Click.
The car door opened.
In the instant the door swung wide, the man’s vision blurred.
A hand reached in from outside the vehicle, seizing him directly by the throat.
It was not a human hand.
The nails were excessively long, curved into pitch-black claws. The sharp tips sank into the skin on both sides of his neck, and thin lines of blood began to seep out.
His eyes widened in terror as he saw the face standing outside the door.
It was his wife.
But her features were deforming.
The corners of her mouth tore open toward her ears, revealing rows of jagged, crowded fangs. Her eye sockets had sunken deep into her skull, and her pupils had thinned into vertical slits that shimmered with a murky, cold light.
He tried to scream, but his throat was gripped so tightly that not even a gasp could escape. His hands flailed, desperately slapping at the claw pinning him down, but the sudden suffocation left him weak and devoid of strength.
His body slumped back into the car.
The creature hauled him inside as it crawled into the cabin.
Click.
It closed the door from the inside.
In the quiet night, the sedan’s windows remained tightly shut. Behind the dark privacy film, nothing could be seen from the outside.
Only an extremely faint chewing sound drifted from the cabin.
The sound was accompanied by the subtle, brittle crunch of grinding bones.
But everyone was too exhausted. Unless they leaned in close to listen, it was impossible to hear.
Dawn broke.
Wang Ziming stepped out of his SUV and stood still for a moment with his eyes closed. His brow was slightly furrowed, as if he were using his Perception to sense something. His fingers instinctively pressed against his temples, rubbing them slowly.
A few seconds later, he opened his eyes, confirmed their direction, and picked up the vehicle’s loudspeaker.
“We can’t stay here for long. Everyone, get on the road. We’re moving out.”
No one complained.
The convoy engines roared to life as the vehicles followed one after another.
That same sedan from the previous night was among them, silently sandwiched in the middle of the line. Its doors were shut tight, and the dark film kept its interior a complete mystery.
After the convoy had been driving for more than 2 hours, they encountered another group of migrating survivors.
There were more than twenty people squeezed into several dilapidated vehicles.
The car bodies were covered in dents, the windshields were half-shattered and held together by tape, and the people inside were gaunt and sallow.
Their eyes were sunken, looking as if they hadn’t eaten a decent meal in days.
They had likely barely escaped from a Deformed Dog Pack.
Wang Ziming used his usual routine.
He distributed some drinking water and announced that he possessed an Awakened Ability that allowed him to identify safe directions within the Black Mist.
Naturally, he incorporated these people into his convoy.
The group of cannon fodder had grown again.
After traveling for about another half an hour, the convoy arrived at a small, abandoned residential area. Wang Ziming ordered everyone to stop and scavenge for supplies.
This area wasn’t too dangerous, but it wasn’t clean either.
Every now and then, one could see a Corpse-transformed Humanoid Monster—bent and hunched after being infected by the Weirdness—wandering through the ruins.
Their skin was a grayish-white, and their movements were sluggish. Compared to a Deformed Dog Pack, they were practically docile.
Successive screams drifted over from the direction of the scavenging teams. No one bothered to look. Everyone simply quickened their pace, racing against time to rummage through anything useful.
White Night and the others also got out of the car. Mu Yingying ducked into a semi-collapsed apartment building and emerged with several sets of relatively clean clothes and a thick down jacket, which she cradled in her arms with a beaming smile.
White Night’s focus wasn’t on food. She asked Little Frost to help her find items suitable for throwing.
Little Frost searched through several rooms and came out with a pile of scrap: a wrench and two sections of solid steel. They were heavy and easy to grip. These would be her future “ammunition.”
She had already figured it out.
Her great strength was her biggest advantage, but close-quarters combat was too risky. In the Apocalypse, there were no hospitals.
A single wound infection could be fatal.
Throwing was the combat style that suited her best—dealing damage from a distance without having to risk herself in melee.
The only problem was that her accuracy was still far from where it needed to be.
After Little Frost put away the items she had found, she located an empty dirt slope and used a boulder about half the height of a person as a target to begin practicing.
She gripped a section of Steel Pipe, lowered her shoulders, pulled her arm back, and let her waist and hips drive the power.
The Steel Pipe whistled through the air, striking the ground half a meter to the left of the target stone and bouncing several times.
She missed.
She picked up a pebble, adjusted her angle, and threw again. This time it was closer, grazing the edge of the boulder and chipping off a fragment.
Still a miss.
Little Frost frowned and repeated the motion over a dozen times. Her hit rate was around 30%. It was fine at close range, but once the distance exceeded 15 meters, she had to rely on luck.
‘It looks like I only have a real chance if I’m close enough.’
She tucked away the stones in her hand with a sense of helplessness and brushed the dust off her palms. She would just have to practice more in the future.
“Keep practicing, dear Frost. Those voluptuous shock absorbers of yours are swaying so beautifully it’s to die for. Even Little White Night is staring dazed,” Mu Yingying said with a laugh.
“Shut up, Yingying! Believe it or not, I’ll start using you as my target.”
Embarrassed and annoyed, Little Frost tossed a stone up and down in her hand.
White Night’s face turned as red as a bubble tea kettle. She wasn’t peeking on purpose; she really couldn’t help but be drawn to the sight…
‘I feel like Auntie Ying’s psychological suggestions are too strong…’
It always made her look instinctively.
Little Frost also stole a glance at White Night. Seeing that White Night actually seemed to enjoy watching, her fair, pretty face grew even redder.
