Chapter Twenty-Eight: A New Member (1/5)

Inside the room, Chen Ming was endlessly expressing his gratitude. Zhu Liang, unaware of Chen Ming’s significance, simply smoked and said, “The worst student in the whole school, yet always acing mathematics. He once participated in a national-level arcane competition and ranked in the top three. When we asked him why, he said the first place was a girl—he felt embarrassed to beat her. He thought second place was ‘too silly,’ so he won third. Everyone in the academic office was both infuriated and amused by him.”

Zhu Liang spoke cheerfully, and Chen Ming scratched his head, smiling awkwardly. Yang Fan couldn’t help but laugh as well; it was unexpected that Chen Ming possessed such talent—a mathematical prodigy. To think, mathematics, physics, and chemistry are all profoundly difficult subjects, and math enthusiasts sometimes become obsessed, as their world is simply a manifestation of numbers.

“What are you planning to do now?” This was not Yang Fan’s question, but Zhu Liang’s. He knew Yang Fan wouldn’t save someone without reason, so he deduced that this person must have some value, which prompted his inquiry.

Chen Ming didn’t know what he wanted to do; he just wanted to survive. Though a little slow, he wasn’t stupid—in fact, he was rather clever. Seeing the situation, he immediately said, “Let me join you. Please? I’ll absolutely obey every arrangement of the organization!”

He was still unclear about the nature of the world, but just recently, a majestic voice had sounded deep within him, proclaiming the world had changed, that humanity was facing the apocalypse. That was why he spoke as he did.

Zhu Liang immediately put on an awkward expression, looking at Yang Fan. Seeing Zhu Liang’s expression, Yang Fan increasingly felt that Zhu Liang was shrewd and cunning. He obviously knew Yang Fan’s intentions, but feigned reluctance, wanting to suppress Chen Ming and make him realize joining their team wouldn’t be easy. Thus, if Yang Fan agreed, Chen Ming would be immensely grateful.

“I’m afraid it won’t work, Captain. Our team is nearly full; the other members are still training. If we add another…” Zhu Liang sounded resolute, causing the inexperienced Chen Ming to panic.

“I can help with anything! I can do laundry, cook—anything at all!”

Chen Ming quickly listed his remaining skills, desperately pleading with the two to take him in. He didn’t want to live a life chased by zombies anymore; that would be worse than death. Yet he didn’t want to die either, trapped in conflicting thoughts.

Finally, Chen Ming dropped to his knees, tears and snot smearing the hems of their pants, begging desperately, as if to say, “If you don’t take me, I’ll die right here.”

Yang Fan knew the prelude had been sufficiently played; at last, he appeared reluctantly to accept Chen Ming. The latter howled with joy, thanking him profusely, treating Yang Fan like an ancestor and speaking with utmost respect, not realizing that Yang Fan’s heart was brimming with laughter.

Despite this, Yang Fan showed no outward smile, remaining stern and instructing Chen Ming to settle down. After all, this was the apocalypse—even with his strength, a horde of zombies could still pose a problem.

After returning to the checkpoint, Yang Fan’s personality had changed greatly. In the previous life, he’d been timid for a month, but after witnessing and enduring so much, he learned one thing: never hesitate. He was now following this principle, gradually transforming.

Kindness invites exploitation; docility invites bullying—these truths Yang Fan hadn’t understood before, but after that brutal month, he comprehended them fully.

Yang Fan now was cautious, reserved, and though he could plan ahead, he never trusted plans entirely. Not completely mature, but able to see through many things at a glance.

At this point, Chen Ming and Zhu Liang originally intended to rest, but Yang Fan denied their request. First, Chen Ming hadn’t opened his box, nor had the girls depicted in the Maiden Scroll. The first task was to locate the boxes, then rest.

However, the Maiden Scroll had transmitted information: each newcomer had already been given a silver-level box, meaning Liu Qiao Qiao and the others had each received a silver treasure chest. This surprised Yang Fan; during the initial distribution, silver chests weren’t rare but weren’t common either.

The Maiden Scroll had the ability to autonomously distribute rewards, which amazed Yang Fan.

This meant he could avoid the time spent searching for silver-level boxes. After considering, Yang Fan decided to let Zhu Liang and Chen Ming rest properly, since Chen Ming hadn’t awakened his system yet—it would take some time.

Thus, the three began to rest in shifts. Chen Ming and Zhu Liang each slept for a full day and night, clearly exhausted. Yang Fan guarded them, assessing the future. With his skills and equipment, Yang Fan was confident that within the next month, as long as he didn’t encounter second-tier silver-level aberrant beasts or insectoids, all would be well.

Even if he did, his own techniques would suffice.

Yang Fan decided not to venture out for now, planning to wait until five days later when his checkpoint skill could be used again before setting out. This was the best guarantee. The checkpoint skill would, in future, randomly return him to the past; the first time, he could choose the day, but afterwards it would be random—seven days ago, ten days ago, perhaps three or twenty days prior.

During this period, aside from the necessary search for water resources, the three never left.

Over these days, little happened. The zombies in the school had almost all wandered outside, as there were few survivors left. Yang Fan gazed at the sky, as if he could see swarming insectoids, or aberrant beasts—fiery birds, corrosive sky worms, amethyst armor-breakers, or flame artillery beasts.

On the ground, massive demonic rats ran amok, hundreds rampaging like people—stone men, even goblins and catwomen from games, and other aberrant beasts, whether from human imagination or with a scientific basis.

Humanity’s future was shrouded in darkness.

Yang Fan worried...

On the seventh day, once the checkpoint skill reset, Yang Fan immediately chose to save his progress, then left the place with Zhu Liang and Chen Ming...

(How should I put it? Eating sunflower seeds truly makes me uncomfortable. Over these four days, I’ve updated seventy thousand words. I’m a typical clumsy writer—one thousand words an hour is sometimes impossible. I write at least seven or eight hours a day; now my head aches, my body feels ill, and I walk with a dizzy feeling. Cigarettes, one after another, just to squeeze out plot ideas. Brothers in the group ask, why work so hard? Indeed, why? Others get by with six thousand words, even three thousand, but I feel that three or six thousand would be letting down your recommendations, clicks, and favorites. But today, I truly must apologize. Mid-Autumn Festival—I didn’t visit family, instead opened my computer and kept writing. I sent “Happy Mid-Autumn” in the group, but afterward it was all quiet; everyone went to celebrate, and I felt like a helpless person, holed up in a tiny room, with a computer, a novel, and two hands—that is my world. I’m immersed in my fantasy kingdom. I am Yang Fan. I have lost too much; I can only be a pitiful person, imagining everything in my book. At this moment, curled up, I dare not open the window, fearing the unfamiliar sunlight. My efforts seem like daydreams to many, but I want to say—have I really tried hard enough? Today is Mid-Autumn Festival; happy holiday to all. Five updates today—either I collapse, or I rise! Please keep voting for recommendations!)