107: Chapter 107 Street Battle Begins

"Bang!"

A muffled sound.

It wasn't a normal gunshot, but a dull sound, like one coming from a silencer.

The bullet, wrapped in a layer of black light, flew straight toward Wang Laowu's heart from behind.

Almost simultaneously, the second man rushed out from the other side, his machete hacking toward Wang Zhiming.

The third, fourth, and fifth men lunged at Zhang Lijuan and the ordinary survivors, respectively.

The smile on Zhuang Zeqiang's face hadn't fully spread yet.

Then, he saw the light.

The bullet struck Wang Laowu's back but didn't pierce through.

A pale golden light pattern lit up on Wang Laowu's back; the pattern exploded, and the bullet was deflected.

Wang Laowu lunged forward and fell face-first onto the ground.

With a muffled grunt, a hole appeared in the back of his clothes, revealing a charred talisman inside.

The runes on the talisman had completely burned away, turning into ash that drifted out from the hole in his clothes.

But he wasn't dead.

The smile on Zhuang Zeqiang's face froze.

"They have defensive items!" Zhuang Zeqiang cursed and raised his gun again.

But Wang Laowu had already climbed to his feet.

He spat out the mud in his mouth, touched his back, and grimaced in pain.

But his bones weren't broken, and his internal organs were fine.

It was just flesh wounds.

"Fuck you!"

Wang Laowu shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice so loud that the whole back street shook, "Ambushing me!"

The second man's machete strike also landed on Wang Zhiming.

The same thing happened; just before the blade landed on Wang Zhiming's shoulder, a pale golden light pattern lit up on him, and the blade was deflected.

The talisman on Wang Zhiming's body also turned to ash.

Zhang Lijuan traded a punch with the third man, and a talisman also blocked the hit for her.

The result of the ambush by Zhuang Zeqiang and his four men was merely consuming three of Wang Laowu and his group's Shield talismans.

And leaving a bruise on Wang Laowu's back.

That was all.

"Fuck! They all have defensive items!" the third man shrieked.

Zhuang Zeqiang's expression darkened.

He had seen the talisman; it looked like the other side had a Rune Sequence.

There weren't many Transcendents who could draw talismans, and a single Shield talisman could be traded for ten jin of food in the apocalypse.

These three people actually had one each? What kind of background did this group have?

But the arrow had already left the bow; there was no time to worry about that now.

Since the ambush didn't work, they would fight head-on.

Five against three, the advantage is with me!

"Don't just stand there! All together now!" Zhuang Zeqiang roared, tossed aside his pistol, and drew two short blades from his waist.

The short blades were wrapped in black light, emitting an eerie aura. He launched himself at Wang Laowu like a cheetah.

The remaining four men also attacked simultaneously, engaging Zhang Lijuan and Wang Zhiming.

A series of clashing sounds erupted in the back street.

Wang Laowu and Zhuang Zeqiang were the first to clash.

Zhuang Zeqiang was extremely fast; his two short blades stabbed toward Wang Laowu's throat and chest from left and right.

The attack was fierce, aiming for a kill.

Wang Laowu swung his machete to parry one and dodged the other by turning sideways.

The blade and the short spike collided, sparking a shower of sparks.

Zhuang Zeqiang flipped his wrist, and the short spike slid down the back of the machete, slicing toward Wang Laowu's fingers.

This move was fast and tricky; Wang Laowu couldn't dodge it.

He took half the hit, and a gash was cut in the web of his hand, blood seeping out; he sucked in a cold breath from the pain.

But he didn't retreat.

He knew he couldn't beat this scar-faced man.

But this guy was much smarter than the strange creatures; he wasn't just strong, he was cunning, specifically aiming for vital spots.

"Wang, you can't beat him, step back and cover!" Zhang Lijuan shouted from the side.

"Use a talisman to blast him!" She had just used a talisman to force back the fourth man and saw that Wang Laowu was struggling.

"What cover! If I can't beat him, I'll stall him!" Wang Laowu roared back and slashed again, only to be easily parried by Zhuang Zeqiang.

