165: Chapter 165 Da Nan City

Song Yang's words were like a massive boulder, weighing heavily on the heart of every woman present.

The shock brought by that demonstration was far more profound than any lecture could ever be.

On the way back from the basement to the living room, no one spoke; only several sets of footsteps of varying depths echoed in the stairwell.

The women were lost in their own thoughts, but Song Yang paid them no further mind.

He returned to the basement alone and closed the heavy metal door, isolating himself from everything outside.

Song Yang entered the combat training field and began his training.

The hatch closed, and the space before his eyes instantly transformed into a pure white void.

“Zeus.” Song Yang's voice echoed through the space.

“I am here.”

“Bring up the Black Dragon's data. Run a combat simulation with one hundred percent fidelity.”

“Data analysis indicates that given your current physical fitness, your win rate for this battle is 0.00001%, and the probability of surviving for more than thirty seconds is 0.7%. Confirm execution?”

“Confirm.”

Song Yang knew very well that the Black Dragon would definitely not let matters rest.

It would surely seek revenge; it was only a matter of time.

The moment his voice fell, the surrounding pure white space was rapidly eroded by darkness and flames, turning into a field of burning ruins.

The sky was a dark crimson, and a massive shadow loomed over the earth.

“Roar—!!!”

A roar that seemed to come from the depths of the soul rang out. The Black Dragon appeared out of thin air in Song Yang's field of vision, its dark gold vertical pupils burning with endless fury and killing intent.

There was no testing, no redundant movements.

The instant Song Yang saw it clearly, the Black Dragon's sharp claws swung toward him.

Song Yang's pupils contracted sharply. He didn't even have time to activate his flight device; his physical instincts already forced him to push his power to the limit, crossing his arms in front of him for protection.

The next second.

There was no pain, no process.

His body was sliced into several pieces, deader than dead.

The scene before his eyes instantly shattered, returning to the pure white void.

【Simulation Ended】

【Survival Time: 0.8 seconds】

【Judgment: Instant Kill】

A cold notification tone sounded in his ear.

Song Yang stood in place, not moving for a long time, as fine beads of cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

It was exactly as he had guessed—no, it was worse than he had guessed.

Even though he had gained such a massive boost, he was still not enough in the face of that Black Dragon.

0.8 seconds.

Song Yang knew very well that the enraged creature would never easily let him go, nor anyone else who had harmed its child.

Perhaps before long, this city would face its wrath.

When that time came, what would he have to block it?

Stepping out of the training pod, the phantom sensation of being torn apart by the Black Dragon's claws still lingered in his nerve endings.

Song Yang raised a hand to wipe the cold sweat from his brow. A comfortable environment would only erode his fighting spirit, letting him slowly dull into prey within this seemingly safe fortress.

He needed pressure; he needed a real life-and-death struggle.

Danan City.

That was a city completely swallowed by mutated plants.

Perhaps only there could he become even stronger.

Leaving the safe house, Song Yang stepped onto his flight device and soared into the sky, heading south at extreme speed.

The flight device's speed reached its limit, turning into a streak of light that left the city far behind.

The scenery below receded rapidly, as the desolate earth was gradually replaced by an eerie dark green.

Danan City had arrived.

Soon, the outline of a city completely covered by endless vegetation appeared at the edge of his vision.

It was not a normal green.

Everywhere one looked were colossal black vines, like dormant giant pythons tightly coiled and wrapped around skyscrapers, nearly strangling the entire city to death.

To be safe, Song Yang did not land directly on the street.

His gaze locked onto a large department store. The glass skylight on the top floor had long since been shattered, revealing a pitch-black entrance.

With a flash of his figure, he descended silently through the hole and landed steadily on the dust-covered floor.

With a thought, the flight device beneath his feet and his spare weapons instantly vanished, all stored away into his system space.

From this moment on, he would explore this plant-ruled city on foot in the most primitive way.

