069 A Single Hand Supporting the Heavens-3

As the zombies continued to trample the area, the ground in the woods began to level out. Their numbers grew, and their speed increased, easily outpacing Wang Chen’s ability to "process" them. This drastically reduced his room to maneuver, placing him in constant peril. At one point, he was completely surrounded with no trees nearby to climb, but thanks to his quick reflexes, he fired several shots in rapid succession, narrowly saving his life from being torn apart and devoured.

The renewed sound of the pistol served as a clear signal to Chen Chong, who was waiting anxiously outside the woods. Though he was a bit of a fool, he was no idiot; he understood that the renewed gunfire meant the situation inside was dire. He grabbed his Type 95 assault rifle and fired three shots into the air. The report of the assault rifle was far louder than the pistol, successfully drawing the attention of many zombies. They forgot about the flickering, elusive prey in the woods and began to move outward, easing the pressure on Wang Chen and granting him a precious moment to catch his breath.

Taking advantage of this respite, Wang Chen quickly moved to the edge of the woods near the riverbank. With the zombie swarm distracted by the gunfire from the Type 95 and the Type 56 assault rifles, they were mostly facing away from the river, giving him the chance to continue his harvest.

Striking from behind was far easier than being surrounded, yet disposing of several hundred zombies was no simple task. Even if they were just hundreds of pigs tied up for a butcher to slaughter one by one, he would be exhausted to the point of collapse. Moreover, these were zombies—creatures that could fight back, felt no fear, and would not stop their hunger for fresh flesh unless their brains were destroyed.

Wang Chen lost track of how much time had passed. He had even become deaf to the staccato rhythm of the light machine gun until it shifted from bursts to single shots. Only then did he realize his radio had fallen off somewhere; no wonder his ears heard nothing but his own ragged breathing, devoid of the constant static he was accustomed to.

Exhausted to the point of collapse, Wang Chen knew it was not yet time to let his guard down. Since the light machine gun had begun picking off the zombies leaving the woods, the cleanup was nearing its end. Feeling partially relieved, he lunged toward the riverbank, jammed his bayonet into a tree trunk, and pulled out his pistol. Using the trees as cover, he carefully scanned the water. The sun had risen, the winter fog was thinning, and visibility had greatly improved. Aside from the three barges, there was nothing else on the water. The expected tugboats were nowhere to be found, as if the barges had simply drifted over on their own, carrying the zombies with them.

Wang Chen decided to risk appearing on the riverbank—partly to confirm no new barges were arriving, and partly to finish off the zombies that had been trampled into the mud but were still writhing and moaning. By the time the light machine gun fire ceased entirely, Wang Chen had completed the clearing of the riverbank. He slumped against a pier piling, lacking the strength even to breathe heavily. Every muscle in his body ached. Hadn't Tu Hongye claimed the physical enhancement would reach the standard of a second-tier athlete? How could he feel this miserable after a bit of intense exercise? It was clearly a counterfeit product! It had to be returned for a tenfold refund!

Wang Chen relied on these rambling thoughts to distract himself from his physical discomfort. Meanwhile, outside the woods, Ma Tian, who had been mowing down the remaining zombies with the light machine gun, was terrified.

Five minutes earlier, he had tried to call Wang Chen but received no response. At the time, the zombies were too numerous to enter the woods, but now that they were cleared, Wang Chen was nowhere to be seen. Could he have truly made a heroic sacrifice?

The image of that madwoman Sheng Qingru rushing into the night, half-naked and wielding a Type 79 submachine gun, flashed through his mind. Ma Tian shook his head, desperately trying to reassure himself: Wang Chen would be fine. Even if he were bitten... no, even a bite wouldn't matter! He wasn't afraid of zombie bites! Losing a piece of flesh was nothing!

Ordering the others to watch their step and be wary of any remaining active zombies, a grim-faced Ma Tian took the lead. Shu Chang, who had rushed over upon hearing the news, took the left, while Chen Chong, now subdued by Wang Chen, held his Type 95 on the right. The three formed a wedge formation and carefully entered the woods. Circling past a thicket that blocked their view, the scene within the trees left them all stunned, speechless, and utterly shocked.

Could a human really do this?

How could this possibly be the work of a human?

How in the hell could this be the work of a human?

The small patch of woods was carpeted with corpses, filled to the point where there was hardly anywhere to step. Between the uneven bushes and the broken, muddy ground, the bodies lay in every conceivable position—sprawled, leaning, sitting, or prone. The thick, putrid stench mixed with the heavy, fatty odor of brains assaulted their nostrils, nauseating even the civilians who had seen similar sights before. As for those who had never left the encampment since the zombie threat had escalated, they scrambled to find a place to vomit.

Searching and calling out, a near-despairing Ma Tian finally spotted Wang Chen by the makeshift pier on the riverbank, weakly waving a hand. Ma Tian later refused to admit it, but he wept the moment he saw that wave.

Wading through the mud and stumbling over the riverbank, Ma Tian reached Wang Chen and immediately began patting him down, ignoring Wang Chen’s protests about not being "that kind of brother." Once he confirmed that Wang Chen was merely exhausted and had no fatal wounds, he finally breathed a sigh of relief. He pressed his headset and said, "I've found Wang Chen. He's okay. Some minor injuries, nothing serious, just completely drained."

The next second, Ma Tian, Shu Chang, and Chen Chong all had to pull their headsets away to avoid the deafening cheers and screams coming over the channel.

Muttering to himself about how Yang Xiaohua’s scream was far too high-pitched—as if the surviving Wang Chen were her boyfriend—Ma Tian opened his first-aid kit, pulled out a glucose drink, opened it, and handed it to Wang Chen.

After a few sips, Wang Chen regained a bit of spirit and asked, "What's the situation at the bridgehead?"

"Brother Ren is watching it. They don't dare approach. Their flying thunder bombs don't have the range of our grenades, so they were just using them to intimidate us. When the fog lifted and their vehicles were exposed, Brother Ren launched a counterattack. He ignited two of their vehicles and sniped seven or eight of them. The remaining vehicles retreated, firing blindly into the fog. Brother Ren didn't send anyone to pursue, fearing a trap. He also warned Fang Qiang, who is on his way back, to stay on high alert to prevent Boss Tian from surrounding our forces to strike reinforcements. Oh, and Xiaohua intercepted their communication channel and recorded it; I'll play it for you later."

"Good. Help me up."

Completely limp and exhausted, Wang Chen was spared the cleanup work. He allowed Chen Chong and Shu Chang to hoist him up and carry him out of the woods. Along the way, he basked in the respectful, admiring, and even worshipful gazes of the civilians, his vanity receiving a small, satisfying boost.

It was what he deserved.

At the same time, Wang Chen saw something else in the faces of those civilians.

Hope.

After experiencing so much tragedy and losing so many loved ones, even after arriving at the relatively safe Peninsula Encampment, these civilians usually wore expressions of numbness. But now, it was different. There was a luster in their eyes—a glow born from truly finding hope, gaining the confidence to survive, and gathering the courage to fight for their lives against zombies, thugs, and every other threat that loomed over them.

After all, they had witnessed a miracle with their own eyes.