Chapter 640: Are You the King of Hell?

“Su-ge, Su-ge, there’s something happening up north!”

Like a divine rescue, this woman’s voice eased the tension of those who had failed their tests—they no longer had to face reprimand, and they were immensely grateful.

The stiff, awkward atmosphere suddenly turned cold; the words “something’s happening” felt like a curse, tightening the brows of those with a sense of duty.

“I’m here. What’s the situation?”

Zhang Su took a deep breath to steady himself, removed the walkie-talkie from his waist, and asked in a low voice.

“Two vehicles came from the north—a pickup and a van—stopped on the road and won’t move. They’re about a kilometer from the northern watchtower!”

Zhang Ya, her face alert, peered northward through the observation window, one hand holding binoculars, the other the walkie-talkie; on the table beside her sat a fully charged hand warmer, a thermos, and a rifle.

“Stopped on the road and won’t move…”

Zhang Su muttered to himself. A kilometer north of the watchtower was where the second grape had exploded—nothing special beyond that. Just as he was about to ask for more details, Zhang Ya spoke again.

“They’ve started moving! The vehicles are heading this way—rapidly approaching!”

Zhang Ya’s voice was serious and tense. She was alone at the post—fine for guarding against zombies, but if two vehicles arrived with hostile intent, she couldn’t possibly handle it alone.

“Hide yourself. We’re coming right now!”

Zhang Su didn’t want Zhang Ya exposed—he didn’t know if the newcomers were friend or foe. If they were enemies, taking her hostage would be a nightmare.

“Big brother, should we notify the outer sentries?”

Zhao Dezhu stepped forward to ask.

“Keep your posts. Everyone has weapons? Then move out!”

Zhang Su glanced at the members of the Yanluojuntuan , then spoke: With only two vehicles and about ten people, a dozen of us can handle this. He turned to the crowd, about to speak, when the walkie-talkie crackled again.

“Su-ge, they’ve stopped and are waving at me…”

Zhang Ya peered through the observation window at the figures on the road, her expression strange.

The watchtower was built on barren farmland, just forty to fifty meters from the road—no matter how well camouflaged, it still looked conspicuous.

“Are they armed?” Zhang Su frowned.

“Five people got out—definitely armed, but they haven’t drawn weapons. From what I can see… wait, one, two… oh, short, long, long… three short, three long, three short? Su-ge, they’re signaling me with flashlights—it’s a distress signal!”

Zhang Ya’s tone was odd. This was utterly bizarre—who were these people? They looked respectable, yet they came straight out asking for help?

“Call out to them. Tell them to wait. We’ll arrive in five minutes. If anything’s off, throw a grenade at them!”

Zhang Su wasted no more time, clipped the walkie-talkie back to his waist, and addressed the group: “Test over. Results will be announced tomorrow. Those of you who fell short now know your weaknesses—train harder. Zombies are evolving faster than you!”

Zhang Su turned, then remembered something and added: “Those who failed every test—three days from now, you’ll get one retake. Pick one event to practice. That’s all.” With that, he led the Yanluojuntuan away from Village One.

The announcement of the final rule ignited hope in those who had failed all three tests—like Su Xiaoya, or Wang Zhetao. There weren’t many such people—just over a dozen…

The crowd watched as Zhang Su and his group departed. Once they were out of sight, Wang Xin said: “Uh… should we follow them? If they need help, we’ll look proactive. What do you think?”

Wang Xin had done decently in today’s test: barely passed the 200-meter run, failed the second, and aced the third—flipping five tires with one second left. Two passes meant he qualified for the Elite Corps.

“Do we even need to help? The Yanluowang can flip tires with one hand—we’re still total noobs. Why would we be needed?”

Wu Baokang felt no pride despite passing all three tests—he truly felt the gap. This wasn’t the time for vanity. Until heavy weapons fully recovered, combat still relied on personal strength! Yu Wen was still a member of the Yanluojuntuan , but he no longer joined external missions. Hearing the chatter, he switched on his portable speaker: “Brave warriors, listen to me! Ice doesn’t form three feet thick in a day; martial mastery isn’t gained overnight! See your Chaju clearly, work hard. The Yanluojuntuan is here to protect you, to give you time to grow. Cherish this hard-won peace—next crisis could come at any moment. Strive to grow stronger. Keep going!”

“Keep going!”

No one shouted. The crowd replied in low, steady voices, brimming with resolve.

…

Three vehicles sped toward the northern watchtower. Zhang Su spotted them from afar.

He braked early, stopping about thirty meters away. The Yanluojuntuan members stepped out. The others carried no weapons—but as the local authority, carrying rifles was perfectly reasonable.

“Friends, where are you from?”

Zhang Su strolled forward casually, sizing up the newcomers.

All five were men. Their clothing was neat—not luxurious, but each wore a clean down jacket, different styles of hats, two had scarves wrapped around their necks, gloves stuffed in pockets, and matching work-style cotton boots on their feet.

To be fair, these five were better dressed than the Yanluojuntuan members—clearly survivors from a large camp. Yet their refined attire couldn’t hide the faint exhaustion in their brows. Subtle, and they tried to conceal it—but Zhang Su’s eyes missed nothing.

A burly man wearing a scarf waved at Zhang Su and forced a faint smile: “Brother, hello. I’m Shen Linrui, Recon Team Leader of Longtou Camp. May I ask your name?”

“Longtou Camp?”

At his words, someone beside Zhang Su gasped in surprise.

This morning they’d wiped out a group of Longtou deserters; this afternoon, Longtou Camp showed up. Their intel was sharp—and their speed was incredible!

Zhang Su’s heart skipped a beat, but then he thought: That didn’t make sense. If they’d come to demand answers, why signal for help? “Ah, so you’re from the Shanhai District. Hello. I’m Zhang, though most folks out there call me Yanluowang.”

“Yanluowang?”

“So Yanluowang is one person!”

“No way—we just met Yanluowang?”

The five from Longtou Camp had been slouching against their vehicles. At the name Yanluowang, they snapped upright. Their shock looked genuine. They exchanged glances, unable to believe they’d met the leader of a camp so easily.

(End of Chapter)