31: Chapter 31: A relentless, crushing victory.

The next morning, when Lin Yan woke up beside the prefab house at the edge of the rooftop, the silhouette of the ruins in the distance was still covered in a layer of dark blue mist. A few nocturnal mutants had already retreated to their nests, and the street was as quiet as a true dead city.

Uncle Zhou walked over carrying a pot of cooked food. It was impossible to tell exactly what was in the pot—chunks of potato, dehydrated vegetables, and bits of some unknown meat, all boiled together into a thick, mushy porridge. Using his only remaining hand, he placed the pot on the stove, scooped out a full bowl, and handed it to Lin Yan.

"Eat until you're full before you go." The old man's voice was hoarse but firm, leaving no room for negotiation.

Lin Yan took it and leaned against the railing at the edge of the rooftop to eat. The porridge didn't taste great; there was little salt, and the bits of meat were rather tough. However, as the piping hot liquid slid from his throat into his stomach, a genuine warmth spread from his stomach throughout his entire body.

Zhao Ming leaned over, crouching beside him with his bowl, and said with a mouthful of porridge, "Uncle Zhou doesn't usually give us this much meat. He's only splurging because he sees that you're going to save people."

Uncle Zhou threw a rag from the side of the stove, which accurately slapped onto Zhao Ming's face. "Eating still can't shut your mouth."

Zhao Ming chuckled, pulled the rag off, finished his porridge in a few gulps, stood up, clamped his shield onto his arm, and patted the plating. "I'm full, let's go."

Sister Chen hung her filled water bottle on her belt, checked the blade of her fire axe one last time, and nodded at Lin Yan.

"Let's move out."

The industrial district was to the southeast of the safe house, about a forty-minute walk away. The route passed through two main roads and a stretch of ruined residential area.

Suddenly, Sister Chen raised her hand in front.

They had arrived at the old commercial street.

The sign of the former commercial street still hung on the exterior wall of a half-collapsed building, its lettering long since faded. The doors of the shops on both sides of the street hung askew, the display window glass was shattered all over the ground, and the remains of rusted shelves and rotting fabric were scattered about. The stench of rot in the air was several times stronger than around the safe house.

And at the end of the street, grey-white figures were moving slowly.

Zombies.

Seventy or eighty of them—not too many, but crowded into this narrow street, their grey-white skin exuding a greenish-grey aura of death in the dark blue morning light. They were hunched over, their gait stiff, heads hanging low. The moment they heard the noise, dozens of heads lifted simultaneously, and their grey-white eyeballs turned in unison toward Lin Yan and his group.

Hoarse roars squeezed out from their rotting throats, merging into a low, buzzing sound.

Lin Yan walked out from the middle of the group.

"Seal the road with an ice surface, just let a few through at a time." His tone was as calm as if he were stating the weather. "Leave the flanks to you; I'll handle the front entirely."

The first wave of zombies had already charged within twenty meters, their gait no longer a slow shuffle, but a frantic sprint. Shen Bing pushed her hands forward, and a frost spread from her feet, forming a thin sheet of ice in the middle of the street.

The ice surface covered about ten meters of the road, its surface as smooth as a lens. The few zombies charging in front stepped onto the ice, their feet slipping instantly, their bodies stumbling forward, their speed dropping sharply.

Lin Yan stood at the end of the ice surface.

The first zombie lunged at him, its rotting hands clawing toward his chest. Lin Yan didn't even step back; his right fist shot out from his waist, smashing into the zombie's face.

The zombie's head exploded like a watermelon hit by a sledgehammer, with filthy blood and shattered bone splattering in all directions.

Lin Yan's movements were as crisp as a repetitive operation on an assembly line: raise hand, throw punch, retract. The rhythm was as steady as a metronome, each punch precisely smashing a zombie's skull, with no superfluous movements and no flashy waste of energy.

Shen Bing controlled the release rhythm of the ice surface, letting only a few zombies through at a time, no more, no less. Occasionally, zombies from the flanks would bypass the edge of the ice surface and try to pounce on her, only to be rammed back by Zhao Ming's shield. Sister Chen's fire axe would follow immediately, hacking the zombies to the ground, while Su Hao also used his machete, coordinating to decapitate these zombies.

Seventy or eighty zombies were cleared in less than fifteen minutes.

When the last zombie fell, the ground of the old commercial street was covered in grey-white corpses. Lin Yan stood in the center of the pile, his bone tumor breastplate splattered with filth and blood, yet there wasn't even a single new bite mark on him; the zombies never had a chance to get close. His fists were faster than their teeth; every punch turned them into a puddle of rotten flesh before they could bite him.

