Chapter 59: Cold Snowy Night · Killing Saber (Part 1)

Volume 1 “Year of Calamity”

The biting cold wind cut across their faces like a saber. The bare trees resembled bald old men, unable to withstand the assault of the northwestern wind, hunched over in submission. This was the first snowfall since the catastrophe began. Goose feather-like snowflakes descended with the winter chill, blanketing the entire Yushan in silver. Only the resilient pine halfway up the mountain remained erect amidst the overwhelming snowstorm.

Strangely enough, after the initial Red Tide invasion, the Blood Rain had never returned. If not for the Zombies roaming the cities and the man-eating Mutated Creatures still present, one might mistakenly believe this was all just a terrifying nightmare.

An Sheng and Pighead Three trekked through the mountain stream. The sudden blizzard had made the already rugged mountain path even more treacherous. Their modified trucks had all broken down, leaving An Sheng no choice but to head to Wugang Town on foot for supplies. Fortunately, Pighead Three was there as strong labor – transporting Materials by human strength alone would have been unbearably troublesome.

On Pighead Three’s back was a large basket measuring 1.3 meters in diameter and 2 meters deep, woven days earlier by the elders and children of the Fortress using Materials like hemp rope, iron wire, and square timber. To be fair, the elders were quite skilled – Old Zhang and his team had conducted tests showing this massive container could easily hold a ton of rocks, making it perfectly suitable for carrying supplies.

Truth be told, the Fortress still had considerable reserves of grain and dried vegetables, but supplementary foods like canned meat and vacuum-sealed meat products had run out. With the children in the Fortress still growing, An Sheng and Old Zhang had decided he would take Pighead Three down the mountain to gather meat provisions.

The breeding plan had already been scheduled. After all, canned and vacuum-sealed meats had expiration dates and would eventually become inedible. To ensure a continuous meat supply, they needed to become self-sufficient. Fortunately, the Virus only affected humans and didn’t impact animals. When spring arrived, the Fortress residents would begin reclaiming wasteland for farming and establishing breeding grounds. For now, however, they still relied on processed meats to address their urgent needs.

There was another positive development: although the recovered Particle Signal Amplifier wasn’t fully repaired, some functions were already operational. Medium and short-range signal coverage, for instance, was now completely functional. This represented a leap forward for Fortress communications – Nie Chong and his team’s walkie-talkies previously had a maximum range of only five kilometers, and that was in open areas without obstructions. When blocked by mountains or tall buildings, the range shortened even further.

Within the high-frequency particle signal radiation zone, all specialized communication devices worked unimpeded. The small earpiece An Sheng currently wore, for example, was a dedicated communicator. Another objective of this trip was to test the maximum range of the particle signal communicator.

“Third Brother, could you eat more gracefully?”

At that moment, Pighead Three was wielding his Cleaver in his right hand while holding half a Zombie corpse in his left, devouring it like a pig’s trotter. To be honest, his table manners were rather difficult for An Sheng to watch.Pighead Three, hearing An Sheng call him, thought he also wanted to eat the meat and reluctantly extended the half-eaten zombie toward An Sheng, mumbling grudgingly, “Here… eat it, boss!”

“Uh, thanks, but I’m full,” An Sheng snapped irritably, leaping far back. After all, ordinary zombie flesh reeked of a nauseating stench, and he couldn’t stand the smell.

Pighead Three tilted his massive head, pondering An Sheng’s “thank you” for a long moment before suddenly rumbling in a deep, muffled voice, “You’re welcome, boss.”

He remembered this was something that strange human named Xun Lili—who often sparred with him—had taught him. At the thought of Xun Lili, a faint smile actually appeared on Pighead Three’s terrifying pig-like face. It seemed the relationship between these two non-humans was quite unusual, almost like mutual respect between masters.

Just as An Sheng was about to question who had taught Pighead Three such shameless manners, a convoy suddenly emerged in the snowy distance. Based on An Sheng’s memory, that should be the main route of National Highway 103. The appearance of the convoy piqued his curiosity—this was the first time since the catastrophe he had encountered survivors’ vehicles from outside Yushan Fortress.

