97: The final cleanup in the ruins

Shifted into reverse, the gears engaged with a satisfyingly crisp click.

Su Chen did not hesitate for a second, flooring the accelerator.

The bus known as the "Doomsday Fortress" let out a low growl like a predator after a kill, its dark red wheels, caked in biological chitin, ruthlessly grinding backward.

"Crack—Squelch."

A dull bursting sound came from beneath the chassis, like a heavy hammer smashing a watermelon, or a hydraulic press flattening a hard walnut.

Accompanied by this sound, the ground vibrated slightly, and a scent mixed with dust and a metallic sweetness drifted into the driver's cabin through the shattered window.

Su Chen glanced in the rearview mirror; that pile of what could barely be identified as human-shaped "iron pancakes" had completely turned into a mess of pixels on the asphalt road.

"Villains die from talking too much, and protagonists die from not finishing the job."

Su Chen muttered a low complaint before killing the engine and pulling out the brass car key, which had been rubbed smooth into a patina.

He pushed the door open and stepped out, his combat boots making a sticky sound as they stepped onto the ground covered in engine oil and blood.

Not far away, in the gap of a heavy truck's chassis, Zhao Zihao was curled into a ball.

This guy's life was truly resilient; despite being thrown by the shockwave of the impact earlier, he hadn't suffered any fatal injuries other than his ruined right hand.

However, at this moment, his courage had long since been shattered. Listening to that hair-raising sound of grinding just now, he didn't even have the strength left to run.

Su Chen walked to the gap and, like picking up a dead chicken, gripped Zhao Zihao's intact left scapula with one hand and yanked him out violently.

"Ah—!"

The scream had just begun when he was casually tossed onto the concrete floor by Su Chen.

The fall was extremely heavy. Zhao Zihao rolled twice, stopping exactly at the feet of Lin Mengyao, who had just leaped down from the roof of the bus.

At this time, Lin Mengyao's originally pale cheeks were flushed with an unusual redness from the battle—proof that the "Extreme Yang True Water" in her body was still surging.

She had not yet put away the bone crossbow in her hand, her gaze complex as she looked at this former classmate on the ground.

Su Chen leaned down and pulled an envelope out of Zhao Zihao's blood-stained bosom.

It was the invitation to the "Ghost."

Because it had been kept close to his body, the envelope was soaked through with a warm liquid, turning dark red and feeling wet and slimy, which was somewhat disgusting.

"For this piece of paper, you treated the whole class as a sacrificial offering?" Su Chen flicked the envelope between two fingers, waving it in front of Zhao Zihao's eyes. "Is this the 'future' you were talking about?"

Looking at the piercingly red envelope, Zhao Zihao's survival instinct forced him to suppress the intense pain.

Ignoring the bloody froth in his mouth, he tried desperately to crawl up and kneel, only to be stepped back onto the ground by Su Chen.

"Don't... don't kill me! Su Chen, we're classmates... I'm useful! Really!"

Zhao Zihao spoke at a rapid-fire pace, fearing that his head would be separated from his body if he was a second too slow. "I know the Ghost's defense blind spots! That He Qi told me their ship's hull has a leak... Don't kill me, I can help you sneak in..."

"A leak?" A mocking arc curled at the corner of Su Chen's mouth, his eyes looking at him as if he were a child who hadn't been weaned. "A discarded pawn like you, treated as a disposable consumable, could know core secrets? You overestimate yourself and underestimate those outlaws on the Ghost."

"Mmph! Mmph-mmph—!"

Zhao Zihao wanted to argue further, but Su Chen didn't bother to listen anymore.

With a flick of his wrist, he crumpled the soaked invitation into a ball and crudely shoved it into Zhao Zihao's mouth, pushing it all the way to the back of his throat, completely blocking those worthless words.

"Meng Yao."

Su Chen stood up straight without looking back, merely calling her name calmly.

Lin Mengyao trembled; she knew the meaning behind being called upon.

In this dog-eat-dog world, if your hands aren't stained with blood, you can only ever be a decorative vase.

