[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-fiercest-man-in-the-end-times":3,"chapter-the-fiercest-man-in-the-end-times-the-fiercest-man-in-the-end-times-chapter-556":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Fiercest Man in the End Times",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2319794,4536,"Chapter 556: Another Encounter with an Old Friend","the-fiercest-man-in-the-end-times-chapter-556",556,"\u003Cp>\"Alright, do what you're confident in—that's fine. We're each playing to our strengths.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Su agreed with Yu Wen’s words, looked at the dwindling line of vehicles, and raised his hand: \"Let’s go, get on the vehicles—we’re heading home!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The fire-spitting zombie vehicle was driven by Zheng Xinyu, leading the convoy, while a light tank brought up the rear.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Over a hundred vehicles in total, some seven or eight meters long, others four or five; at most three could travel side by side, some wider or driven by incompetent drivers allowed only two, and the gap between vehicles was at least three or four meters—stretching the entire convoy five or six hundred meters from front to back, a spectacular sight from above.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The most striking was a small sidecar motorcycle that kept darting ahead and falling behind; even Zhao Dechu couldn’t bear the cold and got inside a vehicle, leaving only Lu Yubo riding the sidecar with serene ease, somehow fulfilling a motorcycle dream of sorts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Due to uneven driving skills and excessive vehicle loads, the convoy moved slowly, capped at thirty kilometers per hour, lurching forward in a drowsy rhythm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Su sat inside the tank—not exactly skilled, but normal driving posed no challenge; he claimed it was to guard the convoy, but really he just wanted to slack off—the tank’s tiny field of view showed nothing but the few vehicles ahead…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He whistled, smoked a cigarette, and felt delightfully relaxed—rare moments of peace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The tank was nearly sealed, so he didn’t worry about his emotions affecting others—he could think whatever he wanted, utterly carefree.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He mentally reviewed the events of the past day and a half: on Tianma Isle, day after day passed without much sense of time, but in the city for barely a day and a half, he’d encountered more than he had in a full month on Tianma Isle! The solutions weren’t perfect, but they were satisfactory—he’d gained many new friends, aiding his future prospects. Thinking of the thriving camp, Zhang Su couldn’t help but feel a deep pang of emotion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pulled out a thermos from his bag, sipped the hot tea brewed back at the barracks, and felt utterly at ease.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just as he was enjoying himself, Zhang Su suddenly saw the sunroof of the vehicle ahead slowly open. Before he could wonder why anyone would do that in this freezing weather, Pang Dakun stuck his head out, looked back, waved at the tank’s observation port, and picked up the radio.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Uncle, behind you—there’s a vehicle catching up!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Huh?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Su startled—the tank’s noise drowned out his super hearing, so he slammed the brakes, the tracks screeching with metal grinding.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Type 15 light tank had a commander’s panoramic sight, but he was seated in the driver’s position and had no time to check the surroundings. Since Pang Dakun had confirmed the situation, he had no reason to doubt it and immediately gave orders.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Xinyu, stop the convoy!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before departure, instructions were clear: the main convoy moved at the pace of the battered cargo trucks; if the cargo trucks stopped, the entire convoy halted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The convoy stretched far, so Zheng Xinyu at the front couldn’t see what happened behind—but she could hear Pang Dakun and Zhang Su’s conversation. When she learned a vehicle was approaching, she prepared to stop.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At thirty kilometers per hour, a firm brake would stop them easily if not distracted; over a hundred vehicles halted neatly on the road. Many noticed the approaching vehicles, braved the cold, and stuck their heads out to watch the spectacle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One sedan, two vans—one large, one small—all worn and battered. The worst was the seven-seater van: one side door was gone, its occupants exposed directly to the freezing wind—no doubt invigorated…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The three vehicles didn’t speed toward the convoy; instead, they stopped forty or fifty meters away after seeing the convoy halt, as if hesitating.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clang!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Lao Yang, take the men and guard the perimeter! Xinyu, you and Zhang Ya lead the forward watch!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Su gave orders while pushing open the hatch and sticking half his body out. Members of the Yama Legion gathered around the tank, all armed and ready. Many other combatants also grabbed weapons and moved toward the convoy’s rear—this was a chance to prove themselves, and they wouldn’t miss it. \"What the hell is this? Planning to rob us?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhao Dechu pointed strangely at the three vehicles parked far away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Hehehe…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I bet they won’t dare, haha.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Unless they’re completely insane.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some nearby people chuckled at Zhao Dechu’s joke, not everyone found it cold—especially those with vivid imaginations, picturing the three vehicles’ occupants trying to rob a five-hundred-person convoy, the scene absurdly funny.