Chapter 210: Death Cycle (VIII)

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Chapter 210: Death Cycle (VIII)

Now that he had finally entered a human base, Shang Ke turned on the computer provided in the room and began gathering information about this world: the locations of the survivor bases humanity had established, famous mercenary groups, notable ability users, and anything else that might prove useful.

He was reading intently when the screen abruptly went black. Cracks spread across it, followed by the table, the teacup, the window glass… One after another, objects around the room began to fracture with a continuous series of faint snapping sounds.

Shang Ke spun around. Behind him, cold light flashed in Di Kui’s eyes and a blood-red tide churned within them. The foundation coating his skin split into layer after layer of cracks, making him look like a porcelain figure on the verge of shattering. An immense force erupted from his body and swept violently in every direction.

Damn it. This guy was going berserk again!

Without thinking, Shang Ke snatched a baby bottle from his belt and accurately shoved the nipple into Di Kui’s mouth.

Di Kui stood motionless with the bottle between his teeth, staring at Shang Ke without expression. After a moment of silence, he slowly—very slowly—took a sip. The blood-red light in his eyes gradually receded, the spreading cracks around them stopped, and the terrifying pressure vanished without a trace.

Only after Di Kui raised the bottle and began drinking properly did Shang Ke let out a long breath. He still had no idea what had suddenly set the Zombie King off, but at least he had subdued the crisis in time.

Baby bottle deployed: invincible demon king instantly transformed into an innocent baby!

From this day forward, the baby bottle would be Shang Ke’s indispensable ultimate weapon.

Di Kui crouched on the floor, hugging the bottle and drinking milk while staring gloomily at Shang Ke. He still looked ferocious, but at least he no longer seemed inclined to attack.

Shang Ke suddenly wanted to laugh. A faint smile escaped into his eyes and brows, rippling across his face like light over water.

The next instant, his vision darkened. He was pinned against the wall, and the sweet taste of milk flooded his mouth.

Di Kui kissed him fiercely, possessively stealing away his breath.

The kiss left Shang Ke dizzy, his lips and tongue numb. He began to wonder whether this time he might actually die of suffocation.

Through the haze, he suddenly heard fabric tear. Something hard struck his lower abdomen immediately afterward, sending a numb ache through him.

Di Kui drew back slightly, his gaze burning as he stared at the man in his arms.

Panting, Shang Ke looked down—and stared in horror. Something between Di Kui’s legs had punched straight through his pants and now stood rigidly in the air, pointing at him with downright menacing force.

A chill ran down Shang Ke’s spine, and cold sweat poured out at once.

Wasn’t that supposed to be the most vulnerable part of a man’s body? The thing in front of him had clearly evolved into a biochemical weapon!

Di Kui looked down as well and frowned. “My pants tore.”

Of course they tore! Forget pants—at this rate, even a steel plate would have been punctured!

Shang Ke unobtrusively widened the distance between them. Thank goodness the pants had taken that “stab” for him. Otherwise, his abdomen would be suffering from far more than a little numb pain right now.

Just then, a commotion erupted outside. People rushed anxiously from their rooms, calling out to one another and asking what had caused the disturbance.

Di Kui’s power had swept across the entire base. It lasted only a few seconds, yet it filled everyone with an indescribable sense of despair and fear. Anyone capable of unleashing such overwhelming pressure in an instant had to be at least Level Nine.

A Level Nine expert had appeared in this tiny base?

In a room elsewhere in the compound, a black-haired man abruptly opened his eyes and stared fixedly at the wall before him, his piercing gaze seeming capable of seeing straight through it.

Light from outside cast half his handsome profile in shadow, while faint golden gleams flickered deep within his dark pupils.

“Huo Xuan.” A man’s voice sounded outside the door, followed by a measured series of knocks.

The black-haired man flicked his gaze toward it. The tightly shut door gave a soft click and silently swung open.

“Huo Xuan, what was that just now? Do you know?” The newcomer was a long-haired man around thirty, handsome and refined, with narrow eyes that gave him an elegant, aloof air. Any mercenary present would have recognized him immediately: Wind Lord Zuo Xian, the strongest member of Huo Xuan’s combat team and one of only three Level Nine ability users in the world.

“An expert. Three hundred meters northwest.” Huo Xuan rose and walked slowly to the window. Ignoring the cracks in the glass, he calmly gazed out at the lights beyond.

“An expert? What kind?” Anyone whom the strongest man in the world personally called an “expert” had to be at least Level Eight. Yet even Zuo Xian, a Level Nine ability user, had just been suppressed by that force. The stranger’s strength was obvious.

“No weaker than me,” Huo Xuan replied.

Zuo Xian had already suspected as much, but hearing Huo Xuan admit it himself still brought surprise to his face.

“Should I go pay them a visit?” Zuo Xian asked.

“No.” Huo Xuan narrowed his eyes slightly. “That person’s power is saturated with the aura of death. For now, it would be better not to make contact.”

Zuo Xian nodded and let the matter drop. “We brought two Level Eight ability users and one Level Nine, and you’re personally overseeing the operation. Isn’t that enough to deal with one General-class zombie? Why recruit anyone else?”

“Not one,” Huo Xuan replied. “Two. Two General-class zombies, and…”

“And what?” Zuo Xian pressed.

