Chapter Thirty-Seven: Embodiment of Despair

Hu Huayao was nearly at his limit. He could feel his arms growing heavier, his body weighed down as if he were carrying a sack of cement, making every step a struggle. The sweat inside his helmet blurred his vision, his eyes aching relentlessly, yet he dared not close them. He forced himself to endure the pain, keeping his gaze fixed on the movements of the zombies ahead.

If it were just himself, he might have given up long ago. He was already a sinner, his hands stained with the blood of his beloved. He had considered redemption through suicide, but there remained an unbreakable bond of love in his heart. He had witnessed the way zombies fed: monstrous creatures tearing open human bodies like wild beasts, burying their heads to slaughter and devour, intestines and organs consumed, the victim enduring a terror so absolute before finally succumbing to death.

If he were alone, he would have stopped moving, simply wanting to collapse and rest—even if only for a few seconds. But he could not.

In his arms, he cradled his daughter—the last precious gift left to him by fate. Such a lovely child could not be sacrificed to these hideous monsters.

“No!”
“Get away from me!”

Hu Huayao let out a desperate, agonized roar, squeezing out the last reserves of his strength. Like a furious ox, he charged forward. The zombies tried to block his path, but they could not withstand such force. Chaos erupted on the battlefield as zombies toppled to the ground, unable to rise.

But there were far too many. Now, hundreds surrounded him, and no matter how fiercely Hu Huayao struggled or crashed through, more zombies always blocked his path to survival.

His football gear was already torn, and he could feel it would not last much longer. Once his defenses failed and he was wounded by a zombie, there was only one outcome—to become one of them.

A flicker of despair flashed through his sweat-soaked eyes. He knew survival was impossible; with so many zombies obstructing him, even his considerable strength would ultimately lead him only to death.

Death was unavoidable. Before that... Hu Huayao’s left hand, always shielding his chest, tightened its grip. In his palm, he held a sharp fruit knife.

Faint cries echoed around him.

Hu Huayao, trembling, turned the blade toward his chest. His eyes grew vacant, his expression filled with regret and helplessness. He let out a silent, repressed howl, murmuring in a voice heavy with sorrow, “I’m sorry... I’m sorry...”

“Why did it turn out like this? My life wasn’t supposed to be this way... Why did this happen?”

“Why?!”

Tears dropped one after another. The man who had slain at least seven or eight zombies with his club in a short span now wept like a child whose hope had shattered.

He did not fear death; his despair and pain came from what he was about to do.

“I’m sorry...”

Hu Huayao uttered those last words. Just as he raised the knife to stab into the woven sack at his chest, a voice thundered in his ear:

“Ellie!”

Hu Huayao had no idea what “Ellie” meant. Amid the chaos of the battlefield, he couldn’t even discern which characters made up the name, nor what it signified.

Yet the sudden voice seemed to shine like a beacon, illuminating the darkness that had engulfed Hu Huayao’s life. Instinctively, he looked ahead. Through a gap, he witnessed something so shocking it threatened his sanity.

He saw a man wielding a katana. Perhaps the layers of clothing made him look somewhat bulky, but there was no doubt—he was human, not one of the foul, predatory creatures surrounding him.

But what truly unsettled Hu Huayao was not the sudden arrival of “reinforcements,” but the figure beside the man.

A little girl, about seven or eight years old, wearing a skirt. From behind, she seemed utterly out of place amid the battlefield, but now she faced him, and her face was indescribable.

There were no features—only countless sharp teeth. Perhaps the carnage excited her, for those teeth began to spin, like a meat grinder, radiating an uncanny sense of horror.

A monster!

That was Hu Huayao’s first thought.

He didn’t know what she was, but one thing was certain: she was not human—at least, not the kind he knew.

As he stared in astonishment, the strange creature moved. Ellie rushed forward, and with a single punch, tore open a zombie blocking her path. Her teeth spun, unleashing a terrifying suction. Blood poured from the zombie’s wound, but under the force, its abdomen writhed, the opening stretched wider, and in the next moment, its organs spilled out and were devoured by Ellie.

Fan Li followed close behind. Despite the overwhelming number of zombies, he too faced immense pressure. But that pressure fueled him; after a few seconds’ adjustment, the grotesque zombies transformed into coveted points for slaughter.

Fan Li leaped, sweeping his blade in a horizontal arc, sending a head flying through the air.

[Slaughter Value +1]

[Slaughter Value +1]

[Slaughter Value +1]

Fan Li was lost in the frenzy, katana in hand, each strike hitting a zombie's vital point. In mere seconds, he had decapitated three zombies.

[21/100]

His slaughter value now surpassed twenty, bringing him closer to the next summoning.

The aura of terror spread, slowing the zombies’ assault. Those near Fan Li even ceased their advance, retreating a few steps instead.

Intimidation!

Compared to the weeping man, the zombies reacted far more strongly to intimidation—not only freezing in place, but experiencing a primal fear that drove these worshippers of death and flesh to step back.

In Hu Huayao’s eyes, the man with the katana stood as a shadowy figure before countless zombies, his presence oppressive and sinister. Even the terrifying zombies recoiled, afraid to approach him. He seemed to embody despair itself, holding back the madness of the undead single-handedly.

“Come toward me!”

As Hu Huayao observed him, the man looked back, waving for Hu Huayao to approach.

The scent of blood permeated the air. The strange little monster was close by; every time it killed a zombie, it returned to the man’s side, like the most dutiful guardian, never leaving him for a moment.

The tall and short figures, side by side, exerted tremendous pressure on Hu Huayao. Instinct urged him to keep his distance, for they seemed even more terrifying than the zombies themselves.

Yet something stirred at his chest. In his eyes was endless longing and sorrow. He hugged the woven sack tightly, as if making a decision. With a cry of anguish, he stepped forward and ran toward the man who had beckoned him!