29: Chapter 29 Transactions

Shen Bing furrowed her brows as she looked at him: "You mean you're going to hold the front line?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any idea what happens if you get bitten by a zombie?" Shen Bing's voice lowered, every word heavy with obvious tension. "It's not as simple as losing a chunk of flesh. Even with just a small wound, once the corpse poison enters your body, you'll start running a fever and suffering organ failure within days, eventually turning into one of them. If you hold the front line alone, do you know how many bites you're going to take?"

"I know," Lin Yan said. "My constitution has a resistance to corpse poison. As long as I'm not flooded with too much toxin at once, my body can metabolize it on its own. That's why I need you to help me control the pace; don't let too many come through at once."

The three of them fell silent for a second. Zhao Ming and Shen Bing instinctively looked at Sister Chen; in this squad, she was the one who made the final decisions.

Sister Chen stared at Lin Yan for two seconds, then nodded.

"Do as he says."

Zhao Ming slammed his riot shield onto the ground and turned sideways to wedge himself into the gap on the left side of the alley entrance. Shen Bing pushed her hands forward, and a frost spread from her feet, forming a thin layer of ice directly in front of the alley entrance. The three or four zombies rushing in the front stepped onto the ice, their pace instantly faltering; two of them were frozen solid from the knees down.

Lin Yan stepped out of the alley and stood at the edge of the ice.

The first zombie crossed the ice and lunged, its teeth clashing against the shoulder of the bone tumor breastplate with a harsh, grating sound. Lin Yan ignored it; he clenched his right fist, sank his hips, and punched into its chest cavity.

The second one bit his left arm guard from the side, but the bone-white plates on the surface of the guard didn't budge. The third one slammed into his back, its claws frantically scratching at the plates over his spine. The corpse poison count began to climb: 3 layers, 4 layers, 5 layers.

Shen Bing's frost ability precisely controlled the tempo; she didn't freeze all the zombies at once, but instead created a continuous slowdown zone where the horde was densest.

Once the zombies stepped onto the ice, their movement speed plummeted to one-third of their original speed. The following zombies were blocked by those frozen in front and could only struggle to move forward across the ice.

Each time, only the three or four that broke free first could lunge at Lin Yan, while the rest were blocked behind the ice, crowded together but unable to break through.

Lin Yan's pressure eased significantly—four punches for one, four punches for another. Just as he finished off the ones in front, Shen Bing released a few more—not too many, not too few. The corpse poison count fluctuated between 5 and 6 layers, occasionally jumping to 7, but it was quickly suppressed by his constitution's resistance. He no longer needed to worry about the corpse poison exceeding the threshold.

On the flank, a stray zombie squeezed through a gap in Zhao Ming's shield, only to be cleaved down by Sister Chen's axe. Another one circled around the edge of the ice, attempting to lunge at Shen Bing, but Zhao Ming's riot shield slammed into it directly. The iron spikes on the shield's surface pierced the zombie's chest, knocking it back two steps, and Sister Chen's axe blade followed immediately.

Zhao Ming knocked away another zombie and, gasping for air, glanced at Lin Yan's back in front of him. That man was still standing at the edge of the ice, still being bitten by three or four zombies hanging off him, and still, not even his skin was broken.

He had been a tank for two years; he knew best what this meant. It wasn't about good equipment or strong abilities; it was pure physical hardness. But such hardness was something no one in Winter City had ever achieved.

"Captain, this guy isn't right." He lowered his voice so only Sister Chen beside him could hear. "The equipment on him isn't from our city; I've never seen the material of that breastplate and arm guard. And he's not afraid of the zombie virus—it doesn't feel like he's just 'not afraid,' it feels like the virus is useless against him."

"I noticed that a long time ago." Sister Chen cleaved through a zombie's neck, foul blood splashing onto the old scar on her face.

Shen Bing did not join their whispered conversation. Her ability energy was more than half depleted, and sweat beads were streaming down her cheeks, but she did not loosen her control over the ice surface.

Her gaze remained fixed on Lin Yan, watching the places on his body that had been repeatedly bitten by the zombies. There was a faint white mark on the back of his neck that was fading at a rate visible to the naked eye.

Every person she had ever seen bitten by a zombie would have blackened skin around the wound, bulging veins, and then the infection would begin to spread, but there were no signs of infection spreading on this man.

Those bite marks were just bite marks—clean, ordinary, as if he had been bitten by a dog rather than by a zombie soaked in corpse poison.

Even the strongest defensive Awakened in Winter City would be just an ordinary person once their ability was exhausted, but from the start of the fight until now, this man hadn't shown any glow of abilities, hadn't transformed, and hadn't activated any shields.

He might not be an Awakened at all. Not an Awakened, yet able to do things that even the Awakened couldn't.

When the last zombie crashed to the ground, the area inside and outside the alley was piled with corpses—about a hundred or so in total. The progress for the mission of five hundred was already forty percent complete.

[Level Up: Level 10 → Level 11!] [Current EXP: 3000 / 10000]

Lin Yan looked down at his left forearm. The spot that had been repeatedly bitten finally had a rice-grain-sized tear, but the toxin count was already receding: 6 layers, 5 layers, 4 layers, 3 layers. His constitution's resistance was methodically clearing out the remaining corpse poison; the skin around the wound was slightly flushed, and that was it.

He turned and walked toward the three survivors.

Shen Bing leaned against the alley wall, hands on her knees, gasping for breath; the continuous release of frost had depleted most of her ability energy. Zhao Ming set his riot shield beside his feet and plopped onto the ground, his chest soaked through with sweat. He kept turning his head to look at Lin Yan, his gaze filled with obvious scrutiny.

Sister Chen stood at the alley entrance, bracing herself with her fire axe. Her jacket sleeve had been torn by a zombie, but she wasn't injured underneath. She looked at the wound on Lin Yan's left arm, then at his calm expression, and suddenly spoke.

"You are not from Winter City, and you aren't even a survivor like us." Her tone wasn't interrogative, but every word was spoken with certainty. "Your equipment, your constitution, your reaction to the corpse poison—it's completely different from us."

Lin Yan did not deny it.

"I won't ask where you came from." Sister Chen hung the fire axe on her back. "You help us, and we'll help you. The safe house has a map of the entire city, with two years of zombie distribution and the activity ranges of mutants marked on it. Where the zombies are clustered, which roads are passable, and which areas are absolutely forbidden to enter—this map will definitely be useful for someone 'out of town' like you."

"And the conditions?"

"Help us find the supply-scavenging squad that went missing two days ago." Sister Chen looked into his eyes. "You alone can fight an amount that our entire squad couldn't handle; for you, rescuing people—something we can't do—would just be on the way."

Lin Yan extended his hand.

"Deal."

Sister Chen grasped his hand. It was as rough as sandpaper, covered in calluses and old scars, but the grip was solid—no testing, no hesitation.

She released his hand and turned to walk deeper into the alley. Zhao Ming followed with his shield, but after two steps, he turned back to look at Lin Yan. He muttered something unintelligible, scratched the back of his head, and quickened his pace to catch up with Sister Chen.

Lin Yan followed at the very back. As he walked, he finished making his judgment in his mind: Natives, not Awakened. They have their own combat system, fear of the zombie virus, and a sense of responsibility for their companions; they can be cooperated with.