Chapter 163: Giants

“Your ability isn’t suited for this kind of thing. What are you getting angry for?” Xie Chongyi hooked his finger around Wu Heng’s little finger. Wu Heng’s fingers were soft and cool, long since no longer quite the same as those of a normal human.

“She’s good at it, so let her handle it. You just focus on enjoying yourself.”

Wu Heng hadn’t expected love to include comfort. He had thought it was only about kissing and sleeping together.

After a moment of thought, he said, “If you’re not hungry, should we go pick up Mengzhi?”

“….” Xie Chongyi tilted his head and smiled. “When did I say I wasn’t hungry?”

“You didn’t say you were.”

“In your eyes, there’s only Lin Mengzhi. You’d rather let me go hungry for his sake.”

Wu Heng looked confused. “I wouldn’t.”

When Xue Shen came over holding a freshly grilled crucian carp, the atmosphere between the two people sitting in the car was unmistakably strange—one with a stiff expression, the other smiling faintly. Even so, their hands were still clasped together.

“While vermilion gates reek of wine and meat,” Xue Shen muttered. He really had nothing better to do than bring food to these two. Some people didn’t even have enough to eat, yet they still had the leisure to bicker.

Thinking this, he raised the grilled fish to his own mouth and took a bite. Giving it to them would just be a waste of food.

“After you finish eating, Xue Qi and I will head down the road to meet Lin Mengzhi and Xue Zhi. We’re worried something might’ve happened to them on the way,” Xue Shen said.

Wu Heng instinctively glanced at Xie Chongyi.

Xie Chongyi spread his hand toward Xue Shen. “Give me the grilled fish.”

Twenty minutes later, the road was still pitch-black. Xue Shen slipped into the driver’s seat, and Shen Ping’an climbed into the passenger seat. Wu Heng only opened the car door after seeing Xie Chongyi get into the back.

“Be careful,” Ruan Silian urged uneasily, holding X in her arms.

The car’s headlights flared to life, glaring and bright against the darkness. It turned smoothly and drove back the way they had come.

Meanwhile, nearly ten kilometers away, a supply-laden truck stood motionless by the roadside, its wheels caked in mud. A straight beam of headlights shone past the two figures standing in front of the truck, illuminating every single face in the towering crowd opposite them—faces filled with desperate longing.

“Give us some food.”

“Or we won’t let you leave.”

Lin Mengzhi swallowed. He had been craning his neck the whole time—his neck was already sore—but he still couldn’t stop staring at the “people” in front of him. They undeniably had human shapes, yet they were far larger than ordinary humans. Even muscular ability users weren’t built like this—when they opened their mouths, they could easily swallow a normal-sized person whole.

Their fixed stares and constantly opening and closing mouths looked exactly like those of humans, yet it was impossible to regard them as the same kind. They were more like human-beasts.

“You’re built like this, getting some food for yourselves shouldn’t be hard, right?” Lin Mengzhi pinched his nose, overwhelmed by the smell coming off them.

“Why should we get it ourselves? Don’t you have some?”

Lin Mengzhi had never seen beggars so brazen and self-righteous.

“Wow, you’re even lazier than I am!”

Xue Zhi walked over to his side. “I know about this group. They used to be human too. Later, affected by energy fluctuations, they failed to evolve abilities like other ability users. Their bodies simply grew larger, while their intelligence regressed. They need to consume huge amounts of food every day, but they’re not good at hunting, and they’re extremely lazy.”

“So they just open their mouths and ask for food?”

“Don’t you think they’d make excellent laborers? It’s just that no base is willing to support them.”

“Who could afford to? They probably eat even more than Old Fork. This whole truck of supplies wouldn’t even be enough to fill the gaps between their teeth.”

“Cut the crap!” the leading giant barked gruffly. “Hurry up. Give me food!”

“Can we not do this? I really don’t want to hurt you.” Lin Mengzhi took a step back. The beings in front of him still had the same human appearance as he did, but their expressions and behavior were clearly like unsocialized animals.

