Eaten Ch.113

Chapter 113: Like a New King

A specially made pistol, pitch-black from end to end, appeared in Xie Chongyi’s hand. He narrowed his eyes and took aim. The bullet shot out of the barrel and shattered midair; the fragments linked together like a net, sweeping up the corpse horde below in a single strike.

In the scorched wasteland, something at the very bottom wriggled like a loach, fleeing outward at high speed.

The pistol spun once in Xie Chongyi’s hand. In the next instant he dropped down beneath the perimeter wall. Black dust filled the air. Within the spreading black fog, a blurred human silhouette emerged; a bony, knuckle-protruding hand reached out and seized whatever was hidden beneath the charred earth—

“Why are you here?” Xie Chongyi, who had been expressionless, suddenly softened. He poked the vine in his palm and discovered that its lower end was curled around a tube of paper.

Xie Chongyi assumed it was probably a heartfelt love letter—no fewer than a thousand words—written by Wu Heng.

Without tear stains, it wouldn’t be very realistic.

He unfolded it, only to find a few brief words:

‘Class Monitor, I might be about to bloom.’

Wu Heng’s handwriting was easy to recognize—its horizontal and diagonal strokes always restrained and gathered inward, yet the overall impression was sharp and incisive.

Back when they were in school, Xie Chongyi had already been deeply impressed by his writing.

The paper held neither a love letter nor a thousand words, and certainly no tear marks—just a clean sheet.

But to Xie Chongyi, it was no different from a response to his confession, even more romantic—because if Wu Heng didn’t like him, how could he possibly tell him that he was about to bloom?

Wu Heng still intended to give him the flower. Wu Heng liked him too.

Xie Chongyi folded the letter and put it away. Behind him came a zombie’s roar—the horde was closing in.

When he turned around, that stinking, rotting mouth was already gaping wide in front of his face.

A streak of blue light flashed. The corpses around the young man were cut down to nothing. Sheng Jiang appeared on the outskirts, helplessly saying, “What are you doing?”

Xie Chongyi was in an excellent mood. “Not telling you.”

He swept past Sheng Jiang and returned to the rest station. His flowerpot had been placed on the conference table in the center, like some piece of junk someone had picked up at random.

Xie Chongyi pulled out a chair and sat down, dragging the flowerpot in front of him. Before he could even make a move, the vine in his hand began to twist. The moment he released it, it crawled straight into the pot.

The fragile, tiny sprout visibly shot upward, and the leaves, the size of yellow beans, finally grew into the proper shade of poppy green.

Footsteps came from behind—it was Xue Shen and Dou Lu.

“Water! I need water!” Dou Lu grabbed a large cup and gulped it down. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the image in the flowerpot and choked, coughing until her face turned bright red, taking a long time to calm down. “This morning, it was barely even a sprout!”

Xue Shen sat down opposite them. “What did you just discover outside?”

Xie Chongyi traced the leaves with his fingers. “A love letter.”

“Still half asleep,” Xue Shen muttered in judgment.

Xie Chongyi propped his chin on his hand and squinted at Xue Shen with a smile. “You seem to have a lot of experience.”

“…” Sensing that Xie Chongyi was teasing him, Xue Shen countered, “Theoretically speaking, theory is enough. For me, love is less interesting than a geometric problem—oh, a quadratic equation. But for you, it’s roughly equivalent to figuring out how to advance social harmony in a post-apocalyptic world. Tough luck.”

“Men with no experience are always good at imagining themselves gracefully navigating romance,” Xie Chongyi said with a smile. “But once they face reality, they’ll only be met with countless eye-rolls. Of course, I know you’ll interpret this as a flaw in human nature, a decline in aesthetics, moral decay, and social regression.”

“Old Xie?” Xue Shen pushed up his glasses, eyes curious. “Is it true that during adolescence, everyone becomes stupid enough to be infuriating?”

Xie Chongyi nodded slightly. “You certainly seem to be. Hopefully it’s just temporary hormonal instability.”

After speaking, he clasped his hands together, closed his eyes, and in a completely emotionless tone said, “God bless, Buddha bless, and may the Great Compassionate Guanyin Bodhisattva, who saves all suffering, bless as well.”

