Chapter Seventy: The True Predator

"Kill it!"

Fan Li stood to the side, his voice cold and clear.

On the street, not only was Fan Li present, but Yang Shuo and Hu Huayao were also there. Compared to Hu Huayao’s composed demeanor, Yang Shuo’s face was pale, as if recovering from a serious illness. In his hand, he still clutched a kitchen knife dripping with putrid blood.

The apocalypse was no place for comfort. After a day's rest, Fan Li organized a team-building exercise—zombie hunting.

Hu Huayao had experience killing zombies, but Yang Shuo and Liu Hao were still novices in this regard. Although the two now served more as logistics personnel, Fan Li believed it necessary for them to become familiar with fighting zombies. Otherwise, should something unexpected happen, it could jeopardize everyone.

Yang Shuo had already been tested.

Now, in front of Liu Hao, a zombie staggered closer. Its mouth gaped almost to the back of its jaw, displaying rows of bared teeth, with a length of blackened intestine still dangling between them, dripping foul blood onto the ground.

The zombie had spotted its prey. The death of its kindred had not instilled fear in it. Except for suppression by higher-level mutants, zombies seemed incapable of understanding fear.

It shuffled forward, emitting a guttural growl as if choking on a fishbone. Its cloudy, lifeless eyes fixed on Liu Hao as it reached out with both arms, swaying as it came closer.

“Brother Li…”

Liu Hao wore thick clothes, clutching an iron hammer in his hand. Watching the zombie approach, his legs turned weak, nearly buckling beneath him, cold sweat soaking his back. If not for the presence of his companions, he would have fled home long ago.

A bisected zombie lay at Fan Li’s feet. Its upper torso still scrabbled the ground. With a glance, Fan Li lifted his katana and drove it down hard. With a wet squelch, thick, mingled white and red fluid splattered everywhere.

[Slaughter Value +1]

[21/500]

Ignoring the bloody text before his eyes, Fan Li focused on Liu Hao. The latter was clearly terrified, his legs trembling, retreating a step with every pace the zombie took.

The distance between them shrank. Hu Huayao, unable to watch any longer, raised his bat to intervene, but Fan Li shot him a cold look and snapped, “No one is to interfere!”

Intimidated by Fan Li’s authority, Hu Huayao stopped, though his gaze was filled with worry for his attending physician.

Liu Hao was a skilled doctor, a graduate of a reputable medical school. After realigning Hu Huayao’s bones, the latter’s arm pain had greatly improved.

Fan Li’s command stripped Liu Hao of his final hope. He realized Fan Li was not joking. As he’d said before, he and the zombies were each other’s prey—either he killed the zombie, or he would be killed.

Fan Li fell silent.

Liu Hao gripped the hammer tightly, trying to muster the will to fight. The zombie moved closer. He had seen colleagues and patients devoured by these creatures. If he didn’t resist, death was inevitable.

“You must learn to protect yourself.”

Fan Li’s sudden words snapped Liu Hao from his hesitation, but he still didn’t attack, only panting heavily.

The zombie drew nearer. Fan Li watched the looming tragedy with almost cold detachment, voice slow and even: “No one has the right to seek shelter. Survival is hard for everyone. No matter how afraid you are, you must learn to fight back!”

“The one before you is just a common zombie. Its teeth and nails can transmit the virus. If you’re scratched, there’s only one thing I can do for you—cut off your head. Of course, you can also try to fight back, to earn your right to live.”

Temporary protection meant nothing.

“No one will save you. Right now, the only one who can save you is yourself!”

Fan Li’s words pierced Liu Hao’s heart like blades. His whole body trembled; he seemed to be struggling within himself. Gradually, his spine bent slightly; when the zombie was just a meter away, Liu Hao swung the hammer down on its head!

As a doctor, he knew exactly where the fatal points of the human body lay.

The violent impact made the hammer judder in his grasp. With a dull thud, the zombie’s head snapped downward, caving in visibly. Foul blood splattered across Liu Hao’s chest, pants, and even his scarf.

The shock stung Liu Hao’s palm. He’d held a scalpel since the first day of medical school, taught that as long as life was precious, the doctor’s profession would always be revered. For the first time, faced with a “patient,” he held not a blade to save, but a hammer to kill.

But the zombie wasn’t dead. With its head hanging low, it raised it again and let out a hoarse snarl. The wound on its skull meant nothing. Its mouth opened wide, more putrid blood flooding its mouth as it lunged for Liu Hao like a vengeful spirit.

“You’re not—you’re a monster.”

“You’re not human…”

What was deadly to a person meant nothing to a zombie. It didn’t fall, but continued its attack.

Something shifted in Liu Hao’s eyes—a burst of blood-red threads. His grip on the hammer tightened, and he swung again.

With a sickening crunch, the hammer struck the same spot with the same force. Liu Hao became almost frenzied, refusing to stop, raising the hammer again and again.

The zombie’s skull was crushed, its legs twitching before finally going still, but Liu Hao kept pounding as if forging iron, blow after blow.

Once destined for a promising career, the doctor now stared blankly ahead, his face twisted by confusion and madness. He let out a silent, stifled roar, murmuring in a hoarse voice, “Why did it come to this?”

“Why has it become like this? I was saving lives—why am I smashing someone’s skull with a hammer?”

Tears slid down Liu Hao’s cheeks. He seemed to understand, and yet was overcome with sorrow.

Liu Hao’s anguished cries weighed on the others’ hearts. The apocalypse had changed everything—Yang Shuo lost the passionate life he thought he’d have; Hu Huayao, to protect his child, killed with his own hands the wife he’d sworn to be with forever.

Because of the apocalypse, they all lost what mattered most.

Fan Li’s expression grew somber.

If the apocalypse were a game, then everyone was a player. Until the account was closed, however unwilling, they had to keep playing.

Either adapt to the end times, or be eliminated by them.

Zombies were not as terrifying as one might imagine. When Liu Hao swung his hammer, he realized zombies were just slow-moving corpses.

But the true terror of the apocalypse was never these easily slain meat puppets. It was the fear itself, and the real predators—those monsters lurking in the darkness.