Chapter 324: Survive First

"Drag this bastard out for me!"

Thud!

Qi Xiaoshuai was tossed dazedly into the middle of the road.

"Beat him first!"

Before he could even regain his senses, a barrage of punches and kicks came crashing down…

"Fuck, you ran, made my Big Dog get hurt, you ran, you ran, I fucking—!"

Five or six men beat him, but Big Dog's driver hit hardest, cursing as he struck, heartbroken over his beloved car's damage—the bumper cracked and one airbag had exploded!

Most of Qi Xiaoshuai's usual training at Tianma Isle targeted zombies, but Zhang Su had also taught him some tricks for fighting humans, including how to defend and counter when surrounded.

Qi Xiaoshuai curled up, clutching his head, using his arms and legs to block and cushion the blows; slowly, he regained some awareness. But the moment he tried to think of a counterattack, a heavy kick slammed into his skull—his head rang, then his face took another blow, blood gushed from his nose, and tears welled up with the sting.

Zhang Su's methods weren't flawed, but they required robust physical strength and extraordinary pain tolerance—neither of which Qi Xiaoshuai possessed. His advantages were speed and agility; once trapped, he was done for.

"Brother Jie, we can't let him die too easily—he's gotta pay for the car!"

The Fatty, who'd jumped into the ditch to dodge gunfire, didn't join the beating. He spoke to the submachine gun man, his face caked in dirt.

"Relax, anyone who's survived months in the apocalypse won't die this easy—he's even got decent defense. Guys, hit harder! Don't let him laugh at us for being too weak to even beat a guy!"

The submachine gun man holstered his weapon, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and squatted comfortably by the roadside, watching his buddies beat the boy.

But this beating didn't last long—not because they'd grown merciful, but because the submachine gun man spotted zombies approaching. He said: "Alright, guys, lift this kid up. Let these starved zombies get a snack!"

"Got it, haha!"

"Brother Jie's got style! Come on!"

In moments, five or six men hauled Qi Xiaoshuai up, twisting his arms behind his back, one yanking his hair, another pressing against his waist—ensuring he stood upright, leaning forward, but wouldn't collapse.

"Kid, wanna feed the zombies? If not, Heihei, call me Grandpa!"

The man called Brother Jie stepped before Qi Xiaoshuai, smiling happily, reaching to pat his cheek—but paused, repulsed by the blood and grime coating the boy's face.

Qi Xiaoshuai's right eyebrow bone was shattered, his eyelid swollen, vision blurred as he stared at the man before him, blood frothing in his mouth as he mumbled a few unintelligible sounds.

"What'd you say? Can't hear you, grandson. Are you calling me Grandpa?"

Brother Jie cupped his ear.

Through the haze, Qi Xiaoshuai faintly saw zombies shambling in the distance—now close. If not for the freezing cold, they'd already sprinted over. His mumbled sounds grew more urgent, mixed with struggle—but his body was held tight by several hands, with no strength left to break free.

"Ah! Aiyah! Ya! Grandpa!"

The desperate cries finally formed coherent syllables.

No one fears death more than the prospect of it—dignity, honor, all mean nothing when death looms.

"Ah, good grandson, we're all your grandpas, got it?"

Brother Jie wasn't satisfied with his cruelty—he kept humiliating Qi Xiaoshuai.

Qi Xiaoshuai nodded shakily, lips trembling: "Ah dao, ji dao, dou hai ye ye, ou si ye ye…"

"That's perfect. One trip out, I pick up a grandson."

"Haha, good grandson, Grandpa loves you." The man behind him, pressing against Qi Xiaoshuai's spine, spoke as he added more pressure.

"Hahaha!" Brother Jie grinned, satisfied. He turned to face the zombies now mere steps away. "Brothers, deal with the zombies first—this grandson ain't going anywhere!"

"Got it."

The men obeyed, flinging Qi Xiaoshuai to the side, adding a few more kicks before rushing forward to kill the zombies.

"Grandson, you were running so fast a moment ago—why not run now?"

Brother Jie stared at the motionless Qi Xiaoshuai on the ground, crouched down, grabbed his hair, and yanked his head up.

Qi Xiaoshuai's face was a bloody mess, eyes rolled back, several teeth gone, blood and foam oozing from his nostrils. The white mist puffing from his mouth and nose showed he still breathed—his blood on the ground had frozen in the cold.

"Not good at all! You can't even run anymore? Others sweat when they run—you bleed? Hahaha, isn't that funny, guys?"

The submachine gun man watched his buddies laugh, then said: "Let Grandpa have a nice chat with you."

He grabbed Qi Xiaoshuai's collar, flipped him onto his back, then pulled him into a sitting position, sitting opposite him.

"You're dressed neatly, have a working van—tell me, which camp did you come from? I warn you: answer honestly, and you might still be useful—we could take you to trade for supplies. Lie to me, and you'll suffer before being fed to the zombies."

Brother Jie stared coldly at Qi Xiaoshuai, who swayed, barely able to sit upright.

"Kuan… Kuan Zhuang."

Qi Xiaoshuai's eyes were glazed, every part of him ached—but he felt clearer now. He knew he had to cooperate to survive. He saw what these men wanted—and their limits. If he could lead them to the military base, they'd all be dead meat!

But first—he had to stay alive.

"That's better! If you'd just cooperated earlier, you wouldn't have gotten beaten so badly. But kid, where's Kuan Zhuang? Don't you dare make up some random place to fool me!"

"Ah lu lu o e @#￥…"

Qi Xiaoshuai mumbled something incomprehensible, head bowed—clearly struggling.

"Quick, quick, Da Cong, bring some hot water! If he dies for real, he's worthless!"

Brother Jie waved to the chubby man riding with him.

"Got it, Brother Jie, you hang on, don't you dare die!"

Soon, a thermos was handed to Brother Jie.

"Here, drink…"

"Cough! Cough! Cough…"

Brother Jie pinched Qi Xiaoshuai's cheeks and forced two sips down—but the boy drank too fast, blood and foam clogged his throat, and he coughed it all back up. The blood seeped into the thermos, turning the water faintly red, though some did go down.

"Fuck you, you ruined my water! Talk now, or I'll kill you for real!"

Brother Jie stared at the blood spreading in the cup, furious—he slapped Qi Xiaoshuai's head again, hard.

"Qingxian, south… south grass slope… Cao Po Township… Kuan Zhuang."

Qi Xiaoshuai took a deep breath, his organs burning, unsure if any bones were broken—his whole body felt like it would fall apart.

"Anyone know Cao Po Township?"

Brother Jie asked his companions.

"Yeah, south of Qingxian, ten or so kilometers."

The man with the iron spear answered loudly.

"Kid, tell me about your camp. Lie to me, and I'll make you wish you were dead."

Brother Jie slapped Qi Xiaoshuai's face, then wiped his hand on the boy's clothes.

"About thirty people, men… women…"

Qi Xiaoshuai mumbled, recounting the core personnel of Tianma Isle—his memory was sharp, so he wouldn't slip up or lie.

(End of Chapter)