“…Damn.”

Everyone else went about their own business, occasionally casting glances at the bickering pair. In truth, they had no idea why the two were discussing love, and from their perspective, neither of them seemed to have anything to do with such a thing.

At that moment, Wu Dian entered, a rolled-up map tucked under his arm.

“Let’s have a meeting.”

Dou Lu and Ying Liuquan instinctively started to move toward the exit.

“You’re staying too,” Wu Dian said. He pulled out a chair and pressed the map onto the table. The map automatically unfolded, revealing a full-body topographical view of Blue Star: water-blue lakes and oceans, undulating mountains and hills, endless plains, rivers stretching thousands of kilometers… everything marked with striking clarity.

Dou Lu leaned over the table. “This seems different from the previous layout?”

“The plains have been compressed, forming hills. High temperatures melted the glaciers on the plateau, widening the rivers and raising water levels. Lakes overflowed, creating basins. Some countries and cities collapsed and disappeared. Our nation’s coastline extended by over sixteen hundred kilometers, with more than a dozen new islands in between. The previous four major seas increased to six. The land area has expanded by one-third, but most of it is unusable…”

“Why can’t it be used?” Dou Lu asked, looking at the unfamiliar territory.

“Experts from Jingzhou were sent for field surveys and found that the edges of this region are surrounded by wetlands. Forests and swamps are filled with miasma, and the mutated animals are more vicious than those outside. No crops can grow on the land. It’s not that the soil lacks nutrients; on the contrary, the forests are extraordinarily dense and majestic, with many species yet to be discovered—but none can be removed. Still, the experts are persistently working on it.” Wu Dian spoke with respect for those veteran experts who were still exploring, though his tone carried a trace of helplessness.

“Such a shame,” Ying Liuquan said.

Wu Dian pressed his finger on a black spot in the southwest of the map. “The urgent matter is these gradually emerging black markers.”

Xue Shen asked, “What’s this?”

“Locations where magnetic fields are anomalous.”

“Locations? Isn’t this a map?”

“It’s actually a detector.”

Sunlight from outside fell directly onto the long table. In the dazzling golden glow, the unusually stark black markers flickered constantly—dense and countless, stretching from south to north, from east to west.

Sheng Jiang leaned over the table, his expression slightly grave. “There are more of them than before.”

“Do we need to wipe them all out?” Dou Lu asked, running her hand over the raised surface of the map, which mirrored the land beneath their feet.

Sheng Jiang turned his back, leaning against the edge of the table. “The goal is indeed to eliminate these anomalies, but there are too many. We don’t have enough manpower, nor enough time.”

“Are you not hiring more people?” Dou Lu questioned.

“Then you come?”

Dou Lu immediately moved next to Xie Chongyi. “I’ll follow the Class Monitor.”

“He’s already joined,” Sheng Jiang shrugged, “but he’s a temp.”

“You’re temps too?”

“No.”

“What’s the difference between a temp and you guys?”

“No difference. Benefits are the same. It’s just that when you leave, no paperwork is required—just a heads-up to the regional supervisor.”

“Then I’ll go with the Class Monitor. I’ll be a temp too.”

“…You’ll need to be assessed.”

“Let’s get to business first,” Wu Dian interrupted the room’s chatter. “Xiao Xie, check out the Chunyu Platform location.”

Xie Chongyi just nodded lightly and yawned. “Xue Shen and Dou Lu, come with me.”

The two showed no objection. Ying Liuquan tensed. “Am I going or not?”

“You first return with us to Jingzhou. You’ll be needed elsewhere,” Sheng Jiang said, smiling.

“But—” Xie Chongyi spoke up lazily, raising one hand. “I can’t help you guys for long. After meeting the colonel, I have my own matters to attend to.”

Wu Dian paused for a moment, then folded the map and nodded. “Alright.”

—

The farther the car drove, the more dust swirled into the air.

After an earthquake, the road had split into long fissures of varying widths. The jeep bumped up and down like it was driving through an endlessly undulating mountain range. Dust blurred their vision, and overgrown plants blocked the way. They barely covered any distance all day.

