets, shops, and houses along the street. Not even a stray dog could hide there. So this group of people couldn't have come from the street—they had sneaked out from the inner city.

The city center, with its tightly packed buildings and alleyways, a mix of old residential areas and small commercial streets, is ten times more complex than this area. He hadn't even ventured deeper yet.

"Your boss?"

"Zhou Cheng. He ran a casino before the apocalypse, with over twenty men under his command, and he was armed." The leader spoke quickly, as if afraid that if he spoke too slowly, the soles of his boots would tighten. "We're just the lowest-level errand runners, the scavenging team, out to find supplies and keep watch on targets. We're not allowed into the core area."

Who are they watching?

The leader froze for a moment.

His boot stomped against the floor, and he immediately exclaimed, "The people in that little building! We've been watching them for almost a week!"

Why?

"That spider." The leader's voice tightened. "The spider Zombie beside him follows him everywhere, but it never bites him. Our boss has a device that can control Zombie, we can tell at a glance, that kid probably has the same one."

Lu Heng's expression remained unchanged. "There's more..."

"That building is so clean," the leader said with his eyes closed. "The children are well-fed and clean, the lights aren't on at night, and there are no signs of fighting or squabbling. The world is like this; it means resources are plentiful and there's plenty of money to be made." The leader added, "It's a shame not to fleece such a fat sheep."

After he finished speaking, he collapsed to the ground and waited.

Lu Heng remained silent.

A gust of wind blew in from the other end of the alley, making his clothes flutter. He stared at the person at his feet, but his mind was preoccupied with something else.

Props.

Even the leader of a group of street thugs possessed a control-type artifact.

In the immediate aftermath of the apocalypse, ordinary people did have ways to obtain these things. They were scattered in ruins, basements, and the pockets of some dead person, like nameless seeds; whoever bent down and picked them up got to keep them.

The world is far more complex than he imagined.

"What else does your boss have?" he asked.

"No... it's gone, really gone." The leader opened his eyes, his face covered in blood and ash. "Just one prop, and we weren't even allowed to touch it..."

Lu Heng looked at him.

I looked at it for two seconds.

"I've finished asking," he said.

The sole of the boot suddenly pressed down.

The sound of bones cracking was crisp, like stepping on a piece of dry firewood. The leader's eyes widened, his mouth opened, he made two hoarse sounds, but said nothing. His body twitched a few times and went limp.

Lu Heng lifted his foot and walked towards the other three in the alley.

They knelt together, trembling like leaves. One of them had a wet patch on his crotch, and the smell of stench mixed with the stench of blood wafted over. No one ran, and no one begged for mercy; presumably, begging would have been useless.

Lu Heng did not use a knife.

One by one, he broke their throats. His movements were clean and without any unnecessary flourishes, as if he were performing a routine task. In less than half a minute, he was the only one left standing in the alley.

He raised his right hand.

A dark red light shone from his palm, the temperature soared, and the air distorted for a moment. Incandescent flames spread from his palm, licking the four corpses—flesh, bones, and clothes—burning quickly with almost no smoke, only a dry, acrid smell.

The fire was extinguished in less than a minute.

There was only a thin layer of dust left on the ground, which would dissipate with a gust of wind, and not much was left at the base of the wall.

Lu Heng clapped his hands and turned to walk towards the alleyway.

Then it stopped.

A person was standing at the intersection.

He had a buzz cut, wore a faded camouflage jacket, and carried an empty backpack. He stood there motionless, his gaze moving from Lu Heng's face to the thin layer of dust on the ground, and then back again.

Song Yunzhong.

The two men stood a dozen steps apart, neither speaking first. The wind swirled dust between them, and Song Yunzhong smelled the burning odor, but he didn't ask.

"What are you doing here?" Lu Heng asked first, his tone as flat as if he were asking for directions.

"I know someone's been watching the hideout these past few days," Song Yunzhong said steadily. "After all, I'm a veteran; my instincts for reconnaissance and detecting hostility are still there. It's just that I haven't been able to pinpoint their location or how many people are hiding there, so I don't dare risk taking the child with me."