They didn’t even know to rush forward and snatch the food—only to stretch out their hands and ask for it.

“Can you give us something to eat? Your truck is clearly loaded with lots of meat.”

A long-haired giantess with a round, apple-like face suddenly dropped to her knees with a thud. She pressed her hands together above her head. “I want to eat, I want to eat, I want to eat!”

Several of her companions immediately knelt down around her. Her behavior made the largest male giant snort in disdain, even growing irritable. He began stomping heavily in place, mud splashing everywhere.

“Do you have any dignity at all?” he roared.

Lin Mengzhi: “?”

“They could crush us to death with one foot,” Xue Zhi said, hands tucked in her pockets, showing no sign of drawing a weapon. “But they don’t seem to know that.”

“That’s insane!” Lin Mengzhi couldn’t believe it. “Then how did they survive in the apocalypse?”

“Well, with bodies that big, when they get frightened by mutated creatures and run around in a panic, they’ll end up trampling a few to death. The giants and the mutated creatures that get crushed just become food.”

“They eat people?”

“Animals eat the corpses of their own kind too. Nothing surprising about that.” Xue Zhi turned and started walking away. “Get in the truck.”

“But they’re blocking the road. How do we leave?”

“Drive straight through. They’ll run immediately.”

That timid? Lin Mengzhi still felt uneasy, but he turned around quickly.

The moment he did, a powerful gust of wind came from behind. Before he could react, a massive hand grabbed him, lifting him clean off the ground.

“Don’t leave!”

The one gripping him was that dignity-preaching male giant. He clearly had no concept of his own strength. Lin Mengzhi felt as if his internal organs were about to be squeezed out through his mouth.

The foul stench from the giant’s breath nearly made him pass out. He shouted, “If you don’t want to die, let go of me right now!”

Xue Zhi didn’t waste words. The moment she saw what happened, she grabbed onto the truck’s headlight and flipped herself onto the top of the cargo bed.

Behind her, thousands of ice arrows materialized almost at once, their tips trembling slightly in midair, poised and ready to strike.

“Every base is gradually restoring order now and implementing post-apocalypse laws. If you don’t want to be exiled to Deathlands, put him down.”

The Deathlands carried a notorious reputation. All the giants showed fear on their faces.

Lin Mengzhi could clearly feel the massive hand gripping him slowly loosening.

“That’s more like it,” Lin Mengzhi twisted his waist, watching the ground draw closer beneath his feet. “A wise man submits to the—”

“Wait, no!”

The male giant suddenly changed his mind. His grip tightened even harder than before, and Lin Mengzhi’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “If I eat you, the base won’t know. I’m going to eat you!”

With that, he lifted the tiny human in his hand toward his mouth.

Seeing the giant’s abyss-like maw closing in, Xue Zhi aimed at the center of his forehead, while streaks of fire flashed across Lin Mengzhi’s body.

Then—

Bang!

A burst of blood exploded before Lin Mengzhi’s eyes. He was drenched head to toe in warm, sticky liquid. The massive hand clutching him vanished. He dropped to the ground, landing amid a mess of flesh and gore.

The giant… self-destructed?

Even more bewildered than Lin Mengzhi and Xue Zhi were the giant’s companions. But their confusion transformed into terror at astonishing speed.

The towering legs that had seemed like pillars reaching into the sky now stumbled in panic. Their mountain-heavy bodies crashed recklessly into one another. Furious, frightened roars tore from their throats, mixed with the shrill cries of smaller giants.

Clutching his head, Lin Mengzhi scrambled to his feet. But everywhere around him were enormous feet stomping down chaotically. Each step left a massive crater in the ground. He was knocked down again and again, even his teleportation repeatedly interrupted, gradually shoved toward the center of the giant crowd.

“What the hell is this idiotic species? They’re this cowardly?”

A dark red figure darted into the dense mass of giants, slipping deep inside like a phantom and appearing beside the panicked boy.

Lin Mengzhi felt his left shoulder seized roughly from behind. His heart skipped a beat as he whipped around.