Nights were slightly better than days. The daytime heat was too high, often stalling the vehicle. At night, though traveling was more dangerous, at least the car could still move.

Lin Mengzhi tore a corner off his vest and tied it over the lower half of his face. “Have we reached the Loess Plateau?”

“The high temperatures have lasted for several days. At this rate…” Ruan Silian pressed against the window. Outside, the landscape looked as if scorched by fire. The parched earth had begun to crack and layer, and the forest’s green had turned into a lifeless gray-green. Even at night, it gave no sense of vitality.

Wu Heng sat in the back row, roots firmly anchored to the seat to keep him from being tossed around.

“A’Heng, why don’t we just settle at the next stop? From now on, live in peace and comfort, what do you say?!” Lin Mengzhi’s head banged against the car roof as he yelled.

Wu Heng lay back, holding up the map. “The nearest place to us is Liuying City.”

“Then that’s it!”

Liuying City lies north of the Yunling Mountains. Before the apocalypse, it was also known as a city of gastronomy, famous for its mutton and noodles. During holidays, it was always listed as a must-visit city for tourists.

As dawn approached, with waves of heat rolling through the air, they finally drove into the Liuying base.

The base was surrounded by layers of iron fencing, with many zombie and animal corpses hanging from it. A warm yellow light bulb hung in the center of the gate, below which were placards, one character per sign, displaying the base’s name. On either side of the gate stood more signs outlining rules for residents and instructions for visitors entering the base.

At this hour, no one was entering or leaving. The guards only had to watch for possible mutant creatures or zombies. When all was calm, they sat around a table playing cards.

A sudden roar of an engine broke the quiet. The guards immediately shoved their cards into their pockets and turned to face the newcomer.

A jeep, sleek and angular like a black panther prowling at night, came to a slow stop. A young man, wearing a face scarf, leaned out and asked in a deep voice, “What are the rules in your base?”

“Six to nine, every day two D-grade energy cores per resident permit, ten for those without,” one of the youths said, giving them a proper salute. “Please don’t say our base is overcharging, because we are overcharging.”

“…” Lin Mengzhi nearly yanked down his scarf to challenge him 1v1.

The rear window rolled down, and Ruan Silian’s smiling face appeared. She asked softly, “If we have several people, can it be a little less?”

“That’s definitely possible… ow!” The youth staggered, gritting his teeth as he whispered to someone behind him, “Don’t kick me.”

“Five or more people, each can pay two less,” another person said.

Ruan Silian pulled two C-grade cores from her bag. “Five people, three days—okay?”

“Okay, okay!” The cores were snatched up at once. The youth beamed. “Where did you get so many C-grade energy cores?”

Ruan Silian only smiled and didn’t answer.

After collecting the fees, the guards took out a palm-sized magnetic disc and attached it to the car. The side of the disc lit up with a full circle of multicolored lights. Half a minute later, the lights unified to white.

The guard, who had been watching the detector, turned back toward the gate. “Clear to go.”

The jeep’s engine roared as it slowly drove into the lights inside the base, leaving only the vehicle’s rear visible to those at the gate.

“Hey, did you see that? A jeep! And it’s modified, maybe it can even withstand mutant animal attacks! I’m so jealous! And there’s a beauty in there! These people must be strong!”

“Hey, hey, didn’t we agree—no discounts?”

“…I, I forgot.”

…

Liuying ranked among the top three in the province in terms of area, but the base itself was far less spacious than Kuhuang.

Upon entering, the group observed the scene inside. It was still before dawn, quiet, with hazy light revealing many people carrying weapons and empty bags, heading outward. When they saw the jeep entering the base, their faces showed a mix of surprise and suspicion.

“I can’t do this anymore, stop driving, let’s find a hotel! My back and waist ache, I really can’t,” Lin Mengzhi said, pulling down his scarf, shaking off layers of dust.

Shen Ping’an spotted a hotel still with its lights on and steered the car over.

The hotel had an arched entrance, reminiscent of a cabaret décor, but the lights were mostly off. The owner was sprawled across the sofa in the lobby, fast asleep.

Ruan Silian was the first to get out, walking through the hotel’s entrance.

