When the apocalypse hit, the world was stripped of its comforts, leaving only the bare minimum for survival. The five boys, led by Zhenghua, stood bare-chested before Qin Cong, their thin frames a stark reminder of the hardship they faced. In this world, no one at the bottom of society could afford to carry extra weight—not when even clean drinking water was a scarce luxury.
"Zhenghua, you go first," Qin Cong instructed as he pulled out a wooden pen, its tip sharp and precise. Unlike metal, wood conducted magical energy more effectively, making it the preferred material for crafting magical tools.
Zhenghua followed Qin Cong's instructions and lay down on the makeshift wooden bed. Qin Cong retrieved a vial of magical beast blood, dipping the pen into the viscous liquid. He began inscribing intricate runes onto Zhenghua's chest, back, arms, and legs. The sharp tip of the pen sliced into skin with each stroke, allowing the blood to seep into the wounds. Though Zhenghua winced, he held still, biting down on his lip to keep from moving.
It was a grueling process. Beads of sweat dripped from Zhenghua's face as Liu Ye, standing nearby, carefully wiped them away to prevent contamination of the blood patterns. Even with Qin Cong's experience and assistance from Zero, completing the blood markings took half an hour.
With the inscriptions done, Qin Cong pressed his hand firmly against Zhenghua's chest and channeled his magical energy, activating the beast blood. The markings glowed faintly, and the magical energy began to seep into Zhenghua's body. The other four boys watched in awe, their gazes fixed on the faint luminescence. This was the moment they had waited for—the transformation.
The process was agonizing. Zhenghua's body turned red-hot, his veins burning as though molten lava coursed through them. He clenched his fists, his muffled groans echoing in the small space. The others stood motionless, fear flickering in their eyes, but none wavered.
The pain finally subsided after five minutes, the relatively low potency of the blood sparing Zhenghua from a worse ordeal. The blood belonged to a D-grade Azure Fang Wolf King, not as potent as higher-grade magical beasts but potent enough to strengthen Zhenghua's frail body.
Once it was over, Zhenghua sat up, his face pale but his expression victorious. He flexed his arms and clenched his fists, feeling the newfound strength surging through him. For the first time in his life, he felt alive.
Zero scanned Zhenghua's body again. His new stats read: **Strength: 2, Agility: 2.1, Constitution: 1.9, Spirit: 1**—a stark improvement, almost double that of a healthy normal human.
The others followed suit. Liu Ye, with his naturally high agility, was infused with Shadow Leopard blood, boosting his stats to **Strength: 1.7, Agility: 2.8, Constitution: 1.7, Spirit: 1**. Zhou Cheng, with his superior strength, received Crescent Bear blood, ending with **Strength: 2.5, Agility: 1.6, Constitution: 2.1, Spirit: 1**. Ji Le used Giant Antlered Deer blood, emerging with balanced stats of **Strength: 1.9, Agility: 2, Constitution: 1.8, Spirit: 1**. Lastly, Han Qi, whose resilience made him ideal for tank roles, was infused with Unicorn Rhino blood, resulting in **Strength: 2.1, Agility: 1.7, Constitution: 2.3, Spirit: 1**.
Each boy took a unique path, shaped by the beast blood chosen for them. Liu Ye's agility would make him a scout or assassin, Zhou Cheng's raw power suited him for front-line combat, and Han Qi's enhanced constitution marked him as a natural tank. Zhenghua's balanced stats and leadership role made him the group's strategist, while Ji Le, with his versatility, could adapt as needed.
As night fell, excitement coursed through the group. They were no longer just orphans scraping by—they had strength, a future, and a leader guiding them forward.
"Qin Cong—no, *Commander*—what's our next step?" Zhenghua asked, his tone filled with newfound respect.
"Call me Commander if you like," Qin Cong replied, smiling faintly. "We're forming a mercenary group. But first, we need resources. We'll kill magical beasts, gather their cores, and earn enough to improve everyone's lives. Once the rest of the kids are strengthened, we'll register as an official mercenary group."
In this apocalyptic world, mercenaries held significant sway. Tasks ranging from hunting beasts to escort missions were handed down by the Mercenary Guild, and they paid well. But registration required a minimum of twenty members, and the orphan group's current size fell short. More importantly, mercenary work wasn't child's play—it was dangerous, deadly even. Qin Cong knew the orphans wouldn't survive without proper preparation.
For now, survival came first. Strength would follow. Then, they'd carve out a place for themselves in a world that had abandoned them.