And on Su Chen's bus, there was no need for decorative vases.

"Kill him," Su Chen's voice was calm, without a ripple of emotion. "Use your newly awakened power."

Zhao Zihao's eyes widened in terror, letting out muffled "woo-woo" whimpers through the envelope in his mouth, his body twisting frantically on the ground like a maggot, trying to show a final plea for mercy to Lin Mengyao.

Lin Mengyao took a deep breath.

If it were her from half an hour ago, she might have hesitated, recalling the scenes of everyone doing morning exercises together on campus.

But now, feeling the warm power within her that was closely linked to Su Chen, and looking at Su Chen's broad yet cold back, the last trace of weakness in her eyes dissolved like snow.

In this apocalypse, kindness is the greatest sin.

She slowly raised her right hand, palm open.

The temperature in the air plummeted, and wisps of white frost gathered in her palm. Immediately after, the Extreme Yang Power from Su Chen surged through her meridians, violently colliding and merging with the frost.

"Crack, crack..."

A crystal-clear ice spike quickly condensed in her palm.

Unlike ordinary ice spikes, the interior of this one actually had vivid pink veins flowing like blood vessels. This was the phenomenon of the fusion of Extreme Yang and Extreme Yin—the Dream Illusion Ice Spike.

"Goodbye, Classmate Zhao."

Lin Mengyao's voice was as cold as a blade.

She flipped her wrist, palm facing down.

"Puchi!"

Without any resistance, the ice spike with its pink glow instantly pierced through Zhao Zihao's throat, precisely avoiding the mouth blocked by the envelope, directly severing the carotid artery and trachea before embedding itself deep into the asphalt road.

Zhao Zihao's body twitched violently, his eyes wide open, his pupils rapidly dilating.

Not a single sound could come from his mouth blocked by the envelope; only bloody froth overflowed from the corners of his mouth, staining that so-called "invitation."

[Ding! Detected that the dependent 'Lin Mengyao' has achieved a mental breakthrough, severing the shackles of the past.]

[Loyalty increased to 100% (Absolute Loyalty), energy transmission efficiency between both parties increased by 30%.]

A line of pale gold prompts flashed across Su Chen's retina.

He nodded with satisfaction. This sense of harmony coming from the depths of his soul made the restless Saint Yang aura within his body settle down a bit.

But this was not the end.

While Zhao Zihao's brain cells hadn't completely died yet, Su Chen stepped forward and pressed his hand onto the still-warm skull.

"Let me see just how much trash is inside your head."

Talent activated—Yang God Inner Reflection.

Su Chen's pupils instantly turned into pure gold vertical slits.

An overbearing spiritual force, like a red-hot branding iron, forcibly pierced into Zhao Zihao's collapsing mental world.

Countless fragmented images flashed through Su Chen's mind like a slideshow: the campus full of zombies, Zhao Zihao's fear while hiding in the toilet, the ecstasy when he got the communicator, and... the image froze on a blurry electronic map.

It was the Ghost's navigation terminal that Zhao Zihao had caught a glimpse of when he met with He Qi.

"32 degrees North Latitude, abandoned strategic fuel depot..."

Su Chen withdrew his hand, the golden light in his eyes slowly fading.

Because his consciousness had been forcibly scoured, Zhao Zihao's corpse completely lost its last bit of vitality, slumping to the ground like a pile of mud.

"As expected, the so-called leak was all nonsense; the real nest is hidden underground." Su Chen brushed off non-existent dust from his hands, pulled a slightly flattened cigarette from his pocket, and put it in his mouth, though he was in no hurry to light it.

Just then.

Zzzzt—

A sharp screech of microphone static suddenly exploded across the empty square, causing Lin Mengyao to jerk her bone crossbow up.

Su Chen frowned slightly and turned to look at the center of the square.

Standing there was a giant LED screen originally used for public service advertisements, which had been pitch black since the first day of the apocalypse.

But at this moment, the screen, covered in dust and cracks, actually flickered without warning, followed by a frantic shaking of pale white static.