Chapter 549: Who Else? (Special Chapter, Requesting Subscriptions!)

"Impossible! This can't be!"

Suddenly, someone in the audience shouted loudly.

Dog Brother frowned at the shouter—a thin young man, his brow radiating earnestness and honesty.

He vaguely recognized the guy; during the arrest, this fellow had offered no resistance, cooperated fully, and thus escaped any harassment. Dog Brother had even thought earlier that such a compliant fellow could be made a minor overseer among the captives.

"Shut the fuck up, what the hell do you want?"

Thud! "Ugh…"

One of the BaJiazi villagers stepped forward and punched the shouting youth in the stomach, making his eyes bulge outward.

"Wait a sec!" Dog Brother replied to the guard Xiao Chong, then turned to the shouter: "Hey, what did you just say was impossible?"

"I said outsiders can't possibly be Survivors' Alliance members!"

At these words, not only Dog Brother of BaJiazi Village was puzzled, but even the Civilization Protectors were confused.

This man had low visibility during the hostage incident and had always been invisible in the camp—long assigned to night patrols, so few saw him during the day. Many didn't even know him well.

"What do you know? Speak!"

Dog Brother barked sharply.

Guan Senmiao glanced left and right, hesitant: "I—I can tell you, but you must promise me one thing!"

"Fuck, now you're making demands? Kill him!"

Dog Brother shot Guan Senmiao a disgusted look, thinking: this idiot's got a screw loose.

"No no no…"

Seeing the situation turn dangerous, Guan Senmiao dashed forward, yelling: "I'm a mole! I'm a mole for the Survivors' Alliance! Don't kill me!"

"Real or fake…"

"This… can't be? He's a mole?"

"Fuck!"

Before BaJiazi Village's men could react, the Civilization Protectors exploded in chaos.

No one had expected Guan Senmiao, someone with zero presence, to be a mole—this revelation was devastating.

Was this just a lie to save his life? Xiao Chong at the gate had no idea of the dramatic turn inside the hall.

"What the hell is going on…"

Beside the guard post, Xiao Chong angrily shook his walkie-talkie. It was freezing outside, and doing his job was dragging on—bad luck, he'd lost the draw and got stuck on sentry duty.

"He told you to wait."

A cold voice came from behind.

"Huh?"

Xiao Chong felt a chill of terror—the voice was right behind him. Before he could turn, a heavy blow struck the back of his neck—real, crushing force. He never even cried out; two streams of bright red blood flowed from his nostrils, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed lifelessly to the ground—all smooth, silent.

Zhang Su used nearly all his strength, leaving no reserve; the blow cracked his own palm bone—he could imagine the condition of the other man.

"Damn, dumbass with a hard skull…"

Zhang Su shook his hand, bent down to pick up the walkie-talkie, stood up, and peered into the barracks. Bare branches, desolate and silent—not a single figure in sight.

Just as he was about to criticize BaJiazi Village's lack of vigilance, a shadow staggered out from the nearest building, smoking a cigarette, looking relaxed and carefree—clearly just finished his business.

"Fuck… someone actually went to the toilet!"

Zhang Su's heart tightened; he quickly dragged Xiao Chong's corpse behind the guard post and hid himself.

Not because he feared danger—he feared alerting the Civilization Protectors and endangering the hostages. Whether for the challenge mission or the camp's future, he didn't want any Civilization Protectors to die.

"The city's so comfortable—even the toilet's got heating! No more freezing balls when taking a shit!"

The voice arrived before the man did—hoarse and dry.

"It's freezing out here—who the hell would come? You're… ah—ugh… uh…"

The middle-aged man, around fifty, hadn't finished speaking when, as he neared the guard post, a flash of cold steel slashed from the side. Before he could make out whether it was man or ghost, he only had time to stop in his tracks—then felt heat on his neck. Fortunately, he'd stopped walking; his head stayed on his shoulders—but that was also a curse, for now he'd endure prolonged agony instead of a quick death.

Blood spurted; he frantically tried to clamp his hands over his neck, his dead-fish eyes bulging as he glared at the man with the knife, as if trying to drag his image into hell—but he didn't know this man was the King of Hell himself.

He held on for less than twenty seconds, staggered back two steps, fell backward, and died.

Zhang Su searched the body—besides a gun, only trivial personal items like cigarettes and a lighter. Nothing valuable.

"Should be safe now?"