Huo Xuan was silent for a moment. “Hopefully I’m worrying over nothing. In any case, recruiting a few more strong fighters can’t hurt.”

The next morning, Shang Ke walked out of the room with all four limbs still intact. Di Kui followed behind him in a loose set of sportswear.

A certain Zombie King had stayed painfully aroused all night, his temper fluctuating unpredictably. To prevent tragedy, Shang Ke had prepared dozens of bottles of milk. At the slightest sign of trouble, he immediately stuffed one into Di Kui’s mouth.

Nourished by an abundant supply of milk, Di Kui “grew” very well. The night passed without incident, and Shang Ke actually emerged alive.

Thank goodness the Zombie King had no idea what “mating” was!

“Shang Ke?” He had only just stepped out of the dormitory building when someone called his name from behind. Shang Ke turned and found, to his surprise, Song Bin and the mercenaries who had nearly been killed by Di Kui over a few skewers of grilled fish.

“What a coincidence. We meet again.” Song Bin greeted Shang Ke, then shifted his gaze to the man beside him. “And this is?”

Shang Ke hesitated briefly before answering, “My friend. Wang Kui.” He had simply borrowed the character meaning “king” for the surname.

Di Kui glanced at him but did not object. His indifferent gaze swept casually over Song Bin and the others.

Song Bin’s little finger trembled involuntarily. An icy chill shot straight into his heart, and the color of his face changed slightly. The people behind him, however, showed no particular reaction.

The stronger a person was, the more sensitive they became to other powerful beings. Even as a Level Eight ability user, Song Bin could not prevent himself from feeling fear in Di Kui’s presence. His shock went without saying.

“Hello. I’m Song Bin. Nice to meet you.” Song Bin steadied himself and extended a hand toward Di Kui.

Di Kui stared at the offered hand with grave concentration.

Shang Ke would have bet anything that the man was deciding whether to snap that hand in half or simply crush it to pulp.

“Sorry. My friend isn’t very good with people. Please forgive him if he’s rude.” Shang Ke stepped in and shook Song Bin’s hand in Di Kui’s place.

Song Bin was a Level Eight ability user and Huo Xuan’s sworn brother, a major figure anywhere he went. Di Kui could afford to look down on everyone, but Shang Ke had no interest in creating enemies over something trivial.

Shang Ke’s handshake spared Song Bin some embarrassment, but it immediately put Di Kui in a very bad mood.

Before Shang Ke could even lower his hand, Di Kui seized his wrist. A crisp crack followed.

The sound was not loud, but with Song Bin’s hearing, there was no chance he missed it. He looked at Shang Ke’s deathly pale face, then at the wrist clamped in Di Kui’s grip. “…Are you all right?” he asked hesitantly.

Shang Ke wanted to cry. If he had known this would happen, he would have kept his hands to himself! Song Bin’s hand was perfectly fine, while his own had been snapped. Where was the justice in that?!

Worse, Di Kui’s fingernails had pierced Shang Ke’s skin. Bright red blood welled out, and its delicious scent rapidly spread through the air.

Shang Ke was just about to answer when zombie howls rose outside the base. At first they came from far away, few and scattered, but they rapidly drew nearer and multiplied until they merged into a vast roaring tide surging toward the base from every direction.

Watching Song Bin and the others hurry away, Shang Ke stood there dumbfounded. He had only shaken someone’s hand…

“Zombie attack!” The mercenaries shouted warnings to one another, grabbing their weapons and rushing into defensive positions.

Human bases were attacked by zombies often enough that the experienced mercenaries did not panic immediately. What none of them could have imagined was that this assault would be fiercer than any they had faced before.

“What’s going on?” Half an hour later, the mercenaries quickly realized something was wrong. “Where are all these zombies coming from? How can there be so many?”

Beyond the defensive walls, countless zombies poured in from every direction. At first they were all low-rank gray-eyed zombies. Before long, white-eyed zombies appeared as well. High-rank red-eyed zombies and General-class zombies were usually too fast or elusive to pick out easily with the naked eye.

Panic began spreading through the base. The mercenaries were not afraid of fighting zombies—but only so long as the enemies’ number and rank remained within a range they could handle.

Twenty people against fifty zombies was no problem. Fifty against five hundred—or even five thousand—was another matter entirely. Unless every mercenary were Level Seven or higher, few could expect to survive. Worse, anyone scratched or bitten by a zombie had a fifty-percent chance of turning. Even for Level Eight ability users and above, the risk was still ten percent.

Shang Ke had never imagined that one simple handshake could cause this much trouble.

Di Kui clearly had no intention of suppressing the zombies and simply let them besiege the base. The only thing Shang Ke could do was stay inside and wait for his wound to heal. Once the zombies could no longer smell his blood, they should gradually disperse.

The wound itself was small. One or two hours should be enough for it to close completely.

However, while Shang Ke was waiting for it to heal, Di Kui disappeared—and took a baby bottle full of milk with him!

Shang Ke quickly wound several thick layers of bandage around the injury, then doused it in strong perfume. Once he was certain not even a trace of blood scent could escape, he hurried out to search for Di Kui.

There was no way he dared let a walking god of slaughter wander freely around a human base.

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