Chapter 412: Hit Where You Point!

"I fucking hell!"

At this moment, Zhang Su, hiding in a dark corner, felt dark lines streak across his forehead—he never expected Yu Wen to pull this move now. He had almost forgotten about the King of Hell and the Hell Legion entirely; all this time, Yu Wen had been holding it back, never letting it go! "Old Yu, old Yu, you're getting crazier with age—this is like forcing a duck to climb a tree!"

Zhang Su had no choice. The name was already out there; even if he wiped out every last survivor from the Survivor Alliance and the Apocalypse Group, the news of the Hell Legion would spread. Not to mention elsewhere—Qincheng would definitely know that on Tianma Isle there was a Hell Legion, led by the King of Hell…

From this day forward, whether he liked it or not, he was the King of Hell.

Yu Wen sat inside the vehicle. After repeatedly shouting without any response, he was about to speak again to urge surrender, when finally someone from the other side answered.

"I'm Wu Baokang, Captain of the Survivor Alliance's Elite Guard. Today, my men and I came here intending to visit the King of Hell on Tianma Isle. Since it was already dark, we stopped in town to rest and planned to set out at dawn. We don't know your group's rules—please clarify them, so there won't be any misunderstandings!"

Wu Baokang's deep, resonant voice cut through the silence. He had no intention of being killed like those three from the Little Eagle Gang—without reason.

For some reason, when Yu Wen said "King of Hell," Zhang Su thought it sounded absurdly cheesy. But now, hearing it shouted by the enemy, it actually carried a certain aura of power.

"Our rules are simple: lay down all your weapons, and then we can talk properly. Please abide by our rules."

Yu Wen's tone wasn't harsh—but paired with the row of vehicles, the dark muzzles of guns, and the blinding lights, it came across as utterly intimidating.

Yet even so, the Survivor Alliance and the other two factions weren't amateurs. They knew handing over weapons meant surrendering their lives entirely—no different from kneeling to be executed.

"Friends of the Hell Legion, your demand is too extreme. We're afraid we can't agree. Why not send representatives to negotiate? I'm certain the process will go very smoothly!"

As Wu Baokang replied to Yu Wen, the three factions were also exchanging urgent signals among themselves.

The three factions split into two camps: the Survivor Alliance and the Civilization Protectors would rather die standing than live kneeling; the Apocalypse Group's stance was crystal clear: as long as the green hills remain, firewood will never run out—surrender immediately to stay safe…

While the three factions argued without resolution, the outside fell silent—as if the other side was considering something. This suited the Survivor Alliance and the others perfectly: the longer they delayed, the better their chance to devise an effective solution.

Unfortunately, time was not on their side. Just about a minute later, the loudspeaker blared again.

"Sorry, but the Hell Legion has no room for negotiation. Do you want to spray our vehicles with bullets? Don't even think about fighting to the death—that's pure fantasy! Fish die easily, but the net never breaks. Don't believe me? Just watch!"

Yu Wen's voice remained as calm as ever. If you were to name the top emotional control masters on Tianma Isle, he was first, followed closely by Ju Wuying, who had only recently joined the camp.

Yet behind that calm voice lay a thunderclap. The moment he finished saying "watch," five buildings south of the Survivor Alliance's position, a deafening explosion ripped through the night—concrete and rebar collapsed with a violent crash, the sound especially shocking in the darkness.

Only the echoing aftermath of the blast and the rumbling collapse of the building remained.

"This entire street is laced with explosives. We can make any shop blow up whenever we want. Do you want to test the Hell Legion's explosives with your flesh and blood?"

Yu Wen timed his words perfectly—the moment the explosion's rumble faded, his voice rang out, seamless and precise.

The scene fell utterly silent. Only a faint breeze swept through the town, stirring dust, and the quiet hum of idling engines.

"How could there be explosives? Tianma Isle is seven or eight kilometers away—how could they plant bombs here…?"

The Survivor Alliance members immediately voiced their disbelief.

In their understanding, seven or eight kilometers meant crossing the entire Qincheng urban area—who could reach that far? But they hadn't considered the actual conditions beyond the northern suburbs: from the Haihe Bridge in the south to Qingxian and even farther north, Tianma Isle's people had left their mark everywhere…

"Have you found the bombs?"

"No way. Probably C4—mixed into the walls, how do you even look for it…?"

The Civilization Protectors reacted differently from the Survivor Alliance—they tried to locate the bombs, hoping to disarm them. The Apocalypse Group members were stunned—five faces turned deathly pale.

Not only were the fifteen people hiding in the shops terrified, their faces twisted by the explosion—the Tianma Isle group also exchanged stunned glances.

"My god, when did we plant so many bombs in Beidong Town?"

"Must've been Su Ge's masterstroke… planting bombs isn't hard, but where the hell did we get this many explosives?"

"This street has a hundred shops—how many bombs did Qing Jie make? Do we even have enough materials in camp?"

Enough?

If you didn't count the Shengtian Original Plasma in Zhang Su's arms, it was definitely not enough…

But lying costs nothing.

Only Yu Wen and Yu Qing, sitting in the same vehicle, knew the truth.

While the fifteen members of the Survivor Alliance urgently discussed their strategy, Yu Wen was communicating with Zhang Su via radio—and right then, the explosion happened! "We'll surrender our weapons, brothers of the Hell Legion! Please don't act rashly—we're all friends, all human beings, none of us are enemies!"

After a moment of silence, a new voice rang out from another shop, trembling with panic.

Words alone couldn't make desperate survivors in the apocalypse lay down their arms—they needed force, they needed proof. Five figures stepped into view at the windows, lined up side by side—the Apocalypse Group members.

All five raised their hands high, leaning half their bodies out the windows to clearly show they were unarmed. At the same time, they turned their heads toward the direction of the explosion…

The sight made their hearts race faster—the collapsed storefront was unrecognizable. Bricks had been flung onto the curb, scattered five or six meters away. They could imagine what their own bodies would look like after being blown apart—reduced to human puzzles. The Apocalypse Group didn't know where the bombs were hidden, couldn't sort through the chaos, and dared not doubt whether the threat was real—that would be playing with their lives. The other side had already given them enough time and chances—they had to seize the moment! Aaah, aow.

As the Apocalypse Group surrendered, moans of zombies echoed from the street entrance. Not many—seven or eight hazy black shadows twisted through the night, inching toward the convoy. No one knew where they'd been hiding, or whether they'd been drawn by the vehicle's horn or the explosion.

Tap, tap, tap…

A window on one vehicle burst into flame. Each shot rang out, and a zombie dropped. The precision, the rhythm—utterly flawless—left the five who had surrendered and the ten still hesitating in awe. Among them, three were especially sensitive: Wu Baokang, Wu Daqiang, and Xiao Tiao.

As Captain of the Elite Guard, Wu Baokang was formidable in every way. His unusual past had made him exceptionally skilled with firearms, though he rarely showed it within the Alliance—only a handful knew his true ability.

Amateurs saw spectacle; experts saw skill. At over a hundred meters, in pitch darkness, lit only by flashlight beams, hitting every head with a rifle's single shots—what level was that?

A dead-eye marksman.

Bombs that exploded on command, a marksman who never missed, and a King of Hell who could silently eliminate the Little Eagle Gang's three men—what else could these people pull off? Wu Baokang thought of their title, "Hell Legion," and his blood ran cold—he felt as if he'd stepped into the gates of hell.

(End of Chapter)