He looked again into the barracks—nothing visible! He hurried to the gate. The electric sliding door had long been removed; now two old iron gates stood, somehow retrieved by Li Zongkai and the others—likely the original gates, perfectly matched. A heavy padlock hung on it, with two horizontal bars inserted. Even a small car would struggle to break through.

"Boss?"

Lu Yu spotted Zhang Su at the gate and called out happily.

"Go tell everyone to prepare for the assault. I'll find the keys!"

Zhang Su examined the lock—big and heavy. Forcing it open would make too much noise. Neither of the dead men had keys; they were probably inside the guard post.

"No way, Uncle, you're acting like I don't exist!"

Pang Dankun suddenly appeared from nowhere, pulling out tools, clacking away a few times—click! the iron lock popped open.

"This…"

Beside him, Li Zongkai held a key, utterly embarrassed.

"This old rusted lock? If it takes more than five seconds, it's just because the cold froze my fingers stiff!"

Pang Dankun proudly hefted the lock in his hand.

"Forget your scars and start showing off again? Shut the fuck up!"

Zhang Su removed the horizontal bars while scolding Pang Dankun—he'd thought the guy still had psychological trauma from being blown up while picking the lock at LeGou Mall. Clearly, he didn't.

Soon, the barracks gate opened. Two men were assigned to guard the flame zombies; the rest streamed inside.

Everyone edged along the walls, peering inward—no one cared about the nearly decapitated corpses. For the King of Hell, this was standard procedure!

"Oh my god… Brother, I'm Guan Senmiao, I'm really with the Survivors' Alliance! Stop beating me!"

Inside the hall, after revealing his identity, Guan Senmiao tried to flee from the Civilization Protectors—but BaJiazi Village's men grabbed him and beat him again.

"Your own people don't believe you're a mole. Looks like you've been loyal all along—played the part of a quiet, honest guy well. Since you claim to be with the Survivors' Alliance, prove it!"

Dog Brother stomped on Guan Senmiao's chest and looked down at him.

"I… I requested night patrols to learn everyone's routines. Three days ago, I overheard Chairman Li contacting the regular army and immediately reported it to Leader Liao…" In the face of death, Guan Senmiao revealed everything without hesitation—his mouth moved faster than a Type 95 assault rifle. He recounted the entire story of the Four Tigers of Beicheng uniting to march north and attack Tianmayu. He also spilled every other secret he knew.

With every revelation, the Civilization Protectors' faces darkened further. They never imagined such a traitor had been among them—someone who'd seemed utterly insignificant, a nobody. The humiliation was unbearable.

"You fucking bastard!"

Da Zhuang and others gritted their teeth. Their hatred for Guan Senmiao surpassed even their hatred for BaJiazi Village.

Guan Senmiao could feel the hostile glares from Da Zhuang and the others, but he had no time to care—he only stared at Dog Brother, as if to say: My unwavering gaze backs up every word I've spoken.

"Then tell me…"

Clang! Clang-clang!

As Dog Brother prepared to question Guan Senmiao further, he suddenly heard metal clattering against the floor.

Several BaJiazi Village fighters gathered nearby were puzzled—the sound came from right beside them. They looked down—and in an instant, a horrifying change occurred!

Boom! A spinning grenade exploded right in the densest cluster of BaJiazi Village fighters…

With no warning, in the dim hall, fire erupted, flipping over several folding chairs, followed immediately by screams and roars of agony.

"Ah! There are still survivors! Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"

"Where? Fuck, where?!"

"My leg! Oh god, my leg…"

Tap-tap, tap-tap…

Before the chaos in the hall had even settled, gunfire erupted—perfectly timed after the explosion.

Over a hundred people inside the hall were stunned.

"Quick, take cover! Get down!"

The Civilization Protectors, who had been crowded around the stage, didn't know if the grenade thrower and shooter were friend or foe—they scrambled desperately into corners.

Over seventy people huddled together. Those on the outside twisted their faces, squinted, and tried to cover their ears against the gunfire—but their hands were bound, so they could only bury their heads into the crowd like frightened ostriches.

Buzzzz…

"Perfect opportunity, brothers! Kill them all! Kill!"

The hall's loudspeaker crackled with static, then a roar drowned out the gunfire—so fast, the first words were barely intelligible, but the two words "Kill!" made everyone's scalp tighten and eardrums vibrate.

That shout froze the huddled Civilization Protectors for a second. They didn't understand the words—but the voice sounded familiar…

No time to think—the gunfire never stopped, bullets flew everywhere, terrifying them into total panic.

BaJiazi Village fighters were skilled with cold weapons but poor with firearms. They'd taken guns from the Civilization Protectors but couldn't use them effectively—caught completely off guard, they panicked and scattered.

