The sun shone brightly, with not a cloud in sight.
This phrase, which is supposed to describe clear and beautiful weather, was a hellish trial for the creatures in this era.
With temperatures exceeding 50°C and intense sunlight capable of blinding anyone who looked directly at it, the land was being roasted relentlessly.
On a national highway stretching for dozens of kilometers, the once smooth asphalt road had become soft and spongy from the extreme heat, filled with air pockets and melted into primitive asphalt that flowed along the sides of the road.
Walking barefoot on it for just five seconds would make the soles of your feet emit a strong roasted meat smell.
In addition, many rusted and discarded vehicles lay scattered along the roadside, their driver's seats occupied by skeletons that testified to the sudden disaster that struck five years ago. The impact had been so severe that they hadn't had time to brake before crashing into the guardrails, resulting in either death or, for the few survivors, being eaten by the nearby living dead.
At this moment, Xia Leng had layered several homemade heat-insulating plates under his feet as he walked on the road, which emitted a scorching heat like a swamp.
Breathing heavily, he held a water bottle with only one-third of its pure water remaining. He pulled his hood down to shield his eyes from the sun's harmful UV rays.
The difficulties of this journey exceeded his expectations. With food and water dwindling under the intense sun, he had only enough left for half a day's worth.
At this rate, before reaching his first destination, he estimated he would be sun-dried into a desiccated corpse on this road.
The remaining food must be used to maintain his strength for a hunt to support himself until he reaches the next city.
Seeing a van with its front end smashed against the roadside guardrail, Xia Leng pulled open its severely peeling rear door and climbed inside, hoping to rest and escape the scorching sun.
Although the interior of the van was as hot as an oven, breaking all the windows to allow airflow made it much more bearable than standing directly under the sun.
Once inside, Xia Leng noticed two oddly posed skeletons still slumped over the driver and passenger seats. They seemed to have died instantly from the crash, a somewhat merciful end in the chaos.
Xia Leng searched every corner of the van, hoping to find any food to replenish his energy or useful tools, even if they were five years past their expiration date.
As expected, all valuable items and even the clothes the skeletons had worn were scavenged clean by other passing drifters.
Resigned, Xia Leng decided to rest briefly in the van before heading to a small forest nearby to see if he could hunt any small game.
Of course, by "small game," he meant nothing smaller than the size of his arm.
If he encountered a mutated mammal, he would have no choice but to flee on his own.
However, with the special abilities Xia Leng had acquired, he might have a chance to fight back.
Just as he lay down on the van's tattered rear seat, suddenly—
A series of intense roaring sounds came from the road behind!
As the noise grew louder, it became increasingly piercing!
Xia Leng immediately dropped to the floor and quickly closed the open van door to avoid detection.
About half a minute later, the roaring sounds were within a hundred meters of Xia Leng's location.
He recognized it as the sound of motorcycles.
Xia Leng's first instinct was not to seek help from the motorcyclists but to hide as much as possible to avoid being seen.
In the wasteland's harsh rules, encountering a group of people alone often led to a grim fate.
Through a broken rearview mirror, Xia Leng vaguely saw a few burly men wearing sun helmets and punk-style leather jackets, riding retro motorcycles modified from discarded parts, approaching rapidly.
Their clothing was adorned with thick iron chains that clinked and clattered against each other as they bounced on the motorcycles.
To prevent their wheels from becoming unusable on the nearly melted asphalt, they had also installed metal tracks on the tires, reducing contact with the scorching road.
Xia Leng gripped his dagger tightly with one hand while his other hand rested on the crossbow trigger he had obtained from the leader, aimed at the window.
If they discovered him first, Xia Leng would not hesitate to pull the trigger and secure the first blood.
These individuals were likely part of a self-organized gang of apocalypse bikers, akin to the motorcycle gangs of the old world, relying on preying on solitary drifters for survival.
From the modified high-powered shotguns strapped to their waists, it was clear they had no qualms about violence.
As the gang approached, Xia Leng's emotions calmed, and he began to devise multiple strategies to deal with them.
Fortunately, the van he was in, compared to other scrapped vehicles around, did not stand out, so it did not attract their attention.
After the gang sped past, raising dust as they went, Xia Leng breathed a sigh of relief, feeling an odd sense of regret.
He waited briefly in the van to ensure no more gangs were coming, then decided to continue his journey.
According to the wasteland map, there was an old-era gas station about ten kilometers ahead.
It was said to be within the territory of the Komodo Mercenary Company and had been converted into a wasteland bar, where he could also replenish some food and water, although it would be costly.
In Xia Leng's backpack, there was also a small bag filled with crystals, obtained from the leader's room.
These were ordinary crystals from small mutated creatures and not very valuable, but they were enough to refill his water bottle.
Since being infected by the "Black Light Virus," Xia Leng's body required more calories. What used to last him two days now barely lasted a single day.
Moreover, after experiencing the absorption of the blue crystal from the previous leader, Xia Leng tried with the crystals from the bag.
As soon as he placed them in his hand, they were instantly enveloped by the extending tendrils from his palm and disappeared.
However, this time, they did not grant him any new abilities, perhaps because they were too low-grade.
After checking his gear again, Xia Leng resumed his perilous journey.