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Su frowned—his energy wasn’t enough to hear conversations forty or fifty meters away, and he had no intention of activating his backup energy slot, but he could clearly see the front seats of the vehicles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Judging by appearance, the newcomers looked ragged, like survivors of a defeated Shanzi Camp—tattered clothes, messy hair, faces cracked from cold and dryness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Eight people crowded the front seats of the three vehicles; the back seats must’ve been even more packed. Two were women, the rest all men. No one spoke. All stared fixedly at Zhang Su’s side…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Damn, what’s going on?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Su was baffled by their blank, dazed expressions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With zombies vastly strengthened, the former North City Four Tigers had all been forced to relocate. He’d anticipated many survival camps had been wiped out, so he’d prepared for survivors to catch up—but why were these idiots just standing there, silent? \"Come on, loudspeaker.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Su waved behind him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Catch it, brother!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhao Dechu took the portable megaphone from Yu Wen and tossed it lightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Hello… hello…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Click.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Su tested the mic, then waved at the three vehicles: \"Friends over there—where are you from? What do you want?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After he shouted, the other side showed no reaction—just exchanged glances, faces expressionless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yama Legion members held rifles. Seeing the odd state of the others, they immediately disengaged safeties, ready for combat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qi Xiaoshuai tilted his head and whispered to Pang Dakun: \"If the vehicles suddenly start moving, shoot the small van on the left.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Got it, no problem.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pang Dakun nodded firmly, face tense.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhao Dechu, overhearing them, walked over to Lu Yubo and discussed defensive tactics.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Regular members felt safe in the large group, but Yama Legion combatants knew: never let your guard down, ever!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"If you have no intention of trouble, leave now—I won’t hinder you!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Su waved again at the vehicles. First, a side-to-side motion—greeting. Second, a forward-backward motion—clearly: go away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>More prolonged staring, no words exchanged—but their expressions grew more complex.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Are these guys all mute?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Su couldn’t help internally grumbling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Boss, these guys are weird. Should we take them captive first?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lu Yubo couldn’t hold back. Facing fellow humans demanded even more caution than zombies—he always followed the principle: better to kill the wrong one than let the right one escape. \"Better to avoid trouble…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Su whispered back—he didn’t want complications now, just wanted to cross Haihe River and return to Tianma Isle! He placed the mic to his mouth again: \"This is the final warning—if you don’t leave, we’ll use force!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As soon as he said “use force,” a row of weapons rose—standard rifles, submachine guns, pistols, even homemade crossbows and crude firearms joined in. Crossbows were understandable—forty to fifty meters was their effective range—but the firearms? Ridiculous…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The funniest was Zheng Ziwen, nephew of blacksmith Ding Yongguo. Who knew what he was thinking—he probably wanted to look brave, brandishing a dagger amid the crowd, face utterly serious.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Could they just be ordinary survivors like us…?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Who’s even a special survivor? Who cares what’s going on—why are we wasting time?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Exactly! If you want protection, get out and join us—or turn around and leave! What’s this nonsense?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The crowd murmured, annoyed by the three vehicles’ behavior.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The sky turned dark. On one side: a five-hundred-person column. On the other: three vehicles, at most twenty or thirty people. From above, the contrast resembled three hundred warriors facing a Persian army…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gulp.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just as Zhang Su was about to lose patience, the seven-seater van suddenly shuddered, then shook again. Then the doors of the other two vehicles opened. Arms raised high, passengers stepped out one by one, surrendering, and lined up obediently in front of their vehicles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now it was Zhang Su’s side that stared at each other in confusion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Strange people—either silent or straight-up surrendering, then still silent. Did their camp have some rule that speaking angered the gods?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"One, two, three… Holy shit, twenty-eight people crammed into three vehicles. Impressive.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhao Dechu counted with his rifle barrel, face twisted in disbelief.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The official capacity of the three vehicles was seventeen. These people carried some supplies, yet each vehicle squeezed in three or four extra.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When everyone had stepped out and stood in line, a middle-aged man stepped forward, hands raised, voice hoarse: \"Hello, friends ahead—we’re survivors who escaped from Niyazi. My name is…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Ah!