The department store was deathly silent, with shelves overturned and expensive, useless goods covered in thick dust. Eerily colored mushrooms and lichens grew in many corners.

Reinforced concrete was strangled with clear cracks. This didn't look like human ruins; it looked more like a giant tomb being slowly digested.

Relying on his enhanced five senses, Song Yang remained alert to every slight movement.

He needed this most primitive sense of hunting.

He stopped his pace in the maternal and infant supplies area on the second floor.

A suppressed argument came from ahead.

“No! The biscuits are for emergencies; no one can touch them!”

“Emergency, emergency! It's an emergency every day! Uncle Zhao, we haven't eaten for two days! If this keeps up, we'll starve to death before those ghost things outside kill us!” a shrill female voice retorted.

“Sister Juan is right! I don't care, they must be shared today! Otherwise, I'll be so hungry I won't even be able to lift my blade. How are we supposed to get back!”

Song Yang bypassed a row of collapsed cribs and peeked through the gaps in the shelves.

It was a crude camp pieced together from several counters.

A grey-haired man was pressing down on a young burly man's shoulder; he must be Uncle Zhao.

The burly man he was holding back was called A-Qiang. He was tall and large, clutching a weapon modified from a fire axe.

Beside them, a woman in tight leather clothes with a decent figure was standing with her arms crossed, watching coldly and muttering something incessantly.

She was the woman called Sister Juan.

In the corner of the camp, a girl who looked only sixteen or seventeen was huddled in the shadows. She was very thin and small, hugging her knees with her face buried in her arms.

A typical post-apocalyptic survivor squad.

An experienced but perhaps overly conservative leader, a simple-minded and physically strong combatant, a selfish trouble-maker, and a marginalized tag-along.

Uncle Zhao ultimately couldn't win against the other two. He sighed, took a small bag of compressed biscuits from a locked cabinet, poured out a few pieces, and gave them to A-Qiang and Sister Juan.

Sister Juan took the biscuits and immediately stuffed them into her bosom like she was protecting food, glancing warily at A-Qiang.

A-Qiang, on the other hand, tossed the biscuits directly into his mouth, chewing and swallowing them in a few bites. His Adam's apple bobbed; he seemed unsatisfied.

Uncle Zhao didn't take any for himself. Holding the last two pieces of biscuits, he walked over to the girl in the corner and softened his voice a bit:

“Xiao Ya, eat something.”

The girl looked up, revealing a dust-streaked but delicate face. She shook her head: “Uncle Zhao, I’m not hungry. You eat.”

“Be good.”

Uncle Zhao stuffed the biscuits into her hand while he leaned against a counter, pulling a dried stem of some unknown plant from his pocket and chewing on it idly.

Just then, A-Qiang, who was chewing his biscuits, suddenly paused. He snapped his head around, his bull-like eyes staring fixedly at the direction where Song Yang was hiding.

“Who’s there?!”

He shouted, grabbing the weapon by his side and pointing it at the shelves.

Uncle Zhao and Sister Juan's expressions changed instantly.

Uncle Zhao immediately pulled the girl named Xiao Ya behind him, his gaze becoming incredibly alert.

In the silence, only the sound of footsteps rang out.

Song Yang stepped out from behind the shelves with a smile on his face.

A-Qiang's pupils contracted. He couldn't sense any threat from the other party, but that was exactly the greatest threat.

He tightened his grip on his weapon and roared with feigned strength:

“Who are you?!”

Sister Juan's eyes, however, lit up.

What she was sizing up wasn't Song Yang's face, but his clean and tidy clothes. In this hellhole, someone who could maintain such an appearance could never be an ordinary person.

This person must have immense benefits on him!

“A friend.”

Uncle Zhao spoke up, “You actually dare to come to this hellhole alone. Speak, what do you want?”

Song Yang's gaze swept over each of them, taking in their expressions.

“Just passing through.”

He said indifferently.