Chapter 460: Everyone Is a Living Hero

"Mm, keep it well-maintained—tanks are the backbone of zombie battles; just look at what's happened here!"

Zhang Su was thoroughly satisfied with the Civil Defense's combat readiness. As they spoke, the tank's battle drew to a close, exactly as Zhang Su had expected: the tank's crushing power was nearly invincible, but it couldn't eliminate every last zombie unless it had unlimited diesel to burn.

Considering fuel constraints, Zhang Su ordered Pan Guoliang to stand down; scattered zombies still needed to be finished off by hand, but that was no longer difficult.

While nearly everyone was busy clearing zombies, Zhang Su was discussing something extremely important with Ma Changshou: could they slaughter a pig?

According to what he knew, several days ago a sow had given birth to a litter of piglets—Zhong Xiaoshan had mentioned it offhand, saying there were nine in total, but one had died shortly after birth…

The old sow had fulfilled her purpose in giving birth; now she had a new one.

"There is one sow that gave birth to a litter, but… it's only been a week and change. If possible, the piglets should wait two weeks before weaning."

Ma Changshou looked troubled; as a non-professional postpartum pig caretaker, he at least knew piglets should ideally be weaned at three to four weeks, when their digestive systems were more developed and better able to handle solid food.

He didn't pity the old sow—there was no boar available, so she could no longer produce value, and keeping her alive was just wasting food. It was a cruel reality, but people were suffering enough already; who had time to empathize with a pig?

Zhang Su's expression was equally strained. With such a grand occasion, as host, he knew everyone had already decided to join Tianma Yu—in other words, these were all new members—and with such a triumphant victory, if he didn't serve something decent, he'd feel ashamed, regardless of whether others cared.

If people later spoke of the "Yanluo Wang of Tianma Yu" and thought him stingy and cheap, that would be terrible—even though he truly was stingy, it depended on the occasion! "But…"

Seeing Zhang Su's conflicted expression, Ma Changshou knew the old sow was doomed. He took off his cap and scratched his head. "There's another sow close to farrowing—maybe we can feed her better afterward so she can keep producing milk."

Snap.

Zhang Su snapped his fingers, slapped Ma Changshou's arm, and said: "Go, get Zhu Zhu right away—kill the pig now, and tell the sisters over there cleaning up the corpses to start cooking pork with vermicelli!"

"Yes, yes, got it!"

Ma Changshou's face lit up like a blooming chrysanthemum. Now that he'd figured out how to feed the piglets, he was no longer worried. He turned to call Zhao Dezhhu, but Zhang Su grabbed him again.

"Too many people— one pig won't be enough. Add more potatoes; we've got plenty of those. Yes, and lots of vermicelli too—don't hold back!"

"Understood, understood, hehe, Boss Zhang, rest assured—everyone will eat their fill!"

Ma Changshou bounced off to find Zhao Dezhhu, mentally calculating the old sow weighed about three hundred jin, yielding roughly one hundred and eighty jin of meat—about one jin per person, plus potatoes and vermicelli—a feast! When Zhao Dezhhu heard they were slaughtering a pig, he shouted a few things at Zhang Su, hopped in his vehicle, and drove off with Ma Changshou.

Many present had seen the Yanluo Wang chatting with an old man, wondering what they were discussing, but had no time to ponder it— they returned to clearing the battlefield.

Soon, the scene was cleaned: no standing zombies remained, nor even crawling cripples—all were exterminated. Bodies weren't stacked; they lay haphazardly across the open field.

"Brothers and sisters!"

Zhang Su stood atop the tank commander's hatch, a loudspeaker clipped to his waist by Yu Wen, a microphone in hand.

"Conspiracy brought us together, misunderstandings bound us. Today, facing a wave of tens of thousands of zombies, we fought to the end—not a single one of us was bitten. This is a monumental victory for humanity! Thanks to the grape bombs deployed, countless zombies were obliterated; the exact total zombie count is unverifiable… but we can confidently say it was over twenty-five thousand. Let's be generous—call it thirty thousand! I believe, even globally, this is a proud achievement. Every single one of you here, and everyone behind us cleaning up the corpses—you are all heroes. Living heroes!"

The people standing in the barren fields looked worn and dusty, but their spirits were high. They tilted their heads upward, gazing at the man on the tank, stirred by his impassioned speech.

This excitement wasn't hollow—everyone here had been there, had lived it. You don't take pride in things you didn't experience, but since you did, you have every right to be proud.

Whether it was twenty-five thousand or thirty thousand—who cared? In the days ahead, the story might grow to eighty or a hundred thousand. Exaggeration was a necessary tool of propaganda!

"Hero! Hero!"

Everyone raised their arms in unison, shouting loudly. The sound echoed across the field—the first time since the disaster that voices had rung out so freely. Always fearing discovery by zombies, now they shouted without restraint, even if it tore their throats—because they were exhilarated, and because no zombies remained nearby to hear them.

Why dare shout? Because they weren't afraid! Zhang Su's heart raced too. Tianma Yu had won many battles before, but never one so utterly triumphant. Yet he couldn't simply revel like the others—he lowered his hand, signaling silence.

"Victory is great, but our survival conditions remain dire. Qincheng has over a million zombies. Today we eliminated only a small portion—but an undeniable one. We must repeat such victories until our survival is secure."

"What is security?"

Zhang Su asked and answered himself.

"When you lie with your beloved at night, you don't have to worry that an emergency call will ruin the mood. When you eat a delicious meal, you don't have to fear a zombie horde storming the camp and spoiling your appetite. When you lie in bed, enjoying quiet sleep, you don't have to dread the alarm suddenly blaring and shattering your dreams. If such a moment ever comes, I hope you don't sleep naked…"

His fiery speech ended with a small joke. Dust-covered faces broke into knowing smiles. Three things—appetite, lust, and the need for sleep. Simple, ordinary scenes, yet the most relatable.

How many times had they slept fully clothed, clutching weapons, jolted awake by the slightest sound, heart and mind under crushing pressure?

How many times had they gnawed on cold bread, still fearing zombies might suddenly emerge from nowhere to ambush them?

How many times had the chance to satisfy basic needs been rare and rushed—no slow foreplay, no gradual build-up, no intense climax, no gentle ebb…

These people were among the better-treated fighters in the faction. If they suffered like this, imagine what life was like for the truly downtrodden. That's why they envied Tianma Yu's living conditions so deeply.

Zhang Su felt the moment was right. He clipped the microphone to his collar and opened his arms toward the crowd: "For our tomorrow, for a better future, for a life of security—welcome to Tianma Yu! I, the Yanluo Wang, welcome every sincere brother and sister!"

"Yanluo Wang!"

Zhang Xin, the king of hype, immediately jumped in, raising his arms and shouting: "Yanluo Wang! Yanluo Wang!"

"Yanluo Wang…"

The moment passed quickly—everyone joined in, chanting Zhang Su's title.

From this moment on, the name Yanluo Wang would ride the biting wind, spreading farther, reaching more ears.

(End of Chapter)