Xia Leng looked at the dozens of deformed refugees blocking the entrance.
He quietly tightened his grip on the newly acquired dagger at his waist, his gaze turning cold.
Were these people trying to avenge the leader he had just killed?
He wondered if the new abilities he had just obtained would be enough to fend off an attack from all these people at once...
As Xia Leng drew his dagger, preparing to kill the largest and most muscular refugee in front of him to intimidate the others...
Thud!
Suddenly, all the deformed refugees at the entrance unexpectedly dropped to their knees!
Some were fully prostrate, others trembling uncontrollably, and some even held out disgusting food offerings to him. They all seemed utterly terrified of Xia Leng.
Seeing this, Xia Leng quickly understood.
He had killed the leader who was like a god to them, so now they were trying to make him their new god, elevating him to the position of leader of this refugee camp.
"Your Majesty... please accept our offerings and lead us to survive on this wasteland!"
An old, hideous man tremblingly held out a piece of rotting, unrecognizable meat to Xia Leng, his body prostrated in complete submission.
King?
Xia Leng scoffed at the ancient term, having no interest in wasting his time on these doomed deformed refugees.
He had grown accustomed to being a loner over the years, needing neither subordinates nor companions.
After all, there was always the risk that in times of extreme food shortages, these so-called loyal followers would rise up and betray him while he slept, taking everything he had.
So, with a cold expression, Xia Leng stepped over the prostrate refugees, not even bothering to kill them to eliminate future threats.
These refugees, whose minds were as twisted as their bodies, had no thoughts of revenge.
Their only concerns were how to fill their bellies, how to live longer, and how to snatch food from others.
"Make that guy your leader."
Xia Leng pointed to the tall, thin man who had been cowering in fear, originally a lackey of the leader.
The thin man, hearing that this terrifying figure wasn't going to kill him, began to kowtow frantically, thanking Xia Leng for sparing his life.
He continued until his forehead was bleeding, but when he finally looked up, the cold, indifferent man had already disappeared...
...
...
"The Land of Corpse Chill... what kind of place has a name like that?"
Xia Leng pulled up the black hood woven by the virus, blending seamlessly into the dark, ruined surroundings.
After leaving the refugee camp, he found another somewhat sturdy abandoned house to rest in.
It was still nighttime, with no end in sight. Even high-level "Baptized" individuals couldn't guarantee their safety in the dark wilderness.
Moreover, the coordinates calling to him in his mind seemed far away, so rushing blindly towards them was unwise.
Xia Leng decided to wait until the next daylight before embarking on a long journey.
Though he had no idea when daylight would come.
Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps in half a month, or maybe never...
So far, no institution had been able to predict the changes between day and night.
Day and night alternated erratically, without any discernible pattern, much like an old Sichuan opera master, Sun Xiaochuan, who could change faces at will.
Similarly, the four seasons—spring, summer, autumn, and winter—no longer followed any logic.
About two years ago, there was an extreme weather event where the temperature suddenly dropped to -40°C, with snow carrying infectious elements falling for two months straight!
The already harsh living conditions of the refugees became even more deadly, with many freezing to death or being severely frostbitten.
But just as the survivors were starting to adapt to this deadly cold, the long-absent sun suddenly reappeared in the sky, baking the earth with temperatures over 50°C for an entire month...
The sudden switch between extreme cold and scorching heat nearly wiped out the entire biosphere, including the remaining survivors. Xia Leng had fallen seriously ill during that time, nearly dying from a high fever.
However, those who survived the extreme weather finally mastered and adapted to this post-apocalyptic environment.
But they also became more primitive, brutal, and savage. In their struggle to survive, morality, ethics, and dignity were all thrown out the window...
Xia Leng leaned against the wall, crouching in a corner of the room, his eyes blankly staring at the eerie blood moon hanging in the night sky.
He wasn't thinking about why the world had suddenly become so broken.
Instead, he was pondering how to live longer with these new abilities and wondering about his origins...
As he thought, sleep gradually overtook him. The high-alert hunting he had been doing just to fill his stomach had kept him awake for days.
In the depths of his mind, the fragmented memories from his past haunted his thoughts, lulling him to sleep.
For the first time in five years, Xia Leng slept soundly, falling into a deep sleep. His breathing became steady, and he even neglected to set up his usual traps before dozing off.
Xia Leng slept deeply, but his body did not rest. The Blacklight virus, fused with his brain, began to work furiously, centering on his mind!
Like a disciplined, well-trained army, the virus marched through his muscles, organs, and even his blood vessels, devouring all pathogens, weak cells, and other waste along the way!
Simultaneously, a filthy mist began to seep out from Xia Leng's pores, condensing into droplets that dripped to the floor.
His entire body was undergoing a self-cleansing process!
Even the terrifying ten-centimeter-long centipede-like scar on his back was gradually covered by new layers of skin, eventually disappearing completely. His new skin was as smooth and white as jade...
Throughout this entire process, Xia Leng remained in a deep sleep, completely unaware of the changes happening to his body.
At that moment, a pile of broken bricks in one corner of the room began to stir slightly, accompanied by faint creaking noises!
Two tiny red dots, about the size of mung beans, emerged from the gaps between the bricks, fixing their gaze on the man asleep in the corner.
Creak, creak~~
The red dots crawled out—it was a mutated spiked rat nearly as thick as an arm!
With a body larger than an old-world cat, razor-sharp teeth dripping with venomous saliva, claws capable of easily tearing through flesh, and a tail covered in spines, this was the "house rat" of the new era!
Moreover, spiked rats were pack hunters, never hunting with fewer than ten of their kind.
And Xia Leng, right now, was asleep in one of their nests...