A convoy meant a large gathering of survivors. Although Nie Chong had mentioned their special forces squad had found a few survivor settlements before, An Sheng had never seen one with his own eyes. So, he decided to follow them.

“Yushan, this is An Sheng. I’ve spotted an unknown survivor convoy. I plan to tail them,” An Sheng reported to the fortress, pressing the communicator button with his finger.

The reply came from Ye Rong, who was currently working with Wu Hongyu on repairing the Particle Signal Amplifier.

“An Sheng, this is Ye Rong. Commander Zhang orders you to be cautious. Also, turn on the surveillance camera I gave you—we can receive the video feed here.”

Acknowledging, An Sheng leaped onto Pighead Three’s back, pulled a small camera from his pocket, attached it to his chest, and switched it on before instructing, “Third Brother, follow that convoy from a distance. Don’t let them spot us.”

Obeying Boss An Sheng’s command, Pighead Three devoured the remaining zombie in two or three bites and strode swiftly after the convoy, which was nearly vanishing into the snowstorm.

Due to the blizzard, the convoy moved slowly, making it easy for Pighead Three to keep up. Fortunately, the storm provided cover—otherwise, his massive frame would have made stealth nearly impossible. But An Sheng hadn’t expected the pursuit to stretch over a hundred kilometers. It wasn’t until afternoon that the convoy finally entered a remote village.

This village lay at the border between Huan’an County and Linhe County. Huan’an was semi-mountainous, flattening into plains to the south where Linhe County was situated. Linhe was sparsely populated and primarily agricultural—each village essentially functioned as a sizable farm. Sadly, post-catastrophe, the once-managed fields had fallen into neglect, though the vast, endless stretches of former farmland were still discernible.Finding a concealed spot, An Sheng had Pighead Three hide there while he alone used the blizzard as cover to stealthily approach the village ahead. He didn’t want to alert the survivors here for now, remembering how Nie Chong had described their special forces squad’s encounters with survivor settlements—many scenes even Nie Chong was unwilling to recall. After all, in the post-apocalyptic world following the catastrophe, the living could sometimes be more inhuman than monsters. Thus, An Sheng decided to scout the situation first.

“Hurry up and move, stop fucking dawdling!”

A burly man kicked a frail man to the ground. Already burdened with a heavy load, the frail man stumbled off balance and fell into the snow. The burly man clearly had no intention of letting him off, proceeding to beat and kick him until the frail man loudly begged for mercy.

This scene was clearly witnessed by An Sheng, who was hiding on the roof of a nearby house. After infiltrating the village, An Sheng found it unusually clean—meaning there were no signs of zombies or mutated creatures lurking, likely cleared out by the survivors here. At the village center stood a four-story building with an extensive footprint, its courtyard alone spanning dozens of acres, along with several large sheds. It appeared to have previously been a grain station.

Due to the heavy snowstorm, An Sheng couldn’t clearly see how many people were inside, but judging by the faint, shifting shadows, he estimated a considerable number of survivors. With the open surroundings offering no cover, An Sheng planned to wait until nightfall to investigate further.

Though winter had just begun, the cold felt piercingly severe, like the deepest winter days—unusually harsh compared to previous years. But with the virus that caused the apocalypse already unleashed, abnormal weather seemed less astonishing.

Fortunately, An Sheng was a mutant. Even without transforming, his cold resistance remained formidable. Otherwise, in temperatures dropping to at least -30°C, staying exposed in a blizzard for hours would have either frozen him to death or killed him with the icy, snow-laden winds.

After nightfall, the compound’s courtyard fell silent, with no light sources visible. An Sheng wondered—did the survivors inside not even light fires at night? How could they endure such frigid conditions? Soon, however, he detected a clue: the smell of burning coal.

The reason he hadn’t noticed earlier was that he had been positioned upwind, where the gales carried the smoke away. Now closer, he caught the distinct exhaust odor of bituminous coal combustion. The chimney was concealed on the building’s rear side and camouflaged, with smoke dispersing instantly in the storm—nearly undetectable without careful observation.

