"Captain, how about a bet? Let's see how many people from the scavenger team will make it back this time."
At the heavily guarded entrance of the Komodo Bastion, a few sentries were idly handling their weapons. The monotony of their watch was making their shift seem unbearable.
Only members of such large corporations could afford the luxury of boredom, while the other scavengers in the wastelands were busy struggling to survive, battling beasts and scavenging for food.
They were even hoping for a monster siege, as their heavy anti-material sniper rifles were eager for action.
To pass the time, the guards decided to bet on how many members of the scavenger team sent to hunt the undead would return. The wager was the personal allocation of alcohol provided by the company.
Previously, several scavenger teams had ventured into the Dead Man's Street to hunt the undead.
But most had returned in tragic defeat, some with the entire team wiped out.
Only a few exceptional purifiers managed to return safely with gray crystals, and these skilled individuals were granted entry to the bastion.
"This team has two purifiers, doesn't it? As long as they don't have internal conflicts, they're the only ones likely to come back. I'll bet on the last skinny young man making it back," said the burly guard captain, leaning against the wall, lazily smoking. He pulled out two more cigarettes from his pocket as part of the bet and tossed them to his subordinates.
Upon seeing the cigarettes, the guards' eyes lit up. In the apocalypse, cigarettes were even more valuable than alcohol, and only high-ranking officers received them—ordinary people rarely had a chance to smoke.
"Captain, are you really betting on that pretty boy? He doesn't look like a purifier at all," one of the guards asked, puzzled.
"Hmph, fool. Do you only see purifiers? And true power is not so easily discernible. The only ones who boast about being apocalypse warriors and hunters are those whose limits are already set," the captain, a tier-three strength-type apocalypse warrior, scolded his subordinates. He thought of the young man's indifferent eyes and sensed that he was not a simple person.
The captain was curious as to why the young man was hiding his true strength.
Even a tier-three purifier could only hold a security captain position in the bastion, illustrating the high power ceiling within the mercenary companies.
Just then, as the guards grew increasingly irritable in the heat, a shadowy figure appeared in the heat-distorted road ahead!
It was Xia Leng, dressed in a black hooded sweatshirt, expressionless, and walking steadily towards the bastion's gate!
The guards were astonished to see the young man they had underestimated, seemingly unscathed. Was he so scared that he had fled halfway and returned alone?
"Hey, why are you the only one back? Where are the others? And where are the two purifiers from the team?" one guard asked with a smirk, ready to mock this cowardly survivor.
In response, Xia Leng threw a dark gray crystal at them.
The guard instinctively caught the gray crystal and realized it was the kind found only in the brains of mutated undead!
He examined the crystal under the sunlight, even almost biting it, confirming its authenticity by color and texture.
"Don't bother examining it. If it were a fake, it wouldn't fool your company's eye. As for the others, they're probably now just waste inside the undead's bellies," Xia Leng replied calmly.
"You're just a wasteland merchant. How could you complete the task that even two purifiers couldn't?" the guard continued, still curious. Regardless, Xia Leng had brought back the crystal, so he would be allowed into the bastion.
"Hmph, do you think I'd dare to trade alone in the wasteland without some skill? I, a tier-two apocalypse hunter, can easily take down ten of you ordinary folks," Xia Leng sneered, implying that he was indeed a purifier.
A tier-two purifier was in a high but not the highest tier in the bastion company, yet still an impressive figure to ordinary people.
The guard, realizing Xia Leng was a tier-two purifier and recognizing its truth, dared not question further.
Entering the bastion would allow Xia Leng to easily find a well-paying mercenary job or even a minor position within the company.
Given his youth and the fact that he was already a tier-two purifier, his future potential was immense, possibly even becoming a superior in the future.
The guards' attitude towards Xia Leng immediately shifted, welcoming him with smiles and opening the way into the bastion.
However, they were internally pained since only the captain won the bet…
His judgment was always so sharp.
The guard captain, who had not spoken to Xia Leng until now, smiled as he watched him. It seemed the young man's success in the task was within his expectations.
"Congratulations, young man. You've become a member of our Komodo Bastion. I didn't expect you to be a tier-two purifier at such a young age. Your future is bright."
As Xia Leng passed by the captain, the captain greeted him with a smile.
"Thanks. By the way, I'd like to ask you about a place. Is that convenient?" Xia Leng responded with a smile, but internally, he was fuming, wishing he could devour the purifier before him.
"Sure, if I know, I'd be happy to tell you."
The captain approached and tossed another cigarette to Xia Leng.
Xia Leng accepted it, savoring the rare "resource," lighting it with his long-used windproof lighter, taking a deep breath of the familiar smoke, and exhaling slowly.
"Do you know a place called the Cold and Damp Land?"