Midnight. The darkness was thick as ink, and even the wind carried the scent of rust.
"We're here."
The Vixen stopped at the edge of a clearing far from the refugee tents. She pointed to a crackling bonfire ahead. "Don't keep the Captain waiting."
Lucien stopped and scanned the area.
Twelve fully armed Evolvers stood in a semi-circle, forming a killing formation. Their machetes and axes were still stained with dried black blood, and their eyes held a playful cruelty—like a pack of wolves circling a lamb.
In the center sat a man wiping a long blade—Captain Law. He wore a trench coat stripped from a dead officer of the old era, the collar turned up to hide half of his shadowy face.
"So, you're the troublemaker?" Captain Law didn't look up. The friction of his blade against the whetstone made a harsh, grating sound.
"If you have something to say, say it," Lucien's voice was calm, almost bored.
"Gutsy." Law finally looked up, his gaze sharp as a hawk's. "I hear you never eat Mutant Beast crystals, yet you're stronger than most of my men. Why?"
A low chuckle ran through the crowd. The bald man, Archer, played with a dagger, licking the blade. "Maybe he grew up eating human meat?"
"Is this why you invited me here?" Lucien asked back, completely ignoring Archer's provocation.
"In this apocalypse, evolution is everything," Captain Law stood up, pointing his long blade at Lucien, greed burning in his eyes. "Have you discovered another Evolution Path? Hand it over, and I can make you Vice Captain. Or even..." He pointed to the woman beside him. "You can have a turn with my woman."
He snapped his fingers.
The Vixen laughed coquettishly and pressed her body against Lucien, her fingers sliding snake-like across his chest. "Don't play dumb, handsome. Tell big sister the secret, and tonight I'm all yours..."
Snap.
The sound was as crisp as a breaking twig.
There was no fierce struggle. Lucien simply raised his hand and crushed her throat like he was squashing a mosquito.
The Vixen slid limply to the ground. The seduction in her eyes instantly froze into grey death, a lingering smile still hanging on her lips.
"I told you," Lucien flicked his hand as if shaking off dirt. "Stay away from me."
Dead silence. The crackling of the bonfire suddenly sounded deafening.
Captain Law yanked his blade up, roaring in fury. "You have a death wish!"
The long blade slashed down, wrapped in a gust of wind, fast enough to produce a sonic whistle. This strike was strong enough to split a Mutant Beast's skull.
But in Lucien's eyes, it moved like a slow-motion replay.
Instead of retreating, he stepped forward, his rusty iron rod swinging up at a tricky angle.
Clang!
Metal collided, sparks flying. Law's prized long blade snapped like fragile glass. The iron rod carried its momentum forward, smashing ruthlessly into his shoulder.
"Argh!" Law screamed and stumbled back, his shoulder collapsing, blood instantly soaking his trench coat. "You... How did you do that? Impossible!"
"Get him!" He clutched his shoulder and shrieked, his voice cracking with fear. "Ten crystals to whoever kills him! Chop him to pieces!"
Under the promise of heavy reward, Archer and the dozen other Evolvers roared and charged. Machetes, axes, and chains formed an airtight net of death, sealing off all of Lucien's escape routes.
"Die!" Archer thrust his dagger straight at Lucien's heart.
Lucien stood still, not even blinking. Just as the tip of the dagger was a centimeter from his chest.
His figure blurred.
That wasn't movement. That was teleportation.
Flash Step.
Afterimages trailed in the air. Archer felt his vision blur, and the man in black vanished like a ghost. Then, he felt a cold sensation in his chest.
Thud.
A very soft sound of metal piercing flesh.
Then a second. A third.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Lucien wove through the crowd, moving so fast he was nothing but a black streak of light. Every pause was accompanied by a spray of blood. No screams, just the dull thud of blades slicing meat.
Three seconds later.
When Lucien stopped again, he was standing outside the encirclement, his iron rod dripping no blood.
