Chapter 510: When the Nest Is Overturned, No Egg Remains Whole

Scattered zombies caused no real shock—psychologically or physically, they were still bearable—but facing hundreds, even thousands of zombies charging en masse, the sheer terror was chilling!

"Retract your guns! Close-quarters combat!"

Wu Baokang hurled his rifle behind him, snatched a nearby makeshift counter with lightning speed, and slammed it down in front of him as a shield, preparing to face the enemy.

The battle erupted instantly; there was no place to flee. Once hand-to-hand combat began, firearms became virtually useless.

"We should defend—we should have defended…"

Yu Wen murmured at the scene before him, then shouted loudly: "Fall back to the stairwell! Now!"

As the saying goes, one man can hold the pass against ten thousand. Against this furious horde, the priority was to shatter their momentum. Enhanced zombies were terrifyingly strong; ordinary obstacles couldn't stop them—but narrow stairwells could. No matter how many zombies came, if they could only face three or five at a time, the crisis might still be resolved! "No! Teacher Yu, there's no retreat—the way behind is blocked!"

Lu Yubo turned back and saw a crowd packed tightly behind him, zombies skirting the walls attacking the people—chaos everywhere.

If he were alone, rushing back would be no problem—but the front line was already locked in combat with the massive horde, while flanks and rear were also being harassed. If he forcibly dragged the people behind him into the stairwell, their defensive formation would instantly shatter, and trampling would be inevitable! Unless everyone moved in perfect unison—but there were multiple factions present, none of whom could coordinate. If they split up, they'd be crushed.

The retreat was gone. Only death or victory remained.

Yu Wen wasn't short; standing among the crowd, he could still see far ahead. The bright searchlights didn't reach the distant entrance, but faint diffracted light allowed him to estimate the horde's size.

When that dark, overwhelming mass filled his vision, he shrank back into the crowd, frantically pulling out his walkie-talkie from his chest. He knew clearly: the crisis facing LeGou Mall was beyond their capacity to handle—any misstep and they'd all be wiped out here! Puff—crack…

But as Yu Wen pulled the walkie-talkie from his waist pouch, someone bumped into him—it slipped from his grip and fell to the ground, then was kicked away by an unknown foot. The scene was pure chaos.

"Walkie-talkie! Oh no, quick—does anyone else have a walkie-talkie?!"

Yu Wen's heart turned cold, as if his last lifeline had been snatched away.

Hearing Yu Wen's cry, Liu Tianji and the others exchanged glances. They'd rushed down in a panic to kill zombies, focused only on grabbing weapons—completely forgotten their bags upstairs.

"Didn't bring one…"

"Me neither…"

Fortunately, the team's Moqi compensated for their oversight. Tan Huajun, who'd been sniping from the fourth floor, saw a massive horde flooding into the mall. She immediately stopped firing, pulled out her walkie-talkie from her pocket, and pressed the transmit button: "Su Ge, Su Ge, LeGou Mall under zombie assault—critical situation, repeating…"

After sending the message, Tan Huajun set the walkie-talkie aside and raised her rifle again. Every zombie she eliminated gave her comrades another sliver of hope—and brought them closer to breaking the crisis! "Can't rely on Su Ge for everything. Protect Teacher Yu—I'm going to kill zombies. They're about to break!"

Lu Yubo felt his blood boil. He knew he shouldn't retreat into the crowd—he should charge to the outermost line. He slapped Liu Tianji and Jia Shiqin on the shoulders, grabbed his food sampling device, and roared as he charged forward.

Aowu!

"Fuck you!"

"I'll chop you down! Chop you down!"

Zombie howls and combatants' roars intertwined. Fortunately, the front-line fighters were highly skilled—they held firm against the first wave. Though perilous, no one suffered fatal wounds yet.

A dozen zombies had been felled in the initial clash. In past situations, this would've granted a moment's respite—the following zombies would've been blocked by the corpses. But today was different: the second wave came without pause.

The zombies behind leapt directly over their fallen kin, their grotesque faces looming mid-air, jaws wide, eyes fixed downward. The survivors below stared up in disbelief—something no one had anticipated happened.

Bang! Accustomed to fighting zombies at ground level, several fighters froze at the sudden vertical assault—four or five were immediately knocked down.

"Ahh! Help! Fuck you motherfucker!"

Zhang Xin lay on the ground, flailing wildly with fists and kicks. Before he could even process what was happening, his collar was yanked from behind—he barely escaped death. He turned to see Lu Yubo.

"Ahh… save me."

"Get off! Ugh—ahhh…"

But not every fallen fighter was as lucky as Zhang Xin. Two others had no time to react—zombies had already clamped their jaws onto their cheeks. Even as others struck desperately, it was useless. Starving zombies didn't care—they'd bite even if it meant dying. One bite was worth it!

