Industrial Park.
A vast and expansive cold storage warehouse.
At this moment.
Several semi-trailer trucks are parked by the roadside, lined up in a long procession.
Meanwhile, workers operate forklifts, tirelessly unloading box after box of freshly slaughtered and frozen meats, moving them from the truck beds into the cold storage.
"These are pork, stack them over there."
"The beef and lamb can be placed together, but they must be clearly distinguishable at a glance."
"The chicken, duck, and fish must be neatly categorized and stacked properly."
Inside the cold storage, the air is filled with the sound of instructions.
The workers are efficiently organizing thousands of tons of various frozen meats into neat piles.
The one giving orders is Zhang Yang.
Zhang Yang is tall, with strikingly handsome features—sharp brows and bright eyes, dressed impeccably, as though sculpted by a master artist, exuding an aura of exceptional refinement.
It is he who has spent tens of millions purchasing these fresh meats from major meat distributors.
Unnoticed by others, as he gazes at the towering piles of meat and barrels of blood, Zhang Yang quietly swallows and a flicker of longing flashes in his eyes.
The reason for his "extravagance" becomes clear.
In the corner of his vision, there is a semi-transparent countdown panel:
[7 days until the apocalypse]
[Mutation Probability: 100%]
[Hint: For you, a zombie who retains some intelligence, blood and flesh are the best nourishment. The more you consume, the stronger you become, even evolving into the Zombie King!]
Initially, Zhang Yang dismissed it as a hallucination, but as the countdown ticks away, he is now certain—it is not an illusion.
The apocalypse is truly imminent!
And he will undoubtedly become a bloodthirsty zombie!
Zhang Yang is an orphan.
His parents, top-tier biologists, tragically died in a horrific experimental accident when he was very young.
He was kindly adopted by a wealthy old man who raised him.
Three months ago, the wealthy man passed away from late-stage cancer, leaving all his fortune to Zhang Yang, including tens of millions in cash and a significant shareholding in a publicly traded conglomerate worth billions.
But now, with the end of the world approaching, no amount of wealth will save him—it will all turn to waste in a day.
And Zhang Yang is destined to become a zombie.
So why not convert all his money into blood and flesh, stockpiling it for the apocalypse, and devour it to quickly ascend to the throne of the Zombie King?
Without hesitation, Zhang Yang decided to act.
He spent every penny he had on purchasing large quantities of meat.
He even borrowed tens of millions more from the bank, high-interest lenders, and friends and family, to buy more and more blood and flesh.
According to the panel, blood and flesh are crucial to zombies.
Not only do they serve as food, but they can also be transformed into pure energy, driving the zombie's evolution, awakening new abilities, and gaining immense strength!
A zombie with an abundance of flesh to consume could reach terrifying heights.
Thus, Zhang Yang's goal is singular:
To stockpile vast quantities of supplies, devour tons of flesh once the apocalypse arrives, and become the ultimate Zombie King!
Over an hour later, the transportation of thousands of tons of various meats is finally complete.
At this point,
A middle-aged man with slicked-back hair and gold-rimmed glasses, dressed in a sharp suit, walked over with a smile.
"Ha ha, Young Master Zhang, all the goods you ordered have been unloaded. Here's the receipt, please sign it, and there's also the remaining balance..."
Zhang Yang took the receipt and signed it without hesitation.
He responded somewhat displeased at the reminder:
"Pay one-third of the deposit now, the rest of the balance will be paid in full a month later. Are you afraid I can't come up with the money?"
"Of course not!"
The manager, Mr. Xu, quickly waved his hands.
Though he held the title of manager, he was really just a high-ranking employee working under the boss.
He couldn't afford to offend someone like Zhang Yang—someone truly wealthy and powerful.
So he kept smiling and fawning.
Zhang Yang didn't mind.
After all, he had no intention of paying the remaining balance.
With the apocalypse coming in seven days, let them come and demand payment if they can!
In fact, Zhang Yang could triple the amount of meat he'd bought by operating this way!
So,
He instructed further:
"Mr. Xu, bring me another ten thousand tons of fresh meat and blood, and I'll pay in installments again."
"Of course, of course! I'll take care of it right away!"
Upon hearing this, Mr. Xu's attitude became even more obsequious, eagerly following the truck convoy, imagining how happy he would be once he received his commission and could afford to buy a car and house.
Zhang Yang scanned his surroundings.
Seeing no one nearby, he walked into the warehouse filled with frozen and fresh meats, as well as barrels of blood, and shut the door behind him.
When he emerged again,
All the meat and blood that had been piled up so high had vanished.
It wasn't that they had disappeared into thin air—Zhang Yang had stored them in his panel's storage space.
The storage space was not large, only about one kilometer in length, width, and height, with a total volume of one billion cubic meters.
What mattered, however, was that time stood still inside.
In other words, whatever state items are placed in, they remain in that exact state, always fresh.
This fact gave Zhang Yang the confidence to stockpile vast quantities of fresh blood and meat.
However,
No matter how much money one has, it cannot withstand such extravagant spending.
After all that buying, even billions in cash had dwindled to almost nothing.
Looking at his phone, now showing only a three-digit balance,
Zhang Yang felt troubled and unconsciously rubbed his nose.
"Where can I find more cash?"
Suddenly,
Out of the corner of his eye,
Zhang Yang spotted a brand-new Maybach pulling up in front of him.
A well-dressed, irate middle-aged man, accompanied by a lawyer, angrily got out of the car and stormed toward him, shouting furiously:
"Zhang Yang, have you lost your mind? In just a few days, you've squandered all the inheritance your uncle left for you?"
"I also heard you borrowed large sums of money from several lenders and spent it all on meat?"
"Zhang Yang, Zhang Yang, I really don't know what you're thinking!"
The man, yelling at Zhang Yang, was Wang Dali, his third uncle.
Though he appeared to care deeply for Zhang Yang, even managing the family business for him, Zhang Yang knew better.
Wang Dali had no good intentions.
His so-called management of the shares and business was just a façade.
In reality, he had been systematically siphoning off Zhang Yang's inheritance bit by bit, using various means like losses and financing to take control of the assets for himself.
Wang Dali's scolding was not out of concern, but because he thought Zhang Yang was squandering his money.
Having no connections or influence, Zhang Yang had been struggling to find a way to deal with his treacherous uncle.
But now,
It seemed as if fortune had smiled upon him.
Zhang Yang's eyes gleamed.
A better plan for dealing with his unwitting benefactor was quickly forming in his mind…