“Class Monitor! Why are you here?!”

“If I didn’t come, should I have let Wu Heng come instead?”

With that, Xie Chongyi grabbed Lin Mengzhi by the shoulder and instantly teleported him out of the chaos, reappearing on top of the cargo truck.

The moment his feet touched down, before Lin Mengzhi could even catch his breath, he asked, “Where’s A’Heng?”

Xie Chongyi looked toward the direction the giants had fled.

Wu Heng’s figure was concealed in the deepest part of the shelterbelt. The dense canopy overhead, interwoven like layers of black clouds, rustled softly. Yet the giants below noticed nothing of the changes around them—they only kept charging forward.

They didn’t even realize that the curvature of the ground beneath their feet was quietly shifting. A massive sinkhole, large enough to bury them all in one go, had already taken shape.

Wu Heng: “…”

And so they ran and ran—straight down to the bottom of the pit.

The first to react looked up, only to discover that the ground was now above their heads.

“Ah! What’s going on?!”

They began chattering noisily. As they sensed something was wrong, their fear only grew.

At that moment, several leaves drifted down from above. Light footsteps followed. A slender black shadow stretched closer and closer.

It was a small human—pale and exceptionally delicate in appearance. But he didn’t look tasty at all. If anything, he looked like he might prick the mouth.

“Let us out!” the woman raised both hands overhead. “Pull me up! Pull me up! Pull me up!”

“Why should I let you out? You’re excellent food.”

“Who’s food?”

“Us?”

“Can we even be eaten?”

They immediately forgot their predicament and started whispering among themselves again.

Ignored, Wu Heng said: “…”

“Let us out!” The woman raised her hands over her head again. “Pull me! Pull me! Pull me!”

Resting his chin on his hand, Wu Heng examined her from head to toe as if using her as a sample specimen. Her limbs were abnormally thick and powerful. At sixteen or seventeen meters tall, even viewed from above at the bottom of the pit, she still radiated an overwhelming sense of enormity.

If they were truly united and coordinated, perhaps they really could uproot trees and move mountains.

Compared to being nothing more than food, this group of giants clearly had a more cost-effective use.

Vines sprouted from beneath Wu Heng’s feet, weaving themselves into a chair for him to sit on.

After taking his seat, he leaned forward slightly, gazing down at them. His tone, rare and softened, carried a hint of gentleness. “Where do you live?”

“In Wuyun Village!” a very large little girl answered in a bright, ringing voice.

“If all you do is beg for food, then what do you eat when you don’t get any?”

“We eat grass, eat fruit, eat bugs.” The giantess scratched at her dry, tangled hair. “But grass doesn’t fill us up, and bugs bite us, so we don’t get to eat every day.”

Wu Heng nodded. After a pause, he asked, “Then do you want to be full every day?”

“You’re going to give us food?” The giantess looked doubtful, but before anyone else could respond, she nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, yes!”

Wu Heng neither confirmed nor denied it. “Go to Deathlands. At the edge of it, find a safe place and wait for me.”

“Deathlands?! No! We won’t go. Just give us food!”

“Then forget it.”

Wu Heng stood. The vine chair beneath him withdrew back into the earth. In the sudden hush, gravel and mud began to roll and slide down from under his feet.

Muddy water quickly rose, submerging the giants’ ankles.

Wu Heng watched silently as they once again descended into chaos. The giantess burst into tears. “We only want food! Why are you making us go to Deathlands?!”

By the time Xue Zhi slowly drove the truck to a stop behind Wu Heng, the giants below were wailing loudly.

“…”

“Why are they crying?” Lin Mengzhi had lost his spot to Xie Chongyi and could only sit on the truck roof.

Wu Heng briefly explained his idea to the three of them.

Xue Zhi jumped down from the truck.

“They definitely can’t understand what you’re saying.” She adjusted her expression. “I’ll explain.”

Xue Zhi crouched at the edge of the pit and put on a smile.

