Chapter Twenty-Three: The Surviving Group (5/5)

“Wow... wow... that's incredible.”
Zhu Liang's eyes widened in shock, his words full of awe. Yang Fan's display was truly astonishing. Previously, Yang Fan had to exert some effort just to deal with a single matriarch zombie, but now, with a single slash, he cut through the matriarch’s flesh and bone. Blood spilled everywhere, heads rolled one after another.
“This is nothing. Zombies are the lowest class of creatures. While there are some powerful ones among them, they are very rare. Our enemies are numerous—the mutated beasts, the insect race, and many other types. With our current strength, we can protect ourselves for a month, but after that, we’ll likely fall behind. If we want to remain at the top, we must keep striving.”
Yang Fan sheathed the Thunderblade and spoke to Zhu Liang.
“I understand,” Zhu Liang replied casually. He couldn’t grasp Yang Fan’s mindset, since he had never experienced the catastrophic disaster of the previous life—a calamity so terrifying that any insectoid could wipe out a horde of humans. They treated humans, zombies, and mutated beasts as food. It was a disaster beyond imagination.
“Let’s go.” The things gained today were priceless. In high spirits, Yang Fan led Zhu Liang away. There were still many treasure chests, though fewer on the playground now, clearly indicating that more humans were finally realizing their predicament.
All along the way, Yang Fan hardly needed to act. Regular zombies no longer yielded much profit, so he allowed Zhu Liang to hone his combat skills. What Zhu Liang lacked now was a job contract; otherwise, mastering a skill wouldn’t be so exhausting.
If a matriarch appeared, Yang Fan would judge the situation: he’d handle the stronger ones himself, and let Zhu Liang tackle the weaker ones. After all, he couldn’t protect Zhu Liang forever, and Zhu Liang understood this, so he would provoke zombies almost without needing Yang Fan’s prompting.
When they were nearly done, Yang Fan returned to the teaching building, where he saw a group of survivors fighting desperately against the zombies.
“Fire Spirit, grant me the power to banish evil!”
A clear voice rang out. Yang Fan and Zhu Liang saw a girl in the corridor, wielding a black staff. Instantly, brilliant flames erupted, incinerating all zombies within two meters.
“A fire mage, not bad,” Yang Fan’s Zombie Eye appraised the girl’s class level.
[Apocalypse System Inheritor]
Constitution: 6
Strength: 8
Agility: 9
Intelligence: 21
Skill: Flame Art
Equipment: Soulbound Iron Staff (Exquisite Black Iron Equipment)
Rating: Grade D
——
She was an apocalypse inheritor. Her stats were ordinary, except for her high intelligence, obviously due to opening a white or black iron chest and acquiring a piece of gear that boosted intelligence.
“Cold Light Sword.”
Zombies kept coming, dying in waves and rising again. The mage retreated a few steps, and immediately a young man wielding a Cold Light Sword appeared. In flashes of white light, four or five zombies who followed had their heads severed.
Then, the last wave surged forward, among them a matriarch. The young man with the Cold Light Sword dispatched two zombies. A girl with a bow suddenly drew and loosed an arrow; the red aura pierced straight through a zombie’s skull, then she fired again, finishing the last regular zombie.

“A-Li!”
At that moment, a tall man—at least six foot three—charged out, his body enveloped in a red aura. Though sparse, controlling it to this degree was already impressive.
“Charge!”
He shouted, sending the matriarch zombie flying ten meters. The young man with the Cold Light Sword instantly appeared, the sword flashing as it stabbed into the matriarch’s head.
All four were apocalypse system inheritors. Behind them followed more than twenty people, men and women alike, most of them ordinary. However, about half held weapons, likely from white or black iron chests.
The group’s coordination was decent. Yang Fan felt no particular familiarity with these four—after all, he spent his previous life fleeing, not getting to know anyone.
“Equipment dropped.”
Suddenly, Zhu Liang spoke behind him, motioning with his lips. Yang Fan followed his gaze and spotted, a few meters away, a shining single-edged blade resting on a dead zombie.
[Black Iron Equipment]
Strong Single-Edged Knife
Sharpness: 8
Effect 1: Increases Strength by 5
Description: A pretty good single-edged knife!
——
In the previous life, this would have fetched 100 apocalypse coins. Yet Yang Fan noticed the group seemed not to have noticed it, gathering together and leaving without a glance.
Either they looked down on it, or simply didn’t want any trouble.
Yang Fan scratched his nose and shrugged helplessly, ignored by the group. He walked over, intending to pick up the blade and hand it to them as a gesture of goodwill. But just as he was about to bend down, a cold sword suddenly flashed toward him.
The sword carried no killing intent, so Yang Fan stood still, neither moving nor dodging.
“Get lost, this belongs to us.”
A cold voice rang out. Yang Fan straightened and looked at the speaker—the young man wielding the Cold Light Sword, about six feet tall, handsome, with a stylish haircut. He looked at Yang Fan with utter disdain, clearly assuming Yang Fan was trying to steal his loot.
The sword hovered before Yang Fan, ready to take his life at any moment. Zhu Liang, knowing Yang Fan’s strength, was unconcerned and walked over, frowning as he tried to recall who the man was.
Some people behind the young man exclaimed in surprise, “It’s the Dean of Discipline!”
“The Dean survived!”
“It really is him!”
They whispered anxiously, the tense atmosphere hinting that a fight could break out at any moment.
“Guo Yu, it’s you.”
The Dean finally remembered who the man was and blurted out his name.

Guo Yu snorted coldly, not even bothering to acknowledge him. Clearly, after obtaining the apocalypse system and a decent weapon, he had become arrogant and dismissive. Yang Fan sneered inwardly.
“Put it down and get lost.”
Guo Yu spoke again, his Cold Light Sword moving threateningly but not with intent to kill—only to intimidate. He had meant to leave, but upon seeing Yang Fan notice the weapon, he assumed Yang Fan was trying to steal it, making him petty and suspicious.
But even if he tried something, it would be useless. Who was Yang Fan? His agility was at 110, eleven times that of a normal person, his reflexes able to outpace Guo Yu by half a beat.
Yang Fan said nothing. Just then, a woman stepped forward, holding a pale blue whip. She was about five foot nine, wearing a white top and denim shorts, her legs flawless and fair, strikingly beautiful.
Her figure was graceful, especially her ample chest. As for her face, Yang Fan scrutinized her—a beauty no less than Bai Su, with a delicate oval face, a lovely nose, and bright, sparkling eyes. Her whole body exuded wild charm, accentuated by the whip—a pure queen type.
“War Goddess candidate discovered. Please claim her, Master.”
The voice of the Spirit of the Beauty Portrait sounded, and the eyes of the portrait flashed. Instantly, a stream of information appeared before Yang Fan.
[Jie Wu]
Type: Queen
Current Appearance: A+
Potential Appearance: SS+
Current Favorability: F (Stranger)
Attitude toward Host: Slightly favorable
Suggestion: Target meets requirements for Beauty Portrait recruitment. Host can choose to accept, recommended approach: stay calm.
——
If this were a city and not the apocalypse, the Beauty Portrait would be a true artifact for wooing women. Yang Fan sighed inwardly.
Then Jie Wu spoke, “Guo Yu, he didn’t mean any harm. Why are you being so aggressive?”
...
(Finally done! Exhausted, another ten thousand words today. Brothers, if you think this is awesome, could you shower me with recommendation votes? We’re already at the top of the previous life rankings, stuck at number 20. Ahead are a bunch of big hitters. Either we retreat now, or we charge forward. There’s no turning back—only relentless effort leads to eternal victory!)