An Sheng found it ridiculous. What were these people guarding against? Would zombies or mutated creatures care about a smoking chimney? If they were hiding from people, it might work for now, but once the blizzard stopped, wouldn’t it be obvious at a glance? Were these people out of their minds?Actually, that wasn’t really the case. While zombies and mutated creatures wouldn’t care about a smoking chimney, that didn’t mean the Purifiers would ignore it either. It was only because of the raging blizzard that the survivors inside dared to light a fire – under normal circumstances they would never have risked it. This group had already encountered a Purifier once before, though for some reason that Purifier had abandoned the pursuit. But An Sheng didn’t dwell on these details – he’d come specifically to investigate, and he’d find out what was going on once he got inside.

The nearly five-meter-high wall would have been an insurmountable barrier for ordinary people, but for the current An Sheng it was effortless. Taking a few steps back for a running start, he used his momentum to scale the wall in two quick movements. Instead of immediately jumping down, he carefully observed the courtyard for a moment. Only after confirming it was empty did he leap inside.

Using various objects as cover, An Sheng cautiously approached the building, holding his breath to listen for any sounds inside. After about half a minute of complete silence, he grew puzzled. He had clearly seen numerous figures in the courtyard earlier, and the parked vehicles proved the convoy’s people must be here.

Carefully pushing open a window, An Sheng slowly climbed inside. The room remained eerily quiet with no human sounds, though he could distinctly feel warmth radiating from the floor. At first he didn’t think much of it – he’d seen the smoking chimney outside, and floor heating had become common even in rural areas. But when he finished checking the first floor and moved to the second, he found it noticeably colder. This made no sense – floor heating shouldn’t only work on one level. An Sheng was no fool, and he immediately realized there must be something special about this building’s foundation.

As if to confirm his suspicion, two men’s voices suddenly came from the first floor.

“Second Brother, talk to Big Brother tonight, will you? It’s been ages since I’ve had any fun. Look how much supplies I found on this trip – you’ve got to help me release some steam.” The speaker was a tall, weasel-faced man. Hiding in the shadows, An Sheng could see the man carried a rifle on his back by the snow’s reflection.

An Sheng recognized the weapon immediately – it was a Type 95 identical to the one Nie Chong used to carry. But he wasn’t surprised – police special forces had been equipped with Type 95s before the apocalypse, so it wasn’t unusual to see people carrying them now.

The tall man was accompanied by a fatty, the pair’s contrasting heights and builds reminiscent of the Fat and Thin Monks from The Deer and the Cauldron.

The fatty called Second Brother listened to the thin man’s request and leered, giving him a shove before saying: “Hemp Stalk, is your body even up for it? Why are you always thinking about such things? We barely managed to find those few girls in the city – no way Big Brother will let them go. Probably no chance.”

The thin man deflated upon hearing this, complaining: “I don’t mind Big Brother keeping them all to himself, but he’s not young anymore. With five of them, I’m worried he might exhaust himself!””What the hell do you know? Back when I followed the boss working as mercenaries in M country, the boss took on eight guys alone and knocked out half of them without a scratch. Our boss is built like a rock! Stop wasting time. When the boss finishes having his fun, I’ll put in a word for you – you’ll definitely get your share. Now hurry up and get the stuff from the car, I’m freezing to death!”

As he spoke, Fatty started spinning in place and stomping his feet to fight the cold. Only then did An Sheng get a clear look at his face in the snow’s reflection. Suddenly, An Sheng felt the face looked extremely familiar, though he couldn’t immediately recall where he’d seen it. After studying it more carefully, An Sheng lightly slapped his forehead. Wasn’t this the same fat man from the wanted poster displayed at their local police station before the catastrophe? He remembered there was still a copy of that wanted notice in his taxi.

Though he couldn’t recall the fat man’s name, An Sheng clearly remembered his crime. This guy was an international drug trafficker! Standing in the darkness, a famous saying suddenly surfaced in An Sheng’s mind: “The good die young, while the wicked live for a thousand years!”