“Sooner or later, Wuyun Village will be incorporated under the jurisdiction of Hanzhou or Qianzhou. At the moment, neither base really has suitable job positions for you. And in a world full of outstanding ability users, you’re very likely to be treated as anomalies… or even as rations.”

“Although Deathlands is full of dangers, we’ll definitely protect you. More importantly, it’s undeveloped territory. You can exchange labor—reclaiming land—for delicious food.”

The giantess blinked. “Why do we have to work?”

From atop the truck, Lin Mengzhi spread his hands helplessly. “Ha! See? I told you, they’re even lazier than me!”

The murky mud had already risen past the giants’ knees. They grew even more frantic, bending down to scoop up mud with their hands and fling it out of the pit.

“Bad people! You’re all bad people!”

“If you stay this stupid, you’ll die sooner or later,” Xue Zhi muttered.

Xie Chongyi wasn’t paying attention to the giants at all. His gaze followed Wu Heng.

Wu Heng had silently walked some distance away. After standing there for a few minutes, he suddenly turned his face toward a particular direction. He crouched and plunged his entire hand into the rain-soaked sludge.

Deep underground, a strange tremor began.

At first it was confined to the depths below, then gradually drew closer to the surface. Farther off, a wet, reddish-brown shape flickered in and out of view.

When it reached him, Wu Heng abruptly stood. Along with his raised hand, another creature was dragged up from the earth—

A thick, elongated being, comparable in size to a massive earth dragon, was hauled from the ground by vines. It had grown so large that the ringed patterns along its body were clearly visible. It thrashed violently, each movement gouging deep trenches into the soil, yet it could not break free from the mutated plants cinched tightly around its neck.

Wu Heng walked back with unusual ease.

Leaning out the truck window, Xie Chongyi called, “Thanks for the hard work.”

Wu Heng ignored him. With a casual flick of his arm, he tossed the mutated earthworm—nearly half a meter in diameter—straight into the mud pit.

The earthworm was still alive. Even in midair it tried to burrow into the surrounding mud walls. But a starving giant grabbed it in one swift motion. The creature hadn’t even managed to sink its mouthparts into the giant before its body was torn into two halves. The contents of its cavity splattered everywhere.

The other giants immediately lunged forward to fight over it. Normally, they were too lazy to catch underground worms like this.

A worm weighing several hundred jin disappeared into their stomachs in moments. They scraped through the mud but couldn’t find another bite. When they looked up at Wu Heng again, their expressions had completely changed.

Wu Heng had never even seen such eager, pleading eyes on Shukui—let alone on X.

Xue Zhi pushed herself upright from her knees. “As expected, if you want to persuade them, food works best.”

Down in the pit, the giantess licked the slime from the corner of her lips. “We’ll go to Deathlands right now and wait for you there! But… I’m not full yet. I still want to eat.”

Wu Heng stood where he was. Vines had already begun quietly extending from underground. Before anyone else realized what was happening, hundreds of mutated earthworms—still writhing desperately—were yanked one after another from the mud walls.

The giants couldn’t even eat as fast as Wu Heng was catching worms for them.

“Holy crap!” Lin Mengzhi jumped down from the truck roof to Wu Heng’s side. Looking at the scene below, which now resembled a giant worm nest, he broke out in goosebumps.

Watching the giants slurp down the worms like noodles made his stomach churn.

“They seriously don’t discriminate—they’ll shove anything into their mouths!”

“Still, if they’re bought over this easily, they don’t seem very reliable.”

Xue Zhi opened her mouth, only to realize that words alone couldn’t quite express her shock. She leaned forward, looking past Wu Heng at Lin Mengzhi.

“Why would you think that feeding this group of giants in the apocalypse is an easy task?”

“Plenty of people can’t even feed themselves.”

Lin Mengzhi blinked in realization. “Right. Almost forgot.”

“…”

“According to recent meteorological projections, the rainy season will continue for another three to six months. Recent testing has revealed relatively severe contamination in the rainwater. Depending on each base’s geographic location, both the level and type of pollution vary.”

