Chapter 75: Killing, Fear, Overwhelming

Red, all red.

The red of flame, the red of blood.

Zhuang Xiangming’s breath rasped like a bellows, sweat pouring endlessly from his forehead.

His eyes, bloodshot and wide, burned with fury with no outlet.

Ahead, the Firefeather Men were slaughtering indiscriminately.

The sounds of doors being kicked in, explosions, screams, and the thud of blades severing limbs rang continuously.

Blood flowed from the doorways, severed limbs were tossed out, and the Firefeather Men’s wild laughter echoed through the halls.

This made Zhuang Xiangming even angrier.

“Captain! Let’s go! I can’t take it anymore!”

A young man spoke, his face twisted in fury and terror.

Gross, mottled scars covered most of his face; one eye was half-blind, his scalp bald.

These were burn marks from battles against the Firefeather Men.

Such horrific injuries would have required surgery even before the apocalypse.

Not to mention after it.

Had the priest not treated him early, the young man would have been dead long ago.

Even so, the scars remained severe.

“No!” Zhuang Xiangming said firmly, “We must hold. Wait for reinforcements.”

“But—”

“No buts. Hao Wei, look behind you.”

Hao Wei fell silent; he lacked the courage to turn around.

Behind them, in the room, lay dozens of civilians and wounded.

Their faces were blank with numbness and fear.

From the initial rescue, to the subsequent escape, to being hunted.

They had witnessed the deaths of countless humans—including soldiers sent to save them.

From hell to heaven, then back to hell.

Now they were trapped inside, unable to leave.

At this point, everyone understood: the hope of rescue was vanishingly slim.

This building was a hell, and everyone waited for judgment to descend.

No one screamed. No one struggled.

Those who still had the strength to fight had already died along the way.

Those left were physically and mentally exhausted, their minds broken.

They had not yet given up, mostly because they clung to the hope of Zhuang Xiangming’s promised reinforcements.

That was their only light.

But was there really any reinforcement?

If there were, why had the screams and laughter never stopped?

It was just self-deception.

“Captain… is there really any reinforcement?” a soldier beside him couldn’t help asking.

His voice was quiet, but it drew everyone’s attention.

“Yes, yes, there definitely is!” Zhuang Xiangming’s voice grew louder, as if trying to convince himself.

“As long as we hold out, once they’ve cleared the lower floors, our commander will come to reinforce us.”

“Think about it—why aren’t these monsters attacking us right away?”

“Isn’t it because they’re afraid? Their main force is blocked below, so they’re planning to flee.”

“Otherwise, when our reinforcements arrive, they’ll be trapped with no escape.”

“If we just hold on, we will win.”

Zhuang Xiangming didn’t know why he’d spun such nonsense.

Anyone who thought for a moment would realize the truth.

Why weren’t the monsters attacking? Not because they were afraid.

They were simply crushing the easy targets.

Zhuang Xiangming’s group was numerous and still had fighting strength.

The monsters held the advantage but feared losing their own lives.

First, they’d kill all the hidden humans, then concentrate their forces to crush them all at once.

Yet no one contradicted him—as if they all believed him.

Because it was their only comfort.

But just as Zhuang Xiangming finished speaking, less than a minute passed.

A rapid patter of footsteps echoed.

Zhuang Xiangming’s eyes narrowed.

What? Such dense footsteps?

At some point, a squad of Firefeather Men appeared around the corner ahead, advancing toward Zhuang Xiangming’s group.

Their faces twisted in malice, their curved blades dripping blood.

More Firefeather Men emerged from rooms along the way, joining the advance.

In an instant, their fragile dream shattered.

“Mage! Cast resistance to energy damage—now!”

“No spell slots left! None at all!”

“Can’t you just squeeze one out?!”

“If I could squeeze one out, I’d have broken out already!”

Then came a chorus of shouting, yet most still dared not launch a counterattack.

Despair spread through the room; some civilians simply closed their eyes.

What did it matter? Stick your head out, you get a sword; pull it back, you still get a sword.

In the apocalypse, friends and family were all dead.

I’ve survived a month—I’ve already won.

Why keep clinging to life?

The enemy hadn’t even arrived, and their lines were already crumbling.

They claimed to still have strength to fight—but this fight would be one-sided.

Should he blame them? Zhuang Xiangming gave a bitter laugh.