"Watch yourself, you idiot!"

Lu Yubo took a deep breath, tossed Zhang Xin aside, and charged back into the fray. Every second he paused, the others bore heavier pressure. As the current frontline pillar, he had no time to rest.

"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck—"

Wu Baokang wielded dual weapons like a berserker, even using his legs—but still, he helplessly watched comrades being torn apart. In this chaotic battle, he wasn't powerful enough to turn the tide.

Instead of despairing or strategizing, Wu Baokang's mind flashed with Zhang Su's image. What would Zhang Su do here? Could he save these useless fools from the zombies?

Aowu!

A moment of distraction—his abdomen was slammed hard. Wu Baokang snapped back to reality: two zombies crashed into his makeshift barrier, jaws gaping inches from his face!

His heart sank. He slammed his elbow into one zombie—but the other's mouth was already wide open, jagged teeth clearly visible. Unless something changed, his upper chest would be bitten.

He instinctively raised his arm to block—his only thought: if my forearm gets bitten, I can still survive…

Thud! At that moment, the zombie he'd just shoved upward collapsed as well.

"Don't fucking zone out!"

Wu Daqiang's face was streaked with blood, his expression grim. He'd fallen earlier—some shard had sliced his cheek.

"Grab anything! Quickly—move chairs, counters—use them as shields!"

Seeing Wu Baokang's makeshift barrier work, Wu Daqiang urgently urged others to use nearby debris—chairs, counters, anything—to ease the pressure.

Many agreed it was brilliant. They dragged counters, water barriers, and even picked up discarded display stands.

Didn't matter what it was—as long as it helped. Better than getting overrun outright.

Wu Baokang either went deaf or lost his mind. He looked at his fallen comrades, then at the endless zombies, then at his exhausted allies. He screamed aloud. While others scrambled for shields, he abandoned his broken counter and charged out.

"Teacher Yu, we can't hold! Get upstairs—you can't die here!"

Zhang Ya swung her hiking pole, holding a wheeled barrier with her other hand. A zombie had latched onto her palm, gnawing—but strangely, no blood flowed…

She had one extra piece of gear the others didn't: her petrified zombie-skin armor was too bulky, so she'd had fabric cut and sewn into a hideous glove. Thanks to its extreme defense, she could perform actions others couldn't.

Though a woman among men, her combat strength surpassed the average—this was the Yanluo Corps' standard.

"Old Yu, I'll clear you a path—run!"

Jia Shiqin shouted to Yu Wen, then shouldered two zombies aside, thrusting his steel rod forward. His down jacket was shredded by zombie claws—now he barely defended, only attacked.

"No, Master Jia, don't rush! If I run, it won't help!"

Yu Wen raised his steel rod high and stabbed a zombie, then grabbed Jia Shiqin, shouting: "When the nest is overturned, no egg remains whole!" "Fuck, where did all these zombies come from?! I don't want to die!"

Liu Tianji fought while screaming wildly. There were no zombies nearby—were they falling from the sky?!

His combat strength ranked low-mid in the Yanluo Corps; he was more technically inclined, assigned to LeGou Mall to study communication network setup—never expecting a furious zombie swarm assault.

"Boss, we can't hold! Too many zombies—what do we do?!"

Dadao fiercely protected Li Zongkai. For now, he was fine—but his stamina was draining fast. High-intensity combat couldn't last long. From observation, zombie numbers vastly outnumbered humans.

Zombies were dying, but so were we. For every comrade lost, we killed over ten zombies—it seemed we had the upper hand. But that math was wrong.

Human combat pressure would only grow—until all of them collapsed…

As time passed, the crowd had condensed from a fan shape into a tight ball, just twenty meters from the safety exit. If they could unite and tear open a gap, then rush into the stairwell, there might still be hope.

To achieve this, they needed unity—and someone had to sacrifice their life.

"Kill! Charge the stairwell! Once inside, we live!" Wu Baokang saw the situation—but executing it was agonizing.

Zombies weren't human—they had no thought—but they possessed fearless combat instinct. They gave survivors not a single opening. Faced with the survivors' bloody fury, they grew even more frenzied.

"Ahh, ah, aaaa…"

Someone's arm was bitten. Thick clothing offered some protection—but after tearing, defense collapsed. The arm was bloody pulp, yet still swung the weapon wildly!

Immediate treatment could still save them—but reality didn't allow it. Knowing death was certain, only fighting to the last moment felt right.

Even if dying, die with honor!

"We can't go back—we can't go back!"

Some, overcome with despair, screamed as they fought, turning their hopelessness into rage, trying to carve out a sliver of survival.

"You dead things—come on! Bite me!"