“For coastal bases, rainwater is carrying large amounts of algal toxins inland. In southwestern regions, parasitic contamination has appeared—flagellates, worms, amoebas, and others all pose significant potential risks to humans. Ability users and ordinary civilians who lack infection resistance must take proper precautions. All bases are to immediately activate sterilization and disinfection protocols to ensure the supply of safe drinking water for survivors.”

“Although large-scale acid rain and mud rain have occurred in the north, fortunately the northern bases will officially begin migrating south tomorrow.”

The woman’s voice over the radio was intermittent. Though her tone remained composed, there was an unmistakable rasp beneath it.

Xue Shen parked the vehicle nearby. Xue Zhi arrived shortly after.

Rain threaded across the windshield like layers of spiderweb, growing thicker and thicker before streaming downward in rivulets.

No one opened the doors. No one spoke. The female announcer continued.

“…It is estimated that in the coming days, Jingzhou will issue a formal notice regarding unified management and coordinated development among all domestic bases.”

Her professional broadcasting cadence cut off abruptly, as if the signal frequency had suddenly malfunctioned.

In its place came an English song—its melody ethereal and distant, yet deep and intense at the same time.

The wheels of life keep turning

Spinning without control

The wheels of the heart keep yearning

For the sound of the singing soul

Lift your eyes and see the glory

Where the circle of life is drawn

See the never-ending story

Come with me to the gates of dawn

At some point, the broadcast signal dropped entirely. Dou Lu fiddled with the radio for quite a while but couldn’t restore it. In the end, she let out a long sigh.

“Feels like it’s been forever since we listened to music. Like it was something from a past life,” she said.

“I don’t get this one at all, sounds like a monk chanting scriptures,” Lin Mengzhi grumbled, slumped in his seat and worrying about his idol. “I want to hear The Hottest Ethnic Trend. Wonder how Phoenix Legend is doing now.”

“What month is it? Did the broadcast say?”

“November. Even Beginning of Winter has already passed.”

“But judging by what it’s like outside, it still feels like we’re in spring.”

“If this keeps up, it won’t just be human bodies and minds facing the apocalypse.”

Xue Qi suddenly sprang up from his seat. “Our civilization is being destroyed!”

Xue Shen gave an understanding hum. “So tomorrow, remember to ask what today’s date is too.”

“I’ll just make a calendar myself.”

“Are we still traveling tonight?” Ruan Silian sat by the campfire, looking around. Everyone was present.

“Let’s not. No rush over a few hours. The driver needs rest too,” Lin Mengzhi said, worried about Xue Zhi driving such a heavy truck for so long.

“Then we’ll all make do in the vehicles tonight?”

Wu Heng was drowsing against Xie Chongyi’s shoulder. The back seat held only the two of them. At their feet lay Shukui, who had squeezed in the moment the vehicle stopped. Up front, X was fast asleep beside Shen Ping’an.

When Xue Qi mentioned making a calendar, Wu Heng kept his eyes closed and rummaged through his bag, pulling out a brand-new almanac and a pen.

“Class Monitor, your birthday’s already passed?” Wu Heng remembered that before they left Hanzhou, Xie Chongyi hadn’t yet come of age—but now he had.

Xie Chongyi took the pen from his hand, flipped back to June, and circled the 21st.

“Birthday.” After marking the date, he shot Wu Heng a glance that clearly said, ‘Those who care don’t need to be told.’

Yet his expression remained languid and cool—though he was clearly in a very good mood.

Xie Chongyi continued flipping through the almanac, stopping at February. His pen landed on the 4th, circling it with a heart and decorating it with a chain of tiny hearts.

Wu Heng stared at the cluster of doodled hearts, feeling conflicted—he didn’t dislike it, but it made him feel oddly ticklish, like feathers brushing against exposed skin.

Next, Xie Chongyi flipped the almanac to the first page and quickly wrote a bold line:

“Humans endure endlessly; Wu Heng overcomes all obstacles.”

After writing, Xie Chongyi gave Wu Heng a teasing smile. “You like it too, don’t you?”

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