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Suddenly, someone beside the tank screamed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Many were startled by the sudden cry. They turned—faces puzzled. The one who screamed had a friendly face and round figure, yet commanded great respect: it was the sharpshooter, Fat Sister Tan Huajun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Tan, what the hell are you doing…?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhao Dechu patted his chest. Tan Huajun stood right beside him, intensely focused on the other side—then suddenly yelled in his ear, making his heart pound as if battle had begun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tan Huajun didn’t respond to Zhao Dechu. She lowered her rifle, frowned, and stared at the other side.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her scream had interrupted the man’s speech. He stood frozen, awkward, unsure what to do.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Su knew Tan Huajun—always calm, even when he first met her at the gas station. She’d handled two zombies alone in the early outbreak. Could she be an ordinary woman?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The reason for her outburst wasn’t hard to guess—there must be someone familiar among them. At forty to fifty meters, Tan Huajun could see clearly; Zhang Su had no excuse not to. But he recognized no one. He asked: \"Tan, what’s going on?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Boss…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tan Huajun’s face twitched. She looked at Zhang Su strangely, lowered her rifle, and pointed: \"Wang… Brother Wang—that’s Brother Wang!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Brother Wang?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone present looked bewildered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Hey, Fat Sister, who’s this ‘Brother Wang’?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wu Baokang asked Fruit Man, knowing he’d known Yanluo Wang since early days and might know something.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Liu Yao and others also looked at Zhang Xin—but he just shook his head, confused, then snapped: \"Why am I shortchanging you?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No one answered him…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Zongkai glanced questioningly at Yu Wen—only to find Yu Wen equally puzzled, staring at Lu Yubo.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone in the Yama Legion knew: Zheng Xinyu and Zhong Xiaoshan were the first to join Zhang Su from the residential compound, then Tan Huajun and Lu Yubo joined next, followed by Yu Wen, Yu Qing, and Zhao Dechu—all original members.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If Tan Huajun recognized someone but Yu Wen didn’t, then Lu Yubo must know. Sure enough, when Lu Yubo heard “Brother Wang,” his expression froze.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Brother Wang… Old Wang?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Su frowned, looked again at the twenty-odd people: five women, twenty-three men. Their bulky clothing and months apart made identification by build difficult—he simply couldn’t recognize the former milkman Wang Guangjun…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The sixth person from the left…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tan Huajun’s voice was low, her brow furrowed with sorrow, lips trembling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Huh? That…\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Su followed her gaze—and his heart jolted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The sixth person from the left was a gaunt old man. Whatever he’d endured, half his face was severely burned, unrecognizable—no wonder Zhang Su hadn’t recognized him. But Tan Huajun’s hint revealed one detail: the man’s shoulder bag. Zhang Su remembered that filthy, battered bag—the milkman Wang Guangjun had pulled yogurt from it, traded it for instant noodles and cigarettes, and carried it with him all the way from the compound.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bag matched—but with half his face destroyed and the other half stretched and scarred, it was nearly impossible to discern Wang Guangjun’s former face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hey, is there anyone here with the surname Wang?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not recognizing them was fine—Zhang Su just asked outright.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a silence of three or four seconds from the distant crowd, the more than twenty men standing in a row all turned their gazes toward position six on the left.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing the reaction of the group across from him, Zhang Su immediately understood the truth—no need to ask further. With Tan Huajun’s identification and now their confirmation, he exhaled, picked up the microphone, and called out loudly: “Old Wang, haven’t seen you in months—can’t you recognize my voice?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A stir ran through the crowd on the other side; a young man, seventh from the left, leaned close to the man in position six and spoke loudly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Su couldn’t hear what was said from his side, but he could just make it out: “Dad, the boss over there seems to know you!” “Holy shit, is it really that bad?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Su frowned and muttered, slowly merging the figure of Wang Guangjun with the man across from him. Through observation, he could see his vision had deteriorated—his remaining left eye was blurred, and now he needed someone to shout in his ear just to hear—so his hearing must be failing too…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Deaf and blind—how the hell is this shrimp supposed to survive in the apocalypse? (End of chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",2245,"2026-06-20T15:15:16.642Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","1a794a45b8617d155b1dc86e8d8956cb2ac6aa86e1d9d76a26106a85492e39ba","the-fiercest-man-in-the-end-times-chapter-557","the-fiercest-man-in-the-end-times-chapter-555",694,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-fiercest-man-in-the-end-times-cover.jpg"]