"I'll smash you! I'll smash you, bitch!"

"Fuck you, look at me, hey!"

Upstairs, Tan Huajun wasn't the only one shooting from the fourth floor—second and third floors began hurling anything down: folding chairs, pillows, water cups…

The most impressive was someone who'd found a ladder. Two people swung it like a giant paddle, smashing zombies on the first floor!

Regular members couldn't fight on the front line—but they wanted to help, trying to distract zombies and ease pressure on fighters.

It worked somewhat. Zombies behind paused, looking up at the falling debris, confused, not dodging. But soon, they realized the upper floors were unreachable—only forward meant food. The ladder distracted about a dozen zombies—a decent result.

Brief pauses did ease pressure—but not nearly enough.

"Why… why is this happening…"

"Is there any way to stop them?!"

"I don't want to die…"

A bleak atmosphere spread among the civilians. Many sat on the ground and wept—they could already foresee their grim fate: when fighters fell, zombies would flood upstairs and devour them all.

Maybe one or two would hide and survive—but would it be them? No one knew…

"We should pick up weapons!"

"Yes—we must prepare to fight…"

"If the guys downstairs die, we're the last line—we can't just wait to die!"

"Where are the weapons?!"

The civilians finally grasped the severity. Previously, they had comfortably hidden behind the fighters, performing logistical work in exchange for safety.

But now, when fighters could no longer hold, every single one of them faced utter despair.

And when they realized the danger, it was often too late to resist. Like now—they wanted weapons to fight, but where were they? Liao Youzhi's camp philosophy differed greatly from Zhang Su's. Zhang Su wanted everyone armed. Liao Youzhi refused to let civilians handle weapons—he feared rebellion more than zombies.

So when the elderly, women, and children searched for weapons to fight zombies, they found nothing usable: broom handles, table legs, big iron pots… useless against frenzied zombies—like eggs against stones.

"It's over. We're going to die here."

Liu Tianji's heart pounded. Tears mixed with sweat. The intense combat left his arms numb—this meant he couldn't last much longer. His hormones were spent, as if whispering: I've done all I can. Now, rely on willpower.

"It's my fault—I was careless. Should've held the upper floors. Lacked experience…"

Yu Wen was disheveled, his elegant down jacket torn to shreds—but it didn't matter. The real protection came from his petrified zombie-skin armor. Without it, he'd have died five times over.

"Teacher Yu, don't talk. No one expected this."

Zhang Ya's hands never stopped moving, but the flame of hope in her heart gradually dimmed.

"I don't believe it, I don't believe it, Laozi won't die, he definitely won't die!"

Lu Yu Bo had stopped fighting alongside Wu Baokang and the others; he returned to the side of his brothers in the Yama Legion, and in this final moment, he felt that comrades he had long served with were more reliable—or perhaps, even in death, he wished to die beside those he knew.

"Old Yu, I'm afraid we're going to die here today…"

Li Zongkai gasped for breath, his heart filled with bitter frustration. His and Yu Wen's strengths lay in managing the camp, coordinating personnel, and handling administrative tasks—they were skilled at those, but had little experience fighting zombies. If they hadn't been so impassioned at the start, leading the charge down, and had instead just huddled at the emergency exit, luring zombies in for slaughter, they wouldn't have ended up in this mess! "Not until the very end, no one is allowed to give up! Kill, kill until you die!"

Wu Baokang's throat was hoarse; as the team's sharp blade, he could clearly feel his companions growing weaker—human strength has its limits.

He never expected to face this calamity. Had he known, he'd have followed the Yama King to visit the Little Eagle Society and the Weather Group instead—but now he was trapped, and only bloody battle remained.

Wu Daqiang still fought fiercely; years of military life had made his body far superior to an ordinary person's, yet the endless tide of enemies pushed him to his physical limit. His mind was locked in razor focus, clinging to a single breath as he entered a state of self-forgetful combat—once that breath slipped, he would die on the spot, sustained only by raw instinct.

Zhang Xin was gasping like a bellows; he felt that even if someone now told him citizens in the city were buying watermelons at eight kuai per jin, or that a melon field three hundred li away sold them for three mao per jin, he had no strength left to go buy any. If not for the screams around him, he would have collapsed right then.

"Ah, Old Qiu, don't—ah, let me end you!"

Suddenly, one man in the crowd turned into a zombie, sparking a small commotion; those nearby, upon realizing, drove a blade straight into his eye socket, swiftly ending their comrade's life—not out of cruelty, but out of final mercy.

The corpse was carelessly tossed aside; no one had time for mourning or sorrow, for the threat before them showed no sign of easing—the zombies swarmed all around, packed so tightly not a breath could escape, as if they could never be slain…

(End of Chapter)