Chapter 71: Ten Years of Brotherhood

The way Yan Ze and Gangzi met was quite intriguing.

Back then, Yan Ze was still a struggling intern doctor, the kind with no rights whatsoever. As for Gangzi, his situation was even more miserable—not only did he lack any rights, but in that place, he wasn’t even regarded as human, more like a beast that happened to speak the language of men.

He was locked up in the arena day and night. Though he had food and water, he was never treated as a person. Like a wild animal, he fought for his life every day, forced to battle others, living every moment in fear.

With blood licking the tip of a blade, how could one avoid injury? Minor cuts, scrapes, and surface wounds were never treated. Sometimes, even those who suffered mortal wounds received no timely medical attention. Gangzi was lucky; when he was on the verge of death, they suddenly remembered his former bravery, the excitement he’d brought them in the ring—reluctant to let this two-legged beast die, they sent him to a doctor.

Nobody wanted to treat a creature considered no more than a plaything. People avoided him as if he carried the plague. Only Yan Ze seemed indifferent to it all, staring at Gangzi’s wounds in a daze. The scene at that moment could only be described as “a healer’s compassion”—not the least bit exaggerated.

It was the first time Yan Ze had seen such severe injuries. Though the man’s skin was dark, it couldn’t possibly be this dark—patches of blue and purple, the skin bruised and dull, not a birthmark but the result of countless accumulated contusions.

As for the wounds still bleeding, anyone would flinch at the sight—a gash over twenty centimeters long on his arm, the bone visible beneath the torn flesh. Fortunately, the main artery had been spared; otherwise, even a god couldn’t have saved him.

Gangzi’s back was covered in wounds as well. Though not all were deep—many mere scrapes—the sheer number made his entire back look terrifying. The most frightening, however, was the injury on his face. Yan Ze examined it and guessed it was from a blow of some kind. The X-rays showed a slight bone fracture, and the cut would likely leave a scar.

Yan Ze squatted quietly beside him, tending to the wounds. At first, Gangzi resisted—not because he didn’t feel pain or wanted to die, but because he harbored resentment towards everyone here. Look at these so-called healers, each avoiding him as if he were a demon. They were all human, all exploited; only the degree differed. So why was he the untouchable one?

Especially this young man cleaning his wounds—he looked gentle and harmless enough, but who knew what malice he hid within? Who could say what he was plotting?

“Stop moving! If you keep squirming, you’ll end up with a crooked stitch—that’ll definitely leave a scar!” Yan Ze scolded softly, annoyed by Gangzi’s restlessness.

“Tell me—what’s your real motive?” Gangzi asked coldly.

“Motive? I’m a kind-hearted man. Is it wrong to want to save you?” Yan Ze was stunned for a moment, then, seeing the despair on Gangzi’s face, immediately understood. He’d seen that look too many times before.

“Are there even good people in this place? Look at me—are you mocking me?” Gangzi’s tone dripped with contempt.

“Do I really look that much like a bad guy?” Yan Ze couldn’t help but laugh at the man before him. After all these years, he hadn’t changed a bit—his thoughts were written all over his face.

“A beast in human skin…” Gangzi cursed.

“You’ll pay for that remark!” Yan Ze teased, lifting one of Gangzi’s legs onto his shoulder, hand reaching menacingly toward a sensitive spot.

“Damn, you people really are perverts! Aren’t you afraid you’ll end up with a handful of shit?” Seeing the young doctor’s actions, Gangzi was furious enough to want to hit someone—this was more humiliating than simply being put out of his misery. A real man couldn’t endure such degradation.

Yan Ze was only trying to scare him, curious to see his old classmate’s reaction. Satisfied, he released him and said, “Many years ago, you said the same thing—transfer student!”

Gangzi was stunned—could they really be old classmates? From his words, it seemed they hadn’t seen each other in years, but he couldn’t recall anyone who looked like this. Could these people be playing the emotional card, using his information against him?

Yan Ze, noticing Shao Gang’s confused expression, glanced around to make sure they were alone and there were no cameras. He swiftly pulled off his mask. “Recognize me now, old friend?”

“Xiao Ze!” Gangzi’s eyes went wide; after three seconds, he blurted, “How did you end up here too? And what about Xiao Bu—do you know what happened to him? I haven’t heard from him in ages!”

“Why do you have so many questions? It’s like a machine gun,” Yan Ze replied, exasperated by the barrage.

“I’m just happy to see a familiar face! You know what it’s like here—this place is hell on earth…” Gangzi’s movements were too abrupt, and he pulled at a wound, making his face twist in pain.

“You weren’t complaining about the pain a moment ago.”

“You’re not a stranger—why pretend? Just look at these wounds; I thought I was a goner! By the way, you never said—how did you get caught up in all this?”

Yan Ze briefly recounted his story to his old classmate—how he followed his mentor to work on a project, was tricked into coming to the Great Wasteland’s underground city, and lost contact with the outside world; how Wei Bu came on a mission, how they conspired to destroy the devils here, how their uprising failed, and how Wei Bu ended up turned into a specimen…

At that, Yan Ze stopped, and Gangzi asked no more. There was no need; he could guess the rest. Back in school, Xiao Ze and Xiao Bu had been inseparable. On his first day after transferring, these two troublemakers had bullied him. That was how their friendship began—with fists.

But instead of hearing words of grief from Gangzi, Yan Ze heard, “Damn it! Xiao Bu still owes me a meal! Now he’s gone—who am I supposed to collect from? Bastard!”

Gangzi’s mind really did work differently from others. But perhaps that was for the best—the atmosphere was less heavy.

Once the wounds had been treated, Shao Gang was taken away. For safety, the two of them continued to act as if they didn’t know each other. Gangzi remained hostile toward everyone, and Yan Ze kept up the facade of the bullied little doctor.

Neither made any pact to help each other, to band together, or to form a gentleman’s agreement. They both knew that they could barely protect themselves—how could they possibly protect anyone else?

If fate allowed them to meet again, they’d stir up real trouble together. That was the vow Gangzi made silently in his heart.