Before the apocalypse, they were all just ordinary, law-abiding civilians.

To have held on this long was already remarkable.

Forget it. I should’ve listened to that kid.

We could’ve broken out earlier—and taken a few Firefeather Men with us.

Wait—why is that kid charging?!

“Come on, monsters! You scarred my face—I’m taking your lives today!”

Hao Wei charged forward like a moth diving into flame.

Zhuang Xiangming gritted his teeth and followed.

If we’re going to die anyway, let’s die with a bang.

BOOM!

An explosion erupted behind the Firefeather Men, flames roaring skyward.

Something drastic had happened.

“What’s going on?” Zhuang Xiangming wondered.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The leading Firefeather Men turned around and rushed back.

CLANG! CLASH!

As swords and blades clashed, the front-line Firefeather Men fell like cut wheat.

A figure moved through them, the three-meter-wide corridor no obstacle to his speed.

Every strike, every step, seemed perfectly natural—no wasted motion.

Like a player who’d cleared the level a hundred times, not a single mistake.

Whenever a Firefeather Man tried to detonate, the figure killed him first.

Or turned and retreated, forcing the explosion to kill only their own kind.

“This… is… the… reinforcement…”

Hao Wei swallowed hard, his voice trembling.

He had stopped dead, stunned by the sight.

“Yeah.” Zhuang Xiangming, too, was stunned and uncertain.

Are there such people within Ancheng?

Although some elites, like their leader under BUFF, can single-handedly kill monsters.

But they still need to exchange a few blows, and the monsters cannot be too numerous.

How could it compare to the figure ahead, who effortlessly slew one after another with a single sword stroke?

A dozen Firefeathers were instantly slain.

This isn’t support—it’s a one-sided massacre!

Those behind were also stunned; they had heard the explosions.

Instinctively, they curled up, hoping to die with less pain.

Yet no matter how long they waited, they felt no pain, nor saw any flames.

Instead, they heard the screams of the Firefeathers.

These monsters’ cries sounded like bird calls; distinguishing them wasn’t hard.

A long-absent thrill began to stir.

“Are you the officer in charge here?”

Zhuang Xiangming snapped back to reality and saw a young man holding a long sword standing before Hao Wei.

“No…” Somehow, Hao Wei felt nervous.

The young man before him had just saved their lives.

Yet he felt fear—an awe toward a life beyond humanity.

“I am—I’m the company commander, sent here under Commander Luo’s orders to provide support.”

Zhuang Xiangming interjected, easing Hao Wei’s embarrassment.

“Hmm.” Fang Shi said coolly, “Are there any survivors? If there are, go downstairs—the lower levels are safe now.”

“Really?” Zhuang Xiangming was stunned; boundless joy surged in his heart.

“Truly safe already?”

Fang Shi said: “Yes, it’s safe now.”

“Do as you please. I’m leaving—other places still need me.”

“Thank you, my lord! Thank you, my lord!” Zhuang Xiangming hurriedly bowed his thanks.

He didn’t know how to address the young man, and unconsciously blurted out “my lord,” as in ancient dramas.

Fang Shi said nothing, turned, and walked away, vanishing quickly around the corner.

“Are we safe?” Hao Wei murmured.

“Yes, we’re safe—thanks to that my lord.”

Zhuang Xiangming at first felt awkward, but the more he said it, the more natural it became.

Now that he thought about it, the young man’s overwhelming power truly deserved the title “my lord.”

“We’re safe!” Hao Wei shouted, then burst into sobs.

This crying instantly spread sorrow.

The survivors, now freed from death’s grip, began to feel grief.

They had thought they would never cry again.

After the Collapse, 90% of humanity had died.

Then many more perished to the Walking Dead and otherworldly creatures.

Those who survived had lost nearly all human connections; those who should have cried had already cried.

But now they wanted to cry—cry for themselves, cry for life.

This night was bloodier and more terrifying than the first day of the Collapse.

…

Fang Shi hurried down the stairs toward the next floor.

The scenes along this path were far bloodier than during the Third Impact of his past life.

First, Firefeathers had limited strength—they couldn’t compare to second-tier creatures.

Often, second-tier creatures killed without spilling blood, leaving no corpses behind.

Second, human strength was far too weak; they hadn’t learned any of the miraculous spells.