“I’ll… I’ll practice some more…”
By the time the scavenging teams returned to the convoy, several more people were missing. Expecting ordinary people to face those corpse-transformed monsters was ultimately too much to ask. Not everyone had the strength to fight back, and even fewer had the courage to face those things head-on. Some had enough physical strength, but their hands wouldn’t stop shaking, preventing them from even holding a knife steady.
The outcome was predictable.
Since there weren’t many supplies, Wang Ziming didn’t let the group linger for long. He urged everyone to finish their rest and prepare to move out.
In the convoy, there was a man named Old Zhang. He was in his early 40s and was a veteran driver who had spent half his life driving heavy trucks. Since the Apocalypse began, he had managed to survive until now thanks to his solid driving skills.
Old Zhang had taken notice of the young couple. It wasn’t that his powers of observation were particularly keen; it was mostly because the short-haired woman, Xiao Qian, was quite attractive. Before the world ended, he wouldn’t have dared to have any ideas, but now that they lived every day with no guarantee of a tomorrow, the things people usually repressed began to surface.
He figured that food was worth more than anything in this world. He had saved up some stock in his vehicle and wondered if he could trade it for something else. After all, they were a couple, so it wasn’t easy to bring it up openly.
However, the couple was a bit strange today. While everyone else was scavenging, Old Zhang didn’t see them get out of the car. The doors remained shut, and the windows were covered with dark film, making it impossible to see what was happening inside.
‘Are they scared out of their wits? Too afraid to even look for food?’
If that was the case, his opportunity had arrived.
Unable to suppress the fire in his heart, Old Zhang wandered over to the sedan and knocked on the window.
“Xiao Qian, are you in there? Why didn’t I see you go out to find food? Are you too scared?”
He deliberately avoided mentioning the husband’s name.
As it turned out, Xiao Qian was the only one sitting in the car. A weak, sorrowful voice drifted out from inside.
“Is that you, Brother Zhang?”
She didn’t open the car door, speaking through the glass instead.
“It’s not that I didn’t want to find food… it’s my husband. He went out to use the bathroom last night and never came back.”
Old Zhang was stunned for a moment, and then his heart skipped a beat. He tried his best to control his expression, forcing a look of sympathy.
“That… Xiao Qian, you have my condolences.” He paused, lowering his voice. “I found a lot of food while scavenging just now. I’ll bring you a piece of bread later to settle your stomach. You haven’t eaten, have you?”
“Thank you, Brother Zhang…” Xiao Qian’s voice was muffled. “But I can’t eat anything right now. Let me rest for a bit. I’ll come find you tonight.”
“Alright, alright. Don’t be too sad. Try to look on the bright side. The living have to find a way to keep going.”
While Old Zhang spoke words of comfort, his heart was burning with anticipation. As he turned to leave, his footsteps were noticeably lighter.
Before the sky had completely darkened, Old Zhang couldn’t help himself and came back. He knocked on the window on Xiao Qian’s side.
“Xiao Qian, I brought you some water.”
“Brother Zhang, there are too many eyes around right now,” Xiao Qian’s voice remained weak. “You should come back a little later.”
“I just came to give you some food. I was afraid you’d go hungry.”
“You’re such a good man, Brother Zhang.” Xiao Qian paused. “But in the Apocalypse… it really is difficult for a weak woman. Let me think about it properly. I’ll give you an answer tonight when no one is around, at the latest. Just wait for me in your car.”
Old Zhang’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Fine. I’ll wait for you.”
When he turned to leave, his palms were covered in sweat.
Late at night.
The convoy was stationed in a clearing. The surroundings were pitch black, with only the faint red glow of a few vehicles’ taillights. Everyone was fast asleep.
Knock, knock, knock.
Three knocks sounded on Old Zhang’s car door, steady and unhurried.
“Brother Zhang, it’s me. Open the door.”
Xiao Qian’s voice sounded from outside the car, soft and tinged with a hint of shyness.
“I’ve thought it through. In this weird Apocalypse, a weak woman really does need a man to rely on…”
Old Zhang had actually fallen asleep. Startled awake by the knocking, he sat up with a jolt. He rubbed his eyes groggily, his brain not quite awake, but his heart was already racing.
He threw the car door open.
Standing outside the door was the short-haired woman, smiling faintly in the dim moonlight.
Old Zhang grinned, just about to speak—
But what greeted him was not a night of tenderness.
In the dead of night, the sedan’s door clicked shut once more.
The chewing sound began again, mixing with the subtle crunch of grinding bones, echoing dully within the sealed cabin.
Without a sound, another person had vanished from the convoy.
Over the next few days, the convoy continued its journey.
The road was relatively safe, and they didn’t encounter any more large-scale Deformed Dog Packs or Eerie Rifts.
However, the number of people in the convoy was silently decreasing.
It wasn’t a sudden drop; rather, one person would disappear every day or two.
Some were those who encountered corpse-transformed monsters while scavenging and failed to return—those cases had a clear cause.
But there were a few people who were perfectly fine the night before, only to vanish into thin air, along with their vehicles, by the next morning.
No, they didn’t vanish. Their cars were still there, but the people were gone.
Most people didn’t notice. Deaths were too common in the Apocalypse, and no one had the energy to keep a head count.
But Wang Ziming noticed.
He was meticulous, and he had a habit of counting the vehicles before every departure. He needed to know how many chess pieces he had left to use.
For three days straight, the number of vehicles hadn’t changed, but the number of people was decreasing. Every time, the disappearances happened at night. Moreover, those who went missing were always men sleeping alone in their cars.
Wang Ziming sat in his SUV, pushing up his glasses as his fingers idly tapped on the steering wheel.
Something had infiltrated the convoy.