Chapter 459: Ants Challenging a Tree

The first wave of combat ended quickly; no one counted how many zombies there were—perhaps a thousand, perhaps two thousand—but the fighting was over in no time, with each person killing about fifteen zombies, nothing difficult.

Where there are people, there is competition, even in a war of species; during the brief pause, people inspected the piles of zombie corpses stacked along the field ridges, and the disparity between camps became instantly clear.

The Yanluo Legion of Tianmayu's kill count didn't need comparison—their mound of corpses was too dazzling.

Second place went to Civilization Guard, surprising many; even counting the eight who had left earlier, Civilization Guard numbered only twenty-six, six fewer than the Survivors' Alliance's fighters, yet the size of their corpse pile made it nearly impossible to tell who had done better—when factoring in numbers, Civilization Guard's combat strength ranking second was unquestionable.

Right behind them came the Survivors' Alliance, then the Little Eagle Society; both Little Eagle Society and the Apocalypse Group had twenty-one members, but Little Eagle Society had killed far more zombies—clearly at least three times as many! "Damn it, you can't judge combat power just by corpse count—we… you guys got wiped out by zombies, left us Apocalypse Group so few to kill!"

Yang Xin, seeing everyone staring with varying degrees of disdain at the scattered twenty or thirty zombie corpses behind the Apocalypse Group, frantically explained.

This time, the Apocalypse Group couldn't be blamed; as Yang Xin said, Little Eagle Society and the Apocalypse Group were neighbors, and Liu Yao led his men like rabid dogs, "snatching food"—they were the only group to charge past the barricades and rush into killing zombies.

Competition was inevitable; everyone knew joining Tianmayu was all but settled, so competition had begun—how to stand out among so many? First, you had to show your strength; in the apocalypse, there was no room for pretense; flattery might help, but not much—only strength could speak! Zhang Su smiled and waved his hand, about to say something to prevent Little Eagle Society from rushing to prove themselves and causing trouble, when Wu Lue's voice crackled again through the radio.

"Brother Su, another grape's been shoved in!"

"No big fireworks this time—everyone, watch for immediate danger!"

Zhang Su warned everyone to prepare for the second wave of zombies charging the highway, then pressed the remote.

Yet no one could resist glancing north, as if a breathtaking striptease dancer were performing there—unfortunately, the distance was too great and visibility too poor to see anything.

The purple bubble was invisible; seconds later, a thunderous explosion confirmed the detonation—Divine Punishment Flame showed its power again, followed by a shockwave of sand, grass, and dirt.

Just as dust billowed, the second wave of zombies reached the highway.

Even more frenzied than the first wave; if the previous meat grinder had been on low speed, this was now on medium—competition was laid bare; had the Yanluo Legion not been beside them, the old rivals Little Eagle Society and the Apocalypse Group would've started sabotaging each other.

The first group, Group One, had been scattered for various reasons, reducing the threat of the disorganized horde; the battle lasted about half an hour before ending, with one-third of that time spent waiting.

The scene was finally clean, leaving only heavy breathing.

No standing or wandering zombies were visible across the distant fields, but some crawled along the ridges—strange and horrifying.

Zhang Su sent five men into the wasteland to put them out of their misery; other factions, quick to read the situation, also dispatched their own teams.

"Brother Su, the northern horde's been stunned by the blast—zombies are scattered and won't regroup; there are still five or six thousand—what do we do?"

Wu Lue used a drone to scout the situation from above.

They couldn't let the horde wander within three kilometers of camp; Zhang Su immediately ordered: "Lue, use the drone to herd the zombies; Lao Pan, prepare to move out!"

The nearly half-hour battle had released everyone's pent-up rage; if unnecessary, other methods could handle the zombies—the ever-ready 99 Heavy Tank was the perfect choice.

"Understood!"

Inside the tank, Pan Guoliang lazily propped his legs on the dashboard, bouncing them up and down; he could hear the distant shouts and fighting—this nearly flawless extermination was the best chance to show off male prowess, but he'd missed it.