Lu Heng glanced at him.

He had always thought Song Yunzhong was the kind of person who needed protection—a child, a resident of the building, and the only way he'd survived was by being law-abiding. But those few words he just spoke—so organized, so judgmental, so thoughtful—not a single word came out of panic.

The essence of a veteran is etched into their bones; it remains even after they take off their uniform.

"Did you deal with that group?" Song Yunzhong asked.

"Hmm."

"We bumped into them on the way," Lu Heng said. "A bunch of vagrants and hooligans, just eyeing your supplies."

He spoke very casually, as if he were saying it was windy today.

What he didn't say was that this group came from the inner city, and they had a leader named Zhou Cheng behind them. There were more than twenty of them, and they were armed with weapons and tools that could control Zombie. They were entrenched in an old residential area deep in the inner city.

Song Yunzhong didn't need to know these things.

The more a person with a family knows, the less restful their sleep becomes. And those who can't sleep well don't live long.

Song Yunzhong looked at him, seemingly sensing something being suppressed, but his lips moved without asking further.

"You came out because we're running out of supplies?" Lu Heng asked.

Song Yunzhong shook the empty backpack in his hand, smiled, but there was no ease in his smile; rather, it was a resigned clarity. "The supplies and medicine you provided are indeed sufficient. But in the apocalypse, we can't just sit around and do nothing. I need to understand the surrounding environment, investigate potential dangers, and pave the way for the children's long-term survival."

He paused, then said, "We can't stay hidden behind that wall forever."

Lu Heng didn't respond to that sentence.

He was silent for a moment, then reached inside his coat and pulled out a revolver, its metal casing gleaming coldly in the overcast sky. He walked over and handed it to Song Yunzhong.

"Take it."

Song Yunzhong looked down at the gun but didn't take it immediately.

"We only have a few bullets left," Lu Heng said. "Use them sparingly, in case of an emergency."

Song Yunzhong looked up, met Lu Heng's gaze for two seconds, and reached out to take the gun. It was heavier than he had imagined. He pulled back the magazine and glanced inside—four bullets, gleaming yellow.

He pushed the magazine back in, put the gun into the inner pocket, and zipped it up.

"Thanks."

"No need." Lu Heng had already turned around, "Keep an eye on the child."

He left. His footsteps echoed in the empty alley for a while, then disappeared after turning two corners.

Song Yunzhong stood still.

The wind blew again, carrying that faint smell of burning. He looked down at the ground; the layer of ash had been blown away by the wind, leaving only a few remnants at the base of the wall. If you didn't look closely, you would think it was the embers left from some fire.

He reached into the inner pocket and touched the gun; it was hard and pressed against his ribs.

Then he turned and walked toward the stronghold. His steps were slow but steady, and his back was straighter than when he came.

Lu Heng walked on the abandoned highway.

The sky was low and overcast, with gray-white clouds pressing down on the distant buildings like a dirty rag covering our heads. The road was cracked in countless places, from which gray-white weeds grew, withering and growing back, growing and withering again; no one knew how they survived.

On both sides were collapsed walls and crooked lampposts. The power lines were long gone, and a few pieces of rusty wire still hung from the poles, swaying gently in the wind.

Several howls came from afar, indistinguishable as those of Zombie or wild dogs. The sounds were drawn out by the wind and by the time they reached my ears, they had lost their threatening meaning and were just empty sounds.

Lu Heng put his hands in his pockets.

There was only one thing on his mind.

Inner city area.

Zhou Cheng.

A former casino owner, he has over twenty men under his command, armed with weapons and control devices, and he's based in an old neighborhood deep within the inner city.

It was an unknown region he had never been to before, a post-apocalyptic force established by humanity itself.

Unlike Zombie, humans are cunning, deceptive, and patient. They might lie in wait for a week, observing your routine, calculating your weaknesses, and then, when you're most vulnerable, stab you in the back.

Lu Heng tightened his grip on the knife handle.

He led the Bone Demon over.