Chereads / Apocalyptic Virus Entity / Chapter 17 - Chapter 17: A Little Incident

Chapter 17 - Chapter 17: A Little Incident

The man stood over two meters tall, his upper body bulging with muscles that seemed ready to burst through his black shirt at any moment. His face was adorned with a well-groomed beard, and his wild, rugged features made him resemble a fierce character straight out of Water Margin, like Li Kui!

"What do you think you're doing?"

When the burly man spoke, his voice boomed like thunder, overpowering the pulsating music in the dance hall and causing the ears of those around him to ache.

The member of the gang with the broken wrist, perhaps spurred on by the pain and adrenaline, lost all reason and screamed at the man who was as strong as an ox.

"Fuck you! Who the hell do you think you are! My hand—"

Before he could finish spewing all the curses from his throat, the bearded giant swung his massive, fan-like hand, slapping the man's face with a force that stirred up a gust of wind.

Bang!

The heavy thud echoed as the gang member felt like he had been hit by a speeding train. He was sent flying like a kite with its string cut, smashing into the wall with a loud crash before slumping to the ground, twitching slightly, with blood and other fluids seeping from his orifices—his condition unclear.

Seeing what happened to their companion, the others quickly snapped back to their senses. This size, this strength—it was clear this was a second-tier or higher strength-enhanced "Baptized" individual, a post-apocalyptic warrior!

Realizing this, the remaining two gang members hurriedly grabbed their comrade, who had been left petrified by Summer's glare, and bolted out of the bar, not even caring about their other fallen comrades.

The one whose arm had been gripped by Summer and was now stuck in the backpack was in such excruciating pain that his face had turned red; he was on the verge of begging for mercy.

The bearded man quickly grasped the situation. "Oh, so you're just some petty thieves, huh? Didn't you see the rules painted on the wall outside?"

His expression darkened, making him look even more intimidating, like a demon from the underworld.

In reality, the rules outside the bar were not written in words but were depicted through an abstract graffiti art. If you didn't look closely for a few minutes, you wouldn't even be able to tell that the graffiti depicted something gruesome. Most would think it was just a painting of scrambled eggs with tomatoes...

As for how they dealt with petty thieves, the punishment was simple: they would "disable" the tools used for stealing.

Without a word, the bearded man pulled out a nearly meter-long thick-bladed knife from who-knows-where and, without hesitation, swung it down at the gang member's arm that was stuck in the backpack!

Crack!

Cutting through the tough arm bone was as easy as slicing through sugar cane for the bearded man.

After a moment of numb shock, the pain signals finally reached the gang member's brain, and he let out a heart-wrenching scream of despair.

Blood spurted from the severed limb like a fountain, splattering on the ground and the bar counter, causing the other bartenders to frown. The boss had just increased their workload...

"Toss these two pieces of trash into the infection zone," the bearded man ordered as he wiped the still-warm blood off the blade using the now helpless thief's body. He then sheathed the weapon behind his back.

One thief was left half-dead, the other in a state worse than death; both were dragged out by the bartenders. The other patrons were so used to such scenes that it didn't disrupt their activities—dancing, drinking, life went on.

Just then, the bartender who had exchanged pure water for the yellow magazine returned from the back with two full water bottles, freezing at the sight. He had only been gone for a few minutes, and already a fight had broken out?

"Sir, were you frightened by those guys? It was my mistake to let them in. My name is Reno; I'm the manager of this bar."

Reno, the bearded man, noticed Summer sitting still and assumed he was in shock. Apologetically, he reached out to grab the severed hand still stuck in Summer's backpack to throw it away.

But as he pulled it out, he noticed something unusual—the wrist had a dark ring around it, as if it had been crushed!

It looked like the wrist had been squeezed so hard that the flesh around it had already started to decay!

"Oh? Sir, are you also a Baptized?"

Reno inspected the blackened wrist without any hesitation, noticing that even the wrist bone seemed partially crushed. There was no way an ordinary person could possess such strength!

However, Reno was a bit puzzled. If this young man was a strength-enhanced Baptized like himself, shouldn't he be more muscular? This youth seemed too slender...

Of course, one couldn't generalize. Otherwise, all those with brain-enhanced abilities would have heads as big as aliens...

"I'm not. Maybe his hand was already like that," Summer replied calmly, his expression unchanged. In truth, he wanted to act scared to make the man believe he was just an ordinary person.

But his personality had always been like this; he couldn't fake it even if he tried.

Reno, sensing that the young man was trying to avoid the topic, didn't press further.

"Yang Wei, get this gentleman a drink to calm his nerves. I have other matters to attend to. Enjoy your drink, sir."

"Understood! Boss, take care!"

The bearded giant patted Summer on the shoulder before leaving.

When Summer heard the bartender's name, Yang Wei, who had exchanged pure water for his magazine, he couldn't help but twitch his lips slightly.

Soon after, a small glass filled with a clear liquid that gave off a rich aroma was placed before him. This was a shot of baijiu, a spirit distilled from multiple times the amount of grain from the old world.

Though it was just a small glass, it was worth as much as a whole water bottle of pure water.

Summer didn't hesitate. He picked up the glass and downed the precious liquid, feeling a warm sensation flow from his throat to his stomach, spreading throughout his body.

Although he wasn't a heavy drinker, he wouldn't refuse any food that could provide him with energy.

He then packed the two water-filled bottles into his backpack and left the bar.

Such tempting places had never been his dream destinations.

Summer looked ahead at the endless road distorted by the scorching sun, pulled down his black hood, forgot about this little incident, and resumed his journey.

Just then, not far behind, three gang members armed with shotguns sat on motorcycles, glaring at him with hatred as he gradually left the bar's territory...