The sound of footsteps woke the owner, who propped himself up, clutching his stomach. When he saw the young girl, he exclaimed, “Huh—~~~…” but upon seeing the burly, bandit-like boy following her, his exclamation trailed into a hiss before fading. “How many people are there?”

After paying for their rooms and collecting the keys, the group gathered in one of the rooms.

Shen Ping’an sat in a chair. “For the next three days, whenever there’s time, go to the base to gather or buy supplies we don’t have. If the weather isn’t too hot, scavenging outside is actually more cost-effective.”

“You go,” Lin Mengzhi said.

Shen Ping’an ignored him. “But Ruan Silian can’t go with Wu Zhi. She’s too young and still needs protection.”

“That’s right, I can’t be without my brother,” Wu Zhi said, sitting by the window and swinging her legs.

“I’ll take Ruan Silian,” Wu Heng said, reaching up to touch his head yet again—a gesture he had made many times today.

The flower bud was still there but hadn’t bloomed yet.

Ruan Silian hadn’t yet responded, and Wu Zhi had set her face in a serious expression, though she didn’t dare challenge Wu Heng—unless Shen Ping’an arranged it.

Ruan Silian quickly interjected, “Then I’ll go with Mengzhi or Ping’an. A’Heng, you take Wu Zhi. You’re a plant; you probably need water more. Ping’an’s ability also relies on you.”

“Xiao Zhi goes with Shen Ping’an,” Wu Heng said calmly.

Ruan Silian could only cast a helpless glance at Wu Zhi, who turned her head away.

Lin Mengzhi, oblivious to the odd tension in the room, listened to their conversation. Most of it didn’t involve him. Finally, he rubbed his chin and muttered, “So I’m going alone? What’s going on with you guys?”

Wu Heng stood up, holding clean clothes. “You three can operate together or separately, but the supplies you bring back must not be fewer than required.”

“More specifically? What exactly should we bring back?” Lin Mengzhi asked, completely puzzled.

Wu Heng replied with a single word: “Meat.”

“I’ll make a list,” Ruan Silian said, taking out a notebook. “Everyone state your essential items, and we’ll try to meet as many as possible.”

“I want hair dye. I still want to dye my hair back to purple.”

“That might not be possible.”

“Then bring ten white vests.”

“Okay, vests…”

Leaving the discussion behind, Wu Heng walked into the bathroom. The space was small and narrow, and the water from the shower barely trickled.

He removed his clothes and stood under the feeble stream. After scrubbing his hair for a while, the water running into the drain looked muddy.

The boy carefully washed his hair with his fingers, using little foam and avoiding the soft stems of the flower buds.

When he finished, he stepped out of the bathroom, feeling suddenly light and unburdened.

Outside, the sky had brightened. The sun peeked out, and the heat waves were already rolling in.

In the meeting room, only Lin Mengzhi remained. After Wu Heng came out, he hurriedly darted into the bathroom. Wu Heng lay on the bed, closed his eyes, and fell into a deep sleep.

…

The temperature kept climbing, and the moisture in the ground was steadily evaporating, with no sign of rain.

Wu Heng had been awakened multiple times by the heat, drinking water repeatedly. The curtains could not block the glaring sunlight, and the room felt like a steaming oven.

Eventually, the sun began to set.

On the bed beside him, Lin Mengzhi was still fast asleep, snoring softly. Wu Heng kept his eyes closed, quietly thinking about the path ahead.

If the temperature continued to rise, or even if it stayed at this level indefinitely, humanity’s situation would only worsen.

This was far worse than the long rainy season before—at least rain eventually stops. Every living being relies on water, even machines that aren’t technically alive.

He wanted to have a territory of his own, but he didn’t want to rule over such barren land. Any edible creatures would die of thirst, or be emaciated, or even infected with diseases that turn flesh into rot.

He wanted a Peach Blossom Spring, a utopia—a place where the land is fertile, where food not only grows healthy and plump but also possesses a cheerful spirit.

He only wanted to eat the most delicious.

By the time the group went out together, it was just past eight in the evening. They were all famished, so they picked a random noodle shop and ordered over a hundred jin of water-boiled mutton.

Ruan Silian didn’t ask many questions, brushing off the shopkeeper and paying without hesitation.

