91: The murderous intent hidden in the pink mist

Just as that heavy truck bus crushed those few broken road markers on the periphery of the "Execution Square," the originally pitch-black night seemed to have been violently stirred in a palette by someone, abruptly giving off a layer of ambiguous pink.

This wasn't some romantic aurora, but a smog that could corrode even the alveoli.

Su Chen's nostrils twitched slightly; even through the fresh air system, a sweet and greasy scent—like a mix of rotten peaches and formalin—seeped in everywhere.

Before he could even frown, the row of previously quiet indicator lights on the center console instantly erupted, the ear-piercing buzzing sounding as if it were about to saw through his eardrums.

[Warning: High concentration of neurotoxin spores detected, air hallucinogenic index soaring to 800%!]

"Weld all the vents shut." Su Chen's hands moved rapidly, clicking several times on the control screen to cut off the external circulation. "This mist isn't right; breathe too much of it and you'll easily see your great-grandmother."

Just then, a tooth-aching sound of metal grinding suddenly came from beneath the chassis, followed by a violent shudder.

"Brother Chen! The exhaust pipe seems to have caught on something!" Zhao Zihao's panicked voice came through the walkie-talkie, deliberately lowered. "The buckle might have been damaged when we crashed through the roadblocks just now. If it's not fixed, this car won't be able to run at all. If the carbon buildup flows back, we'll all suffocate inside!"

Su Chen glanced at the tachometer on the dashboard, which was indeed somewhat unstable. This excuse was found quite professionally; it seemed this guy had done his fair share of car repairs before.

"Go fix it," Su Chen spat out two words coldly. "I'll give you one minute. If you can't fix it, I'll stuff you into the exhaust pipe as a filter element."

The door's air valve had just let out a soft hiss when Zhao Zihao slipped under the car like a loach.

In less than ten seconds, there was no sound of hitting the exhaust pipe; instead, a crisp cracking sound came from the middle of the vehicle body, followed by the "hissing" sound of high-pressure liquid gushing out frantically.

The water level alarm inside the cockpit suddenly lit up red: [Freshwater storage tank pressure imbalance, inventory rapidly dropping... 10%... 5%...]

"Damn it!"

A scream came from the rear compartment.

Before Su Chen could unbuckle his seatbelt, he felt his heart contract sharply through that invisible "Holy Sun Bond"—it was panic from Lin Mengyao, and a kind of madness after being pushed to the limit by thirst.

Through the rearview mirror, Su Chen saw the usually unattainable campus belle staring blankly at the half-open car door.

In that thick pink fog, in a depression less than ten meters from the vehicle, there was actually an alluring cyan-blue fluorescence.

That light was so pure it didn't contain a single impurity; in a water-scarce post-apocalyptic world, this was no different from a desert traveler seeing an oasis.

"That's water... that's clean water!" Lin Mengyao seemed possessed; the originally most rational conglomerate heiress now shoved aside Shen Qingqiu, who was trying to hold her back.

"Meng Yao! Don't go! It's a hallucination!" A button on Shen Qingqiu's intellectual-looking blouse had been torn off, yet she couldn't stop the girl, who was on the verge of dehydration and influenced by the hallucinogenic gas.

Lin Mengyao stumbled out of the carriage, her fair calves disappearing into the thick pink mist.

She lunged toward that glow, her face bearing a near-pilgrimage-like obsession.

However, the moment her fingertips touched that "water source," the cyan-blue halo suddenly split open.

That was no clear spring; it was clearly the fanged mouth of a Nightmare Demon Flower over two people tall!

Several thick, python-like purplish-black vines instantly burst from the ground, covered in sticky barbs, tightly entangling Lin Mengyao's slender waist and ankles.

"Ah—!!"

The shrill scream was cut off by the vines as soon as it left her mouth; Lin Mengyao was like a ragdoll being dragged into an abyss, instantly pulled into the depths of the thick mist.

Su Chen felt a sharp pain in his chest; it was the backlash when a contractor faced a fatal threat.

"Causing trouble for me at a time like this, I'll have to beat your butt swollen later," Su Chen cursed, grabbed the serrated machete from the passenger seat, kicked open the door, and jumped down.

The moment his feet hit the ground, Zhao Zihao, who had been lurking in the shadows of the heavy truck's chassis, suddenly moved.

This guy wasn't repairing the exhaust pipe at all.

His face was covered in oil, his eyes as venomous as a malevolent ghost's, and he was clutching an industrial-grade U-lock he had dismantled from somewhere.

Taking advantage of Su Chen rushing toward Lin Mengyao's back, Zhao Zihao roared and charged toward the car door's sliding rail with all his strength.

*Clack!*

That heavy U-lock precisely jammed the door's closing track, and at the same time, the specially made lock bolt directly knocked the induction probe out of alignment.

This not only completely locked the car door but also turned this sole sanctuary into an iron coffin that allowed exit but no entry.

"Su Chen! Since you're a hero, then go die outside!" Zhao Zihao laughed wildly as he retreated back under the car, his voice filled with the pleasure of revenge. "This car, and the women on it, I'll be taking over for you!"

Su Chen didn't even turn his head.

He didn't even bother wasting a single second to despise the scheming behind him.

In this world where strength reigned supreme, this kind of ant who only knew how to play petty tricks didn't understand at all whose disaster it was to lock a wild beast outside a cage.

He took a deep breath, the Holy Sun Inner Qi circulating frantically through his meridians, forcibly suppressing the dizziness from inhaling the toxic gas, and charged into the churning pink mist with his blade.

As he took the final step, the nauseating sweet and bloody smell suddenly vanished.

Along with the monster's roars, Zhao Zihao's wild laughter, and the sound of vines dragging bodies, everything came to an abrupt halt at this moment.

Beneath Su Chen's feet were no longer wasteland and gravel, but a soft, warm wool carpet.

The thick pink mist in his vision receded like a tide, replaced by a warm yellow living room filled with the atmosphere of daily life.

The clock on the wall ticked, the aroma of braised ribs wafted from the kitchen, and on that fabric sofa that should have belonged to the pre-apocalyptic world, there actually sat a figure that made his pupils dilate in shock.