Like high-mobility teleportation, flight, or wall-piercing.

Or group defenses like Stone Wall or Turn Flesh to Mud.

Or even second-tier physical classes simply climbing up the exterior walls.

These methods prevented humans from being easily split apart on the battlefield.

They could even block otherworldly creatures at the first moment, keeping them outside buildings.

But now, floors above the tenth were filled with slaughter.

The squads sent by Luo Song to provide support had achieved only partial results.

They were mostly crushed by Firefeathers and trapped in isolated spots.

They lacked even the ability to launch counterattacks; their retreat routes were cut off.

They couldn’t even send messengers to request aid.

Even if someone had requested help, Luo Song couldn’t send reinforcements.

Sending more men would leave the lower floors undefended.

The reason was simple: there were far too few combat specialists among humans.

Though theoretically every human had an attribute panel and immense potential.

In practice, only a few could rise above the rest.

First was personality—not everyone was fearless or bold.

Humans naturally feared powerful things and avoided them.

In short, they lacked the courage to raise a blade against the strong.

Facing Walking Dead, creatures with low stats,

when outnumbered, courage would rise, and they became coveted targets.

But against Firefeathers—fast-moving monsters—

even with proper hunting methods,

newcomers couldn’t avoid casualties.

Even veterans suffered accidents.

So some would hesitate, preferring other work over combat.

Some were so cowardly they wouldn’t even risk killing Walking Dead.

Had it not been for the government later offering incentives to forcibly unlock attribute panels

to boost productivity,

some people might still not have unlocked theirs.

Children and the elderly also struggled to claim kills.

But now that everyone had unlocked combat classes, it was beyond the government’s current capability.

The reason was simple: there weren’t enough Walking Dead to go around.

Unlocking a combat class required 100 experience points—that’s ten Walking Dead per person.

But Earth’s Walking Dead conversion rate was only 90%, averaging nine per person.

Even if you evenly distributed all Walking Dead in Ancheng, it still wouldn’t be enough.

Plus, many people had killed more than their share.

Fang Shi alone had slain nearly a thousand.

Thus, those falling behind could only unlock combat classes by hunting Firefeathers.

But how many had the courage to do so?

In his past life, Fang Shi regretted this very thing.

Before his rebirth, he had the physical fitness of a second-tier athlete.

But he feared infection from Walking Dead and hesitated to act.

This delay meant no kills, and his level naturally fell behind.

Falling behind meant missing out on kills, and the vicious cycle made advancement nearly impossible.

And the later it got, the worse it became.

In the Collapse, there was no team play— whoever landed the final blow got the experience.

Even if you played support, if the melee got the kill, you got nothing.

Thus Zhao Wenjun, Luo Song, and others had gained great fortune in this Impact—if they survived, their levels would skyrocket.

Of course, magic users had other leveling paths and future methods to advance.

But non-combatants were doomed, forced to rely on future state welfare programs.

Yet this was their own choice.

In fact, there was one extreme method: adopting a “culling strategy,” accepting massive casualties.

With attribute panels in place, it would inevitably create a nation of soldiers.

This was most evident in Africa.

Every man, woman, and child must take part in the battle.

Even the cowardliest will become fiercely brave under the bloodshed.

They will be transformed into qualified warriors.

But this is absolutely forbidden in Huaguo.

As long as Huaguo’s government has not completely collapsed, such a thing will not be allowed.

If Fang Shi does not appear, this second wave of assault.

At least half of Ancheng’s humans will be killed or wounded.

In the worst case, up to eighty percent may die.

However, Fang Shi’s appearance will shatter all of this.

His base attribute points already effortlessly overwhelm the Firefeathers.

The Firefeathers’ base strength is 15 points, rising to 19 with rank bonuses.

Fang Shi’s base strength is 19 points, rising to 23 with rank bonuses.

An eight-point advantage in strength alone allows his ordinary attacks to crush them.

Moreover, Fang Shi possesses a vast array of powerful specializations.

The extraordinary swordsmanship Zhuang Xiangming saw is the result of stacked specializations.

In Fang Shi’s eyes, all object movements are painfully slow.

He has ample time to consider how to use his swordsmanship to inflict the most effective damage.

Thus revealing his godlike skill.

This is Fang Shi’s current strength—a power capable of crushing the second wave.

This night will also be Fang Shi’s bountiful night.