94: The last drop of value of a traitor

*Crack.*

The sound wasn't crisp; instead, it was muffled, like a foot crushing a pack of damp, expired crispy noodles.

Su Chen applied a slight grinding force with the sole of his foot, and Zhao Zihao's right wrist bone—which had been charred to a cinder by 'Yang Energy Soul-Locking from Afar'—instantly turned into a pile of black powder. As the wind blew, it scattered across the ground.

"Ah—!!"

Zhao Zihao, who had already been beaten into a daze, was forcibly awakened by this heart-piercing pain.

Like a wild dog with a broken spine, he curled up like a shrimp. A raspy, gasping sound came from his throat; he was in such extreme pain that even his screams had lost their tone.

"Don't play dead. I know your pain receptors haven't all been burned off yet."

Su Chen looked down at his former classmate with an expressionless face, his tone as calm as if he were asking about the price of vegetables. "What benefits did those people from the Ghost give you? Where is the communicator? What other means of contact do you have?"

He was in no hurry to deal the killing blow.

In this damn apocalypse, a living tongue was worth much more than a corpse, even if that tongue belonged to a piece of trash who only knew how to stab people in the back.

"Su... Su Chen..."

Zhao Zihao's face was covered in blood. His bloodshot eyes stared fixedly at Su Chen, yet there was no remorse in his gaze—only a madness bordering on collapse. "You think you've won? You have no idea where they are... You have no idea what's in this mist!"

"I don't need to know, because they'll be joining you soon." Su Chen frowned slightly and lifted his foot again, preparing to stomp on the man's intact left hand.

At that moment, Zhao Zihao suddenly erupted with a final burst of strength.

His intact left hand suddenly lunged into his jacket and pulled out a cylindrical device shaped like a fountain pen. Without giving Su Chen a chance to stop him, he slammed his thumb down on the trigger at the top.

"One signal arrow to bring thousands of troops to meet, is that it?"

Su Chen sneered. He didn't even bother to snatch the already-activated device, merely shifting his body back half a step.

*Swoosh—!*

A piercing whistle instantly tore through the heavy air.

A beam of blinding red light shot up from Zhao Zihao's hand. Although it couldn't penetrate the thick layers of mist, the high-frequency flashing red light in the dim environment was practically a beacon.

"Hahaha! Do you see that! The location is locked!"

Zhao Zihao laughed wildly while spitting out blood foam, his expression as hideous as a malevolent ghost. "The Ghost's Cleaners are nearby! The snipers have already set up! Su Chen, no matter how strong you are, you can't outrun a bullet—"

A dull explosion interrupted his barking.

It wasn't the sound of a gun triggered by gunpowder, but a more primitive, more violent mechanical ejection sound.

Immediately after, the front windshield of the bus parked behind Su Chen shattered instantly, and countless shards of tempered glass sprayed out like a rainstorm.

A bone nail, about half a meter long, deathly white, and covered in spiral grooves, carried terrifying kinetic energy as it pierced through the back of the driver's seat. Its momentum undiminished, it whistled out and plunged with pinpoint accuracy into Zhao Zihao's chest.

*Puchi.*

The massive inertia carried Zhao Zihao's body sliding half a meter across the ground, pinning him firmly to the asphalt road.

The bone nail had clearly been specially polished; it was covered in barbs that shattered upon entering the flesh, instantly mangling his internal organs.

Zhao Zihao's laughter stopped abruptly. His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as he looked down in disbelief at the bone nail still vibrating slightly in his chest. His lips moved twice, but in the end, only large gulps of black blood mixed with organ fragments poured out.

He had been silenced.

"Armor-piercing rounds made from a spine? Interesting."

Su Chen didn't panic because of the sudden attack; he didn't even blink.

The moment the bone nail was fired, the 'Yang Spirit' perception he had just awakened had already automatically spread out.

In his mind's eye, a clear, pale red ballistic trajectory appeared within the originally chaotic world of mist.

Tracing this trajectory back about three hundred meters to the edge of the mist, a translucent humanoid silhouette was crouched on a dead roadside tree.

That silhouette was propping up an exaggeratedly styled bone sniper rifle, its barrel still emitting a faint trail of white smoke.

Although the opponent was using some kind of optical camouflage talent similar to a chameleon, under Su Chen's 'Holy Yang Golden Pupils'—which could see through all illusions—this disguise was like a clown wearing the Emperor's new clothes.

"He Qi."

Su Chen spoke the name, his lips curling into a cold arc.

It was that wretched man who had abandoned his teammates to save his own life at the mall, eventually using his invisibility talent to escape.

He hadn't expected that after just a few days, the man would have found a new master and even become a sniper for the Ghost.

"Since you're here, don't be in a hurry to leave."

Seeing the translucent silhouette in the distance beginning to pack up the rifle to relocate, Su Chen moved.

But he didn't charge directly.

He bent down and grabbed the ankle of Zhao Zihao's corpse.

The corpse of an adult male weighing about a hundred and fifty pounds felt as light as a ragdoll stuffed with cotton in his hand.

"I'll borrow your worthless flesh to serve one last purpose."

Su Chen anchored his stance, his arm muscles bulging as the terrifying monstrous strength reinforced by the Holy Yang Body instantly erupted.

*Whoosh—!*

Zhao Zihao's corpse, along with that bone nail, was hurled by Su Chen like a javelin toward the direction the shot had come from.

The corpse traced a sharp arc through the air, smashing through the mist and heading straight for that dead tree.

At the same time, Su Chen's combat boots slammed into the ground, cracking it.

The moment the corpse flew out, he himself had already become like a hunting black panther, hugging the ground and charging into the churning thick fog as a blur under the cover of the body.