Before long, the bleating of sheep came from behind the building. It was different from the sound of sheep before the apocalypse—rougher, longer, and more piercing.

“Boss, where did you get these sheep?” Lin Mengzhi asked through his teeth, addressing the shopkeeper who was kneading dough vigorously.

The boss was a middle-aged, plump woman, wearing an apron, sweat streaming down her face. She kept wiping it off, but her dough-kneading movements were clean and precise, pounding the worktable with loud thuds.

She snorted coldly. “You think this is fake mutton? Not at all. Even without Liuying, in this region, we’d never lie about beef or mutton. Even in the apocalypse, it’s the real deal.”

“Are the cattle and sheep here mutated?” Shen Ping’an asked.

“Of course!” The boss let out a sharp laugh, slamming a basin-sized dough ball onto the table, her eyes blazing as they rested on the group of kids. “One sheep can weigh over a thousand jin, the big ones over two thousand. At first, it scared us, but later, starving as we were, we had no choice but to eat the mutated ones. Then we realized—they were just mutated sheep, and even tastier than before. If they were infected, we couldn’t touch them—they’d eat us!”

“How many people are in your base?”

“Not many, not many at all,” the boss replied.

Just then, a man carried out a huge basin piled high with steaming mutton, so heavy it made the table shake slightly.

The mutton was boiled in plain water—no seasonings, just the pure, natural aroma of the meat. Large lamb ribs could be picked up and eaten directly, while the lean meat was tender and the fat carried a peculiar fragrance. Then he brought over a bowl of dry chili flakes to dip the meat in, making it irresistibly fragrant, almost impossible to tell if it had just come out of the pot.

Wu Heng didn’t like chili. He ate quietly and delicately without it, yet he was the fastest.

Sweat ran down his nose as he ate, eyes straight ahead.

The boss served several large bowls of noodles. “Eat some staples. Eating only meat in this heat will easily give you heatstroke.”

Wu Heng disdainfully pushed the noodles to the others. “I’ll just have a bowl of mutton soup,” he said.

He ate the most and finished first. After wiping his hands clean, he silently approached the dough-kneading table. “Do you still have mutton? I want it raw.”

“We do,” the boss said, tossing down a dough ball, “but I wasn’t planning to sell any more. It’s too hot; at this temperature, eating will definitely cause problems. I need to save some food for emergencies. If I sell it all, there’ll be nowhere to spend the money anyway.”

“Your mutated sheep—did you buy them?”

“Buy them? No, no! I couldn’t afford that. We caught them outside the base ourselves,” the boss said proudly. She then noticed the boy’s expression, which seemed a little unusual. She softened her tone, uncertain. “Don’t tell me you plan to catch one yourself? That’s impossible. Mutated sheep are taller and stronger than water buffalo. If one rams you, a single horn could pierce you right through.”

“Thank you,” Wu Heng said, turning away, already forming a plan in his mind.

He returned to his original seat. Seeing the others still hunched over eating, he spoke softly, “Ruan Silian, go gather supplies with the others. I’m going out for a bit.”

“The base has a curfew. Where are you going?” Shen Ping’an asked, pausing mid-bite.

“There’s a flock of sheep nearby. I’ll go check it out.” The fresh meat in the storage was running low. A few people, a single bird, and a zombie with an unpredictable appetite were consuming it far faster than Wu Heng had anticipated.

So he had factored this into his plan. If he couldn’t even feed such a small number of creatures, how could he hope to feed an entire base—or keep everyone healthy and well-fed?

Clean and tidy, fur smooth and glossy, bones well-developed, meat rich in nutrients—this was Wu Heng’s most fundamental expectation for the creatures around him.

He stood, not considering the feelings of the food, and walked straight toward the base’s outer gate.

X spat out a bone, let out a sharp cry, and flew in a straight line, landing its two claws lightly on the boy’s narrow shoulder blades.

Lin Mengzhi tilted his head. “A’Heng is like a wolf that hunts sheep at night.”

Ruan Silian stared at Wu Heng’s retreating figure for a long moment, then looked at the others and said, “I think he looks more like a new king. What do you think?”

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