Chapter Thirty-Four: It Is Snowing

It wasn’t that Yang Fan had some peculiar penchant for killing men; rather, these people harbored sinister intentions. If he didn’t nip them in the bud, it would only bring him trouble. This was the apocalypse, no longer an age of peace—people, in order to survive, would go mad and lose their humanity.

In the end, only three remained: a girl in a white dress, a woman wielding a long spear, and the woman kneeling on the ground.

Surprisingly, the girl in the white dress didn’t seem as nervous as one might expect. In contrast, the woman holding the spear was visibly tense, while the kneeling woman trembled all over, a pungent stench of urine radiating from her.

Yang Fan frowned at her. Her hair was tangled, her head hung low as she sobbed, unable to utter a word—it was clear she’d been utterly terrified. Yang Fan was about to kill her, but just then, the artifact spirit of the Painted Ladies Scroll spoke up.

“Master, you can choose to assimilate this woman. She will serve you for life, obeying your every command, or she could become your subordinate and fight for you.”

The Painted Ladies Scroll rarely spoke, only ever when it concerned a woman, which made Yang Fan wonder if this thing was more demonic than righteous.

“Since that’s the case, I’ll take her,” Yang Fan said, not wasting words. The woman’s features were not bad—back in his previous life, she would have been the trophy girlfriend of a rich, handsome man, at least a seven out of ten. If not for her current disheveled and pitiful state, with a bit of makeup, she’d be a rare beauty in the eyes of any young man of twenty-five or six.

“Since Master has no maidservant by his side, I will plant a ‘Seed of Clarity’ in her mind. This way, you will know her every thought. As you grow stronger, it will ensure she has no capacity for betrayal.”

“So be it,” Yang Fan nodded. The Painted Ladies Scroll released a beam of light that shot into the woman’s head. The girl in the white dress beside her looked startled, but Yang Fan asked, “What about these two?”

“As these two are apocalypse system inheritors, the Seed of Clarity cannot be planted for now. But once you reach a higher level, it will be possible.”

Yang Fan wasn’t particularly disappointed by this, so the seed was only implanted in the kneeling woman.

“Don’t kill me, please don’t kill me,” she pleaded.

After the seed took root, Yang Fan looked at the woman. This was the first thought that came to his mind.

“It really works,” he mused, then walked to stand before her. Immediately, her fear intensified, her trembling growing worse.

“I won’t kill you.” This was the first thing Yang Fan said, and at once, she let out a long sigh of relief. Frantically, she crawled over, clutching his legs, pressing her ample chest against his thigh, and stammered, “Don’t kill me, please, I can do anything for you. My body—my body has never been touched by anyone, I can give it to you.”

Tears streamed down her face as she spoke.

Yang Fan couldn’t say he disliked this type of woman, but he certainly didn’t like her either.

“If he spares me, I’ll give him my body, serve him, be whatever he wants,” she thought, unaware Yang Fan could see right through her.

“What’s your name?” Yang Fan’s voice was icy.

“Liu... Liu... Liu Xue,” she stammered, still trembling.

“From today on, you are my maid. Serve me well and I’ll spare your life. Understand?” Yang Fan’s words were forceful and commanding, a powerful aura radiating from him, leaving her with nothing but submission and fear in her mind.

“Yes... I understand... I understand,” she replied, not dropping her guard, but instead collecting herself and kneeling steadily before him. She was a clever woman.

Yang Fan looked at her with no hint of desire in his gaze.

“Do either of you resent me?” he now asked the other two girls. He had no intention of killing them, but neither did he harbor any particular affection for them. If they hated or despised him, he would leave with Liu Xue and not look back. If they seemed indifferent, he might as well take them along.

“No. These people weren’t good anyway. On the second day of the apocalypse, I overheard them plotting to... well, we never had much fondness for them. But one day, a god appeared, and his words brought them peace.”

The spear-wielding woman said this, working hard to keep her voice calm.

“Is that so?” Yang Fan looked into her eyes. She was wary at first, but soon met his gaze directly. They stared at each other for a few seconds; her figure was striking.

“Good,” he said at last, satisfied. “You two are apocalypse system inheritors. You have your uses. I have no designs on you. If you want to survive and are willing to follow me, then obey. Do you understand?”

The girl in the white dress was a superb archer, likely with the profession of Dark Elf, while this fiery woman... either a martial artist or perhaps... a druid!

“We understand.” The fiery woman answered for both of them. In the apocalypse, going it alone was dangerous. Yang Fan’s overwhelming strength had thoroughly convinced them. As for the deaths of the others, perhaps they truly didn’t care, but neither did they feel much goodwill.

“What are your names?” Yang Fan asked.

“Bai Chen,” the girl in the white dress replied.

“Fang Na,” said the fiery woman.

“Bai Chen, Fang Na.” Yang Fan repeated the names, but they sparked no recognition. His mind raced, but he could recall nothing. In his previous life, his first month had been spent entirely on the run, with not a moment’s rest.

Most of what he knew came from forums. What he’d actually seen, apart from disaster, flight, and the ugliness of human nature, was little else.

He estimated the time. Dusk was falling. It was the eighth day of the apocalypse. Worried about unexpected events or what might be happening with Zhu Liang, he called the three to leave with him. Just then, snow began to fall from the sky…