Su Chen's swift and lethal movements sent shockwaves through the air. He swiftly dispatched the talented individual, draining his energy without hesitation. Lifting the lifeless body, a dark and ominous shadow cast beneath the desolate sky. In a thunderous crash, the second victim met a similar fate, their body torn asunder, blood staining the surroundings.
Within a mere ten seconds, Su Chen had claimed seven lives. Some attempted to react, firing their weapons at the terrifying shadow before them, but their efforts were in vain against Su Chen's impervious armor. They, too, fell victim to his deadly prowess. The once-arrogant motorcycle gang crumbled beneath the weight of their fear. Some fled in terror, while others, consumed by madness, approached Su Chen with deranged laughter, seeking their own demise. Among them was another talented individual, defying gravity as he flipped his motorcycle. Soaring through the air with seemingly effortless grace, he was overtaken by Su Chen from behind and swiftly dispatched.
However, Su Chen couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. The two talented individuals he had eliminated possessed low levels of energy, barely enough to sustain his relentless assault. He had yet to receive any significant energy replenishment, left only with a meager unit.
Su Chen chose not to pursue those who had managed to escape. His limited energy reserves and the absence of a reliable energy source hindered his ability to chase them down. He needed to strategize carefully, especially when it came to dealing with Qiao Zheng by his side.
Just as Su Chen intended to return to the bus behind him, his gaze suddenly sharpened, catching sight of something amiss. In an instant, he launched himself skyward, soaring towards the rear of the convoy, chasing after a suspicious figure skulking through an alleyway.
A group of people huddled within that alley.
They appeared distinct from the motorcycle thugs encountered earlier. Most were in their thirties and forties, a diverse mix armed with an array of guns and weapons.
Su Chen's instincts kicked in, his reaction instantaneous.
This was yet another group of survivors, waiting in the shadows, hoping to capitalize on the clash between the motorcycle gang and Su Chen's team. Their plan was simple—to exploit the chaos and seize the spoils. With supermarket supplies either corroded by the epidemic or already claimed by other survivors, the act of preying upon fellow human beings had become a lucrative means of survival. While it had been a mere jest before the world's end, now, in the face of disaster, some were forced to abandon their principles, resorting to desperate measures to secure their own existence. Survival became a ruthless game where morality blurred, and the line between right and wrong grew faint. Some resorted to robbery, while others embraced extreme violence.
Su Chen's fleet, though not substantial, appeared vulnerable, lacking a sizable military presence to safeguard their interests. They resembled fat lambs ready for the slaughter, an irresistible temptation to those seeking easy prey.
Yet, this particular survivor group consisted mostly of untalented individuals, lacking the advantages possessed by Su Chen and his team. How could they even fathom robbing those who held such extraordinary abilities?
The wretched figure Su Chen pursued had been keeping a keen lookout. Sensing imminent danger, they swiftly attempted to flee. Panic etched across their pale face as Su Chen closed in, their stuttering words barely escaping their trembling lips, "Y-y-you... d-don't chase... I-I'm... a talented person..."
Before the person could finish their sentence, they activated their abilities, desperately attempting to evade capture.
Su Chen remained ever vigilant, his instincts honed by countless battles. As the stuttering figure activated their abilities, a surge of peculiar dark energy emanated from their body. Though feeble, it pierced through Su Chen's defenses, snaking its way towards his vulnerable mind. Acting swiftly, he marshaled the energy reserves within him, encasing the intruding dark energy and forcefully expelling it from his body.
To his surprise, the expulsion took an unexpected turn. Rather than simply repelling the invader, his own energy enveloped and redirected it, hurtling it back towards the stuttering individual. The person stumbled backward several meters, a mixture of surprise and confusion etched on their face. "How... how are you unharmed?" they stammered.
Before they could comprehend the situation, the expelled energy crashed back into their own body. A piercing scream erupted from their lips as they clutched their head, their face draining of color. Without looking back, they sprinted into the midst of their companions, seeking solace from the two figures who seemed to be the leaders of the group.
Among the leaders, one sported a burly physique and a beard, while the other exuded a gentler aura. The occupants of the alley, initially contemplating a desperate fight to the death, were momentarily paralyzed by Su Chen's sudden descent. Gripping their firearms tightly, they dared not even take a breath.
In the crowd, the two leaders exchanged worried glances.
The bearded man's complexion paled further. They had intended to play the role of opportunistic hunters, but they never anticipated the presence of such a formidable individual within this seemingly unremarkable convoy. Not only had this mysterious figure single-handedly dispatched the audacious motorcycle gang, but now they had descended upon them with earth-shattering force.
He cast a questioning gaze at the stuttering individual who had returned. "What happened? Wasn't your ability supposed to be effective? Even the most resolute opponents should have faltered under your attack. How could it have failed against a mere human?"
The stuttering individual, pale and stammering, replied, "I... I don't know... My ability should have worked perfectly. But when I attacked him, it felt like I was the one being struck, and my mind..."
A grim expression settled on the bearded man's face, realizing the gravity of their predicament. Offending such a formidable person, capable of demonstrating both unfathomable speed and overwhelming impact, was akin to inviting death. Fortunately, they had refrained from taking any decisive action, lurking on the periphery like cautious cats. There might still be a chance to turn the tables.
The gentle man interjected in a hushed tone, "Look over there..."
Responding to the prompt, the bearded leader raised his gaze, his eyes widening in astonishment.
As soon as he landed, the figure cloaked in black exuded an air of unwavering confidence, his piercing gaze sweeping across the battlefield. Not a soul dared to step forward, held captive by the brilliance of the fiery sword gripped firmly in his hand. Yet, amidst this display of dominance, one detail caught their attention—the small power bank, inconspicuously retrieved from his arsenal, emitting a faint glow as if it were in active use.
Could it be that his equipment was not depleted?
No... impossible...
Without a steady supply of electricity, such a devastating show of force would have been unattainable. Charging his suit in the presence of their watchful eyes seemed inconceivable. This was not merely a demonstration of power, but a calculated act of intimidation and coercion.
And the implications were staggering. What level of technological advancement would allowed a humble power bank to directly replenish the suit's capabilities?
A myriad of emotions flickered across the face of their leader—surprise, apprehension, and a gnawing sense of vulnerability. Swiftly regaining composure, he plastered a forced smile on his lips and spoke, his voice laced with a hint of unease, "Brother, my apologies for the misunderstanding. We chanced upon your skirmish with those insignificant pests and thought we could lend a hand. Little did we anticipate your formidable prowess, rendering our intervention unnecessary...haha...hahaha... It's truly a relief to see you unharmed. We shall take our leave now, if you don't object..."
Beneath the veneer of camaraderie, an undercurrent of tension remained, a testament to the precariousness of their situation.