It wasn't easy for Wang Zhiming either.

He was entangled with the second man; he had no weapons and relied entirely on the Illusionist Sequence's mental suppression.

Every time the second man got close, Wang Zhiming would condense a mental shock to strike him.

The second man's movements would pause for a moment.

But the fifth man quickly came from the side to pinch him, and Wang Zhiming could only retreat while fighting and using talismans.

Zhang Lijuan was facing the third and fourth men alone, throwing talismans as if they were free.

Fortunately, she was a Sequence 2 talisman master with plenty of stock, so she didn't fall behind for the moment.

But anyone could see that this stalemate wouldn't last long.

Zhuang Zeqiang's side had more people, and Zhuang Zeqiang himself was a Sequence 3, one level higher than everyone present.

The blood from the web of Wang Laowu's hand flowed more and more.

Wang Zhiming's mental shocks were beginning to falter, and Zhang Lijuan's talismans would eventually run out.

Zhuang Zeqiang was suppressing Wang Laowu, and a short spike knocked Wang Laowu's machete away.

The other one stabbed straight at Wang Laowu's shoulder.

Wang Laowu dodged sideways, and the short spike grazed his shoulder.

It pierced his clothes and cut a gash in his flesh, though not deep.

"You fatso can dodge quite well," Zhuang Zeqiang sneered.

"You're the fucking fatso! I'm what you call sturdy!" Wang Laowu dodged while cursing, refusing to let his mouth suffer a loss.

He stopped attacking and focused entirely on defense.

He wasn't a fool; he knew he couldn't win. He was a Beastman Sequence, his health bar was thick, and he could always stall.

"Boss, these three are hard to gnaw on." The third man shouted from the side, his face covered in soot from Zhang Lijuan's talismans.

His clothes were burned with several holes, "They're all tough nuts!"

"Tough? How tough? Can they be tougher than me?" Zhuang Zeqiang cursed.

"They won't last long! Wear them out! Kill them, and the floating car will be ours! The supplies they just scavenged will also be ours! Keep wearing them down!"

He was getting excited and was no longer in a rush.

Five against three, Sequence 3 suppressing Sequence 2; no matter how they wore them down, they would win.

No need to rush. Fight steadily, grind them down slowly, and when they are exhausted, take them out one by one.

The sounds of fighting in the back street came in waves.

Wang Laowu was panting heavily; sweat streamed down his forehead, mixing with the blood from the web of his hand and dripping onto the ground.

Wang Zhiming's glasses had been knocked off at some point, his left cheek was swollen, and the corner of his mouth was split.

Zhang Lijuan's talismans were clearly much fewer than before, and the speed at which she threw them had slowed down.

But none of the three had fallen.

The more Zhuang Zeqiang fought, the more he felt something was wrong.

These three Sequence 2s were just too tough to handle.

A normal Sequence 2 wouldn't last twenty moves under him.

They had been fighting for nearly ten minutes, and none of the three had gone down.

And looking at their formation, they always kept a back-to-back stance.

Covering each other, supporting each other; whoever was suppressed, someone would go over to help share the burden, and whoever had an opening, someone would step in to output damage.

They had clearly practiced their coordination.

"Where are you from?" Zhuang Zeqiang stopped, stepped back, and stared at Wang Laowu, asking.

"None of your business." Wang Laowu panted heavily and spat out a bloody glob of saliva.

"You've been beating me for ages, and now you remember to ask where I'm from?"

"I'm telling you, all three of you are going to die today. Tell me which The Convoy you're from, so I can brag to others later about killing so-and-so's people."

Zhuang Zeqiang sneered.

"Dawn Convoy!" Wang Laowu puffed out his chest, pressed one hand to his chest, and roared with full lung power.

Zhuang Zeqiang was stunned.

He was just wondering what kind of thing "Dawn" was.

He had been hanging around this area for so long, how had he never heard of it? Then he saw something fly over.

It was a fist-sized rock.

It flew out from the shadows of the street corner, moving as fast as a cannonball.

Carrying a sharp whistling sound, it smashed precisely into Zhuang Zeqiang's face.

"Bang!"