Behind him, the dozen Evolvers were still frozen in their charging poses. The wind blew past. Archer looked down at the blood spurting from his chest, a gurgling sound in his throat, his eyes losing focus.
"How... possible..."
As the first man fell, the others collapsed one after another like dominoes. All killed with a single strike. All with a precise hole through the heart.
"Monster..." Captain Law collapsed in the mud, kicking his legs as he scrambled backward. "Are you an Earth Class powerhouse? Don't kill me! I can be your dog! I have crystals..."
Lucien walked up to him, looking down at the local tyrant who had been so arrogant just moments ago.
"Earth Class?" He sneered. "Is that the limit of your vision?"
The iron rod swung down.
The world went quiet.
Lucien crouched and began looting. When his fingers touched the energy crystals in Law's pocket, they instantly vaporized. He glanced at the Void Ring on his finger.
"Still too little," he whispered, his voice fading in the wind. "Can't fill it up."
Noon the next day. A miracle descended.
"Look up! What is that?"
A cry erupted from the crowd. Lucien squinted at the blinding sun. A black dot was plummeting from the clouds.
It was a man in black alloy armor, carrying a mountain-splitting axe taller than himself, defying gravity as he hovered in mid-air.
Warden Mountain.
"Sky Class powerhouse..." Guard Number 98 fell to his knees, pressing his forehead into the mud. "He can really fly..."
The Warden looked down coldly at the mutated vine thrashing in the ruins, eyeing it like a god watching a bug.
Boom!
He moved. No fancy technique, just a simple freefall combined with a plain, unadorned swing.
The sonic boom of tearing air was louder than thunder. A visible white shockwave exploded outward from him—pure strength compressing the air.
"Get down!" Lucien roared, pinning the little girl beside him into the mud.
A gale swept through, blowing away countless tents. When the dust settled, the terrifying Sky Class vine was gone. Only a crater a hundred meters wide remained, filled with green ichor.
The Warden hovered above the crater, his voice booming like a bell: "Target: Jinling Base. Full speed ahead!"
"Long live the Warden!"
Cheers resounded through the sky. Lucien blended into the fanatic crowd, clenching his fist. Battle Power at least over 3000. Survival rate zero if I fought him now.
One day later.
Massive concrete walls appeared on the horizon. They were covered in claw marks and dark red bloodstains—medals from countless zombie tides.
Jinling Base. They had arrived.
The internal world here was cruelly divided.
The Outer City was packed with filthy tents, where skeletal survivors scavenged through trash like rats. But just over the wall in the Inner City, tall buildings stood, lights shone brightly—a paradise for Evolvers and the privileged.
"Evolvers, step out! Go to the express lane on the right!"
An officer wearing the scales-of-justice emblem of the Judgment Camp shouted through a megaphone, his eyes holding undisguised superiority.
The examination hall smelled of pungent disinfectant. This was the most crucial step of entry—screening for the zombie virus.
"Next! Number 103!"
Lucien walked up, sat down, and rolled up his sleeve. A young nurse skillfully stuck a needle into his vein.
The moment bright red blood flowed into the test tube.
A subtle light flashed deep in Lucien's pupils. He controlled his muscles to vibrate slightly, disturbing the blood flow at a high frequency.
The blood in the tube looked eerily red. Under the light, it seemed to flash with a strange purple hue.
The nurse frowned, shaking the tube. "Hmm?"
Lucien's heartbeat remained steady, but that fraction of a second felt stretched to infinity. If they found an anomaly, dissection awaited him.
The purple faded quickly, returning to normal red. The camouflage mechanism of the Body Forging Script had kicked in.
"What is it?" Lucien asked indifferently.
"Nothing," the nurse adjusted her glasses. "Probably just the light. Everything's normal. Welcome to the Judgment Camp, Lucien."
Lucien rolled down his sleeve and stood up.
No one noticed his palms were slick with cold sweat.