Shen Bing watched his back, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly. Yesterday, she was still worried about whether this person could withstand the zombie virus, but today, she no longer thought about that question because the zombies simply couldn't bite him.

"Continue." Lin Yan shook the filthy blood off his gloves and walked forward without looking back.

The second stop was the residential area.

The density of zombies in the residential area was significantly higher than in the commercial street. The entrances to several apartment units stood open like dark holes, and the hoarse low roars of zombies came from the stairwells. The grey-white figures pouring out from windows, balconies, and stairwell entrances were dense, with the number estimated to be over a hundred.

Their movement patterns were also more chaotic; some jumped directly from upstairs, breaking their legs but still able to crawl on the ground; some leaped over the green belt fences to flank them; and there were a few whose bodies were a size bulkier than ordinary zombies, their abdomens swollen as if stuffed with a balloon, causing the ground to vibrate slightly with every step they took.

[Monster: Swollen Zombie] [Level: 7] [HP: 1000] [Physical Attack: 50] [Magic Attack: 150] [Physical Defense: 80] [Magic Defense: 80] [Type: Common mob, explodes upon death, dealing 300 points of AOE magic damage to targets within 3 meters.]

"Those fat ones will explode when they die." Sister Chen shouted from behind, her voice carrying obvious tension. "Don't let them get close."

Shen Bing did not hold back this time, pushing both hands out simultaneously. Two streams of frost crossed at the entrance of the residential area, forming an ice wall, leaving only a three-meter-wide passage in the middle.

Her fingers trembled slightly the moment the frost was released; her ability consumption was faster than expected. But it was enough; she only needed to hold on until this person finished clearing them.

The zombie horde surged up.

A Swollen Zombie lunged from the side. Lin Yan sidestepped the Swollen Zombie's pounce, shifted his right fist, and smashed several punches into its bloated abdomen. Then, he lifted it up and threw it into the zombie horde. The strength augmented by Titan Strength was enough for him to throw this 200-plus kilogram zombie flying.

"Bang!" A violent explosion erupted within the zombie horde, knocking over all the nearby zombies.

Sister Chen's eyelids twitched as she watched from behind; she knew how disgusting the explosions of those Swollen Zombies were. Even the strongest defensive ability user in Winter City would lose a layer of skin if they were blown up at point-blank range. But this person played with Swollen Zombies like a child, simply throwing them away—just how strong was this power?

The remaining zombies were cleared by Lin Yan in less than ten minutes—on a high building in the distance, a man watched this scene silently.

Lin Yan stood at the entrance of the residential area, his bone tumor breastplate splattered with filthy blood, grey-white dust and dark red flesh pasted together; the whole person looked as if he had walked out of a slaughterhouse.

But his breathing was steady, and there were still no wounds worth mentioning on his body.

Shen Bing leaned against the wall, panting, her fingers still trembling slightly from excessive ability consumption, but the way she looked at Lin Yan was filled with an indescribable... sense of relief.

This person said, "I'll handle the front entirely," which gave people such a sense of security. Security! In this apocalypse, how long had it been since she felt that?

After resting for half an hour, Shen Bing's ability had mostly recovered. Zhao Ming dug out a few bottles of mineral water and shared a few sips with everyone.

"How much further is the Sewage Treatment Plant?" Lin Yan asked.

Sister Chen stood up and pointed to the dark, imposing silhouette of buildings to the southeast. "Twenty minutes. The last message from the missing team was transmitted from there. However—"

She paused.

"We encountered a Licker before, and it came from that direction. Near the Sewage Treatment Plant, there might be more than one."

Lin Yan nodded.

"Don't worry, I can handle it."

Twenty minutes later, the rusted gate of the Sewage Treatment Plant appeared in their field of vision.

The factory perimeter wall had mostly collapsed, revealing several huge circular sedimentation tanks inside. The air was filled with a pungent stench of rot, even stronger than the old commercial street and residential area combined. The bloodstains on the ground were fresh, and drag marks extended from the main gate deep into the factory area.

Lin Yan walked in the lead, stepped over the half-collapsed iron gate, and entered the Sewage Treatment Plant.

The five of them stopped at the edge of the sedimentation tank.

A faint rustling sound came from deep within the factory area, as if something was crawling rapidly on the metal surface of the pipes. The sound wasn't from just one; it was coming from multiple directions simultaneously—from the roof opposite the sedimentation tank, from the elevated pipe supports, and from the roof of the abandoned equipment room.

Three pairs of vertical pupils lit up simultaneously in the darkness.