Chapter 680: The Terrifyingly Strong

“Let’s cut the crap between us—you’ve changed a lot lately. Is that energy inside you affecting you?”

On the mountain path from Cuileng Pavilion to the parking lot, Zhang Su asked Chen Hanzhou bluntly.

Chen Hanzhou clenched his intact palm into a fist, pressed his lips together, and said in a low voice, “Probably. I can’t control it.”

“Can’t control it, or don’t want to control it?”

Zhang Su stopped walking and looked at Chen Hanzhou with deep meaning.

Inability to control is unavoidable; unwillingness to control is a matter of will.

Chen Hanzhou’s gaze flickered away slightly, and he sighed, “Both, I guess, Brother Su. This thing’s addictive—once you’ve tried it, you can’t let go. Trying to suppress it is like quitting smoking: exhausting, agonizing…”

Over these past few days, Chen Hanzhou had grown increasingly skilled at controlling the energy within him. He’d tried many things, including deliberately suppressing it—but every time he did, he felt an inexplicable heart palpitation. Only when he let it flow did he feel comfortable.

“That extreme? So how far can you use this energy now?”

“Getting better every day—I can hit exactly where I aim. Brother Su, I feel I’m terrifyingly strong!”

Chen Hanzhou smiled, looking bright and confident.

Before the disaster, wealth and power were a man’s backbone. Now, in this zombie-ridden age, raw personal strength has become the foundation.

“You’re even making jokes now? Fine, looks like you’re really fine,” Zhang Su chuckled.

“Seriously, I’m strong now, Brother Su. Hey, how about you test me?”

Chen Hanzhou suddenly felt a surge of combat intent.

Zhang Su raised an eyebrow slightly. The old Chen Hanzhou had been quiet and reserved; this new one was far more flamboyant. Personality changes weren’t inherently good or bad—he just hoped it wouldn’t spiral out of control.

“Fine, let’s test it. How do you want to do it?”

Chen Hanzhou smiled and glanced around. Seeing the busy crowd, he considered asking Zhang Su to head to the mountain ravine for a proper sparring match—but remembering he had other tasks, he said, “Keep it simple. Let’s compare grip strength?”

He removed his glove and extended his left hand, covered in scars and calluses.

“Grip strength? Alright, go!”

Zhang Su extended his hand. His own bore minor scars and calluses, but compared to Chen Hanzhou’s, they looked almost “delicate.” Anyone unaware of the situation would instinctively bet on Chen Hanzhou winning.

“Uncle, quick, come look—something fun’s happening!”

Zheng Ziwen had claimed he wouldn’t help Ding Yongguo with work, so he’d slacked off for a day—but now he was back in the blacksmith shop, quenching a newly forged short katana. He looked up and saw Zhang Su and Chen Hanzhou standing on the mountain path, “shaking hands”? “All you do is idle! I’ve got no time—watch yourself!”

Ding Yongguo truly had no time—he was pressing a steel ingot, a critical step requiring frequent reheating. The process was tedious, sweat dripping from his brow; he couldn’t spare a moment.

Not just Zheng Ziwen—others working in the distance also noticed this odd scene and stopped to watch, wondering what the two were up to.

“Brother Su, you call the start.”

Chen Hanzhou narrowed his eyes. His special energy surged, gathering in his left palm. So much energy flowed that the palm couldn’t contain it—it spread up his entire arm.

Zhang Su observed Chen Hanzhou calmly. Aside from his focused expression, he saw nothing unusual. He said softly, “Begin.”

“Hmph…”

As soon as Zhang Su spoke, Chen Hanzhou exerted force. Veins bulged on his back, muscles and bones tensed and trembled, a creaking sound emanating from their locked hands.

Yet within three seconds, Chen Hanzhou’s expression changed. Logically, if his strength were greater, he should have crushed Zhang Su’s hand. But in reality, no matter how hard he squeezed, Zhang Su matched his force exactly—as if he were an infinite-load dynamometer, unyielding, cold, and utterly stable.

“I lost…”

Chen Hanzhou released his grip, offering a sheepish smile.

“You gave up that fast? I haven’t even used any strength yet!”

“Ah, hey, hey hey, ohhh…”

Chen Hanzhou saw Zhang Su’s strange smile and realized something was wrong. But when he tried to resist again, it was too late—or rather, utterly useless!

His hand felt like dough, being kneaded at will. Bones and tendons cracked with a grinding sound. A wave of weakness and numbness crashed over him like a tidal wave; his facial control shattered, twisting in agony.

He stomped his feet, yanked hard—and his arm flew backward. Zhang Su had already withdrawn his force.

“Did Little Chen eat too much fermented garlic? Why’d he challenge Brother Su to a grip contest?”

“Maybe Brother Su’s testing his strength?”

“Who knows? But it sure looked painful…”

The onlookers all instinctively clenched their left hands.

Zheng Ziwen made an exaggerated face, shrank his neck, and hurried back to work. The pride from his two successful tests crumbled the moment he saw Chen Hanzhou get humiliated.

“Keep it up!”

Zhang Su clenched his fist at Chen Hanzhou, then walked down the mountain as Chen Hanzhou stood there grimacing. He pulled out his radio, planning to confirm personnel appointments with Yu Wen before lunch—then issue the orders after eating.

The onlookers were baffled. No one knew who had initiated this little contest. If Zhang Su had, it was odd. If Chen Hanzhou had, it was even odder…

In the Shanhai District urban area, eight vehicles were parked haphazardly amid ruins. Ahead lay even worse terrain—not even heavily armored off-road vehicles could proceed, let alone tanks. “We can’t drive any further. We walk from here.”

Duan Wu looked around. The painstaking road-clearing efforts had only advanced them a few hundred meters. As they neared Longtou Camp, conditions worsened: buildings had collapsed mid-level, massive structures larger than cars crushed the roads—impossible for humans to clear.

“Uh, Professor Duan, why don’t we scout ahead from here?”

Wu Lue pointed to the vehicle carrying the drones.

“Captain Shen, how far is it from here to Longtou Camp?”

Duan Wu had a rough idea, but he preferred to be precise.

“I know!” Park Chan-yong raised his hand eagerly. “I’m from Shanhai District—I know it well. Straight-line distance is just over four kilometers. By car, about 5.6 kilometers. Taxi fare’s usually fifteen or sixteen bucks!”

“Very detailed…” Duan Wu nodded, then turned to Wu Lue: “Little Wu, can the drone handle this distance?”

He was responsible—not just for personnel safety, but also for camp property. He didn’t want to risk losing vital equipment during reconnaissance.

Wu Lue walked toward the vehicle, giving a thumbs-up with full confidence: “Back when skyscrapers stood, it’d be uncertain. But now? Even eight kilometers is fine if the battery’s full. Luckily, I charged it fully yesterday!”

“That’s excellent.”

“High-tech really is the way to go.”

Everyone sighed in relief. The endless ruins ahead were daunting—even walking through them would be grueling, and they’d have to return too! (End of chapter)