Fortunately, another chance awaited him.

Rumbling…

The tank's fuel tank had been kept warm; it started easily. The barrel rotated fifty degrees, stretching its "muscles," emitting mechanical sounds—the only other sound besides female screams that thrilled men.

After showing off, Pan Guoliang aimed north and drove off, slowly—he still needed to give Wu Lue time to herd the zombies.

"Feel like following along to watch?"

Zhang Su leaned against his vehicle, smoking; as the tank started, he called out loudly to the group. "Yes! Absolutely!"

"Tank crushing zombies—just thinking about it is thrilling!"

"Brother Su, let's go watch!"

The suggestion instantly won overwhelming support, though some female members hesitated.

Being forced into extermination and enjoying slaughter were two different things; their genes carried fewer violence-related base pairs than men's, so many requested to stay behind and clean the battlefield.

Zhang Su led the group north not just to watch the tank crush zombies, but also to finish off stragglers.

At the outbreak of the disaster, ninety percent of people had fantasized about armies crushing zombies under tanks—but they waited four long months; now, that fantasy had finally come true, though the tank wasn't driven by soldiers, but by survivors like themselves.

When Pan Guoliang's tank met the northern horde, Wu Lue hadn't finished herding them; the tank's roar was a natural magnet—zombies unable to reach the sky's loudspeaker now lunged at the tank.

As the fifty-ton behemoth plowed into the zombies, the unstoppable force thrilled onlookers, as if all the rage and hatred they'd held inside for months were buried with the zombies crushed beneath the treads! At that moment, the image of "ants challenging a tree" became vividly real to everyone.

"This way's easier to burn—no need to dismember…"

Chen Hanzhou muttered with a strange expression; he often handled zombie dismemberment—initially found it interesting, later grew bored, treating it as part of his physical training.

"Incredible! With modern weapons like this, the zombie crisis is solved!"

Li Zongkai walked up to Zhang Su, unable to suppress his awe.

"Definitely no problem against regular zombies, but against mutated ones, we can't be sure—and there's another scenario you haven't encountered…"

Zhang Su recalled the night the Qinglong Corps was wiped out by zombies; seeing Li Zongkai's eager expression, he said:

"Earlier, a northern faction developed a method to modify zombies—they created a thing called Zero-Zero-Four, three or four meters tall, leaping effortlessly ten to twenty meters in a single bound, swatting away ten or more zombies with one hand, monstrously strong; if armed, it might even pry open a metal can!"

Not to mention Zero-Zero-Four—Zhang Su felt Zero-Zero-Three, if enraged, could also severely damage a tank; luckily, Zero-Zero-Three was relatively clumsy and couldn't catch up to a tank.

Li Zongkai gasped, quickly asking: "So what happened to that modified zombie?"

"It caught fire during battle, went berserk—we don't know what happened to it afterward, but it was probably burned to death; besides fire, few weapons could harm it!"

Zhang Su shook his head slightly; Zero-Zero-Four was the only zombie since the disaster that had made him shudder—and it was man-made!

"Brother Zhang, the purple bubble can definitely kill it!"

Jia Shiqin, overhearing Zhang Su and Li Zongkai's conversation, couldn't help chiming in.

Li Zongkai's furrowed brow relaxed slightly at Jia's words, smiling: "Yes, that kind of explosion was the real heavy weapon."

"But the Ascended Primordial Slurry isn't standard weaponry, Lao Li—what's the situation with your camp's tanks?"

Zhang Su asked about the military base.

"We have two—both Type 15 light tanks; one's in good condition, the other's engine is broken…"

Li Zongkai leaned close to Zhang Su's ear and whispered—he was used to speaking secrets quietly.

The Type 15 light tank had a short service life, only a few years, but its service proved its performance met standards; though called "light," that was only relative to the 99 Heavy Tank—in combat, the Type 15 still weighed over thirty tons, equivalent to twenty ordinary sedans! (End of Chapter)