Many were killed instantly. Even those who reacted fast and found cover couldn't raise their heads—wooden folding chairs shattered under bullets, sparks flew as rounds struck metal frames.

Forget returning fire—just surviving was a miracle. Their fine assault rifles were useless as firesticks.

"Who are you? We're not Civilization Protectors! Don't kill innocents! We're from BaJiazi Village!"

In a corner opposite the stage, Dog Brother crouched, clutching the already-dead Guan Senmiao, his face twisted with anger, helplessness, and terror.

When the grenade exploded, his first thought was that the Civilization Protectors had returned. He wasn't afraid—he could just grab a few hostages. But the loudspeaker's shout plunged him into ice-cold dread.

The meaning was clear: these attackers were also targeting the Civilization Protectors. Had he just done someone else's dirty work?

No time to think. When the gunfire started, he dove flat with practiced speed, then spun around, grabbing the terrified Guan Senmiao and using him as a human shield, cowering in the corner—barely surviving.

Dog Brother's shout seemed to work—the gunfire gradually stopped. But when he moved Guan Senmiao aside and looked at his own men, he felt dizzy.

All dead. Every last one… His vision was filled with corpses—worse than when they'd fled their village. Were they all truly gone?

Actually, they weren't.

"I surrender, I surrender, don't kill me—I'm not a Civilizational Guardian!"

"I surrender too!"

"I surrender! I lay down my arms—don't kill me!"

Actively offering to lay down their weapons, guns were thrown out from behind folding chairs, as if they were scorching hot potatoes.

The same script played out: about an hour ago, Bajiazi Village feigned weakness, ambushed the Civilizational Guardians, and seized control of the barracks; an hour later, they suffered an unknown attack and were wiped out on the spot…

Boom! The grand hall's doors were kicked open. Though the sky was overcast, the light outside still outshone the interior, streaks of illumination spilling into the hall, revealing a gruesome scene before their eyes.

Against the light, Dog Brother saw a figure standing at the doorway, left hand holding a knife, right hand carrying a rifle.

"Who the hell are you?!"

Dog Brother roared in hysterical rage—if anger could turn to flame, even a fire-spitting zombie would call him Dad right now.

"The Hell Army. You can call me the King of Hell."

A voice, calm yet carrying an inexplicable authority—authority forged by grenades and forged by rifle fire!

Zhang Su didn't think Dog Brother's rage was unreasonable; from Bajiazi Village's standpoint, he had every right to be furious—but that didn't stop them from being wiped out.

"Hey, did you hear that? Brother Su says we're the Hell Army. Hehe."

Outside the grand hall, Liu Yao grinned wickedly and nudged Yang Xinqi with his elbow.

Yang Xinqi gave Liu Yao a look of utter disbelief—as if to say, You've got no shame! The Hell Army… the King of Hell?

If Dog Brother had heard such an introduction at a negotiation table, he'd have laughed out loud—what nonsense! But now, smoke had yet to clear, the stench of blood still hung thick in the hall, corpses lay scattered on the floor, and all of it filled him with terror—as if he'd truly encountered the Deathbringer himself.

The Civilizational Guardians exchanged uneasy glances, bewildered by this unfamiliar title—it sounded terrifying.

"If you're the King of Hell, then give me back my brother's life…"

Fear pushed to its extreme becomes rage. Dog Brother was no exception—his terror shattered the walls of reason. Suddenly, he shoved aside Guan Senmiao's corpse, raised the rifle slung over his shoulder, and aimed it at the figure at the doorway—ready to fire! *Tap! *Pfft.

A flash of fire glinted through the grand hall's windows; the bullet pierced the smoke, tore through the cap, and entered the forehead, instantly shredding brain tissue. There was no chance to pull the trigger for revenge—not even a chance to turn into a zombie…

Dog Brother's eyes locked onto the figure at the doorway. He didn't know where the bullet came from, but it no longer mattered. His consciousness was fading fast—he tried to hold on, but couldn't grasp it. His rifle slipped from his grip, his body lurched sideways, and he collapsed dead.

"Target neutralized. Secure!"

A woman's voice rang out, crisp and brimming with martial spirit.

"Who else? Who dares challenge the Hell Army?"

The shadow at the doorway stepped forward into the grand hall, its form finally revealed in the light.

Those with courage could make out the newcomer's shape—but the person wore a strangely shaped hat, its brim pulled low, obscuring nearly the entire face.

(End of Chapter)