Chapter Sixty-Two: Shadows Within the Heart (Part One)

With a wet splatter, the iron spear thrust into the demon rat’s body. Even though he used all his strength, the spear barely sank three inches into the beast’s flesh, inflicting no serious injury. Yet the pain made the creature howl in agony. Frightened by the savage squeal, Fu Gaobin fell back hard onto the ground, his brief surge of courage vanishing in an instant.

“Hurry up and finish it!” Yang Fan shouted. If this berserk demon rat truly went mad, it would activate its innate abilities and break free. Yang Fan’s warning was to keep Fu Gaobin from coming to harm.

“Screw you! If you’re so brave, why don’t you do it?” Fu Gaobin cursed at Yang Fan but steeled himself once more. Shutting his eyes, he drove the spear into the demon rat again. When he pulled it free, blood gushed out, spraying over him. The warmth of the rat’s blood made Fu Gaobin shudder, but gripping the spear, he stabbed at the creature again and again in a desperate frenzy.

The berserk demon rat howled and roared, but it couldn’t break free. Its eyes were blood-red, and its foul breath washed over Fu Gaobin. At last, after forty or fifty stabs, the demon rat gave a pitiful whimper, overcome by blood loss and exhaustion, death drawing near.

At this, Fu Gaobin sprang to his feet, clenched his jaw, and drove the spear fiercely into the demon rat’s skull. The spearhead split the skull with a crack, and the creature let out a final, shrill scream, struggled feebly, and died.

Panting, Fu Gaobin’s whole body trembled. It was a while before he could calm himself.

“We need to get out of here—the beast’s screams may attract other monsters,” Fu Gaobin called out. He gathered up the demon rat’s corpse, imitating Yang Fan—perhaps it would prove useful in the future.

The others stared in astonishment as the massive creature vanished in an instant. The four companions looked at Fu Gaobin in disbelief.

Knowing their situation was dangerous, Fu Gaobin didn’t bother to explain. He simply led the group away in a blind flight. With Yang Fan guiding them, they didn’t run into any large packs of mutated beasts. The six of them continued toward Lake Clarity, but as the previous route might still harbor berserk demon rats, Fu Gaobin decided to take an alternate path.

This would take more time, but in the apocalypse, survival was a blessing—what did it matter if the journey was longer?

Cautiously, the party pressed on. At last, night fell. With the sun gone, cold winds howled. Everyone felt a creeping dread; sunlight at least gave some comfort, but now, in the darkness, their thoughts turned to the unthinkable—what if the sun never rose again?

At this moment, everyone but Yang Fan was preoccupied with such fears. Fu Gaobin decided they needed to find shelter from the cold and hide themselves away. Conveniently, they reached the gates of International Trade City, one of the most famous residential complexes in NC. Apartments here cost twenty or thirty thousand per square meter, and only the wealthy could afford to live in such a place.

Now, however, the once-luxurious gates were strewn with corpses and blood. The towers stood dark and silent. Yet Yang Fan, ever alert, sensed that many people were hiding inside, watching them. On the tenth night of the apocalypse, the complex’s security systems were still holding up surprisingly well. Some residents had survived, though the place was still plagued by zombies.

Streetlights still shone in the darkness. Despite the collapse of most electronics, the streetlights were powered by underground generators, so power outages were not yet a concern. The six of them moved carefully.

Fu Gaobin was on high alert, spear in hand. Yang Fan pointed out a few paths with fewer zombies, and they made their way. A handful of zombies attacked along the way, but Fu Gaobin managed to dispatch them swiftly and decisively, already adapting to the cruel rules of this new world.

They reached Building A, but the entrance required a passcode. Yang Fan decided against forcing the door, knowing the noise would draw more zombies. Instead, they searched for a building with an open entrance and found Block C15. The gate was bloodstained, with a few corpses lying nearby.

The bodies bore axe wounds—evidently the work of some brave survivors. Using his “True Eagle Eye,” Yang Fan could tell that three or four apartments in this twenty-eight-story building were occupied, but he had no wish to stir up trouble.

They climbed the stairs, Fu Gaobin leading the way with his bloodstained spear, Yang Fan bringing up the rear, vigilant for sudden zombie attacks.

The stairwell was eerily quiet. The group, apart from Yang Fan, was tense and fearful, dreading the sudden appearance of a zombie or some other monster.

Fortunately, their ascent was uneventful. They reached the eighth floor, where one apartment’s door stood open—no longer tightly locked. Blood stained the threshold, and the stairwell light glowed dim and yellow.

“Be careful,” Fu Gaobin warned, crouching low as he extended the spear through the doorway. Sensing nothing amiss, he drew a deep breath and stepped inside. The others waited outside, too afraid to follow at first.

The room was shrouded in darkness. Yang Fan couldn’t scan for zombies—his “True Eagle Eye” only worked in open areas—but thanks to his Zombie Eye equipment, he could confirm the apartment was clear.

Even without the Zombie Eye, Yang Fan could have guessed as much. Zombies were bloodthirsty, but could survive without fresh human flesh. However, with most residents gone, hordes of zombies had already moved elsewhere. Only stragglers might remain behind in such rooms.

Sure enough, after a quick check, Fu Gaobin confirmed there were no zombies. He breathed a sigh of relief and quietly closed the door behind them. He turned on the lights, having already drawn the curtains to keep their presence hidden.

With the dim lights on, they could finally see their surroundings.

The living room was about a hundred square meters, furnished with a few sofas, and the area was generally tidy—except the coffee table, scattered with candy, remnants left by the previous owners in the chaos. A spacious kitchen and dining area, more than fifty square meters, lay adjacent.

There were four bedrooms and a study, with a total area exceeding three hundred square meters. At twenty or thirty thousand per square meter, this apartment alone would cost at least five or six million. It was said that these were purchased one full floor at a time, with the apartment across the hall bought together as a pair. The total price would easily exceed ten million, and that was unfurnished. Yang Fan, with a wry sense of humor, estimated that furnishing and decorating a whole floor like this would push the cost to at least eighteen million. With eighteen million, you could buy the company of any celebrity you pleased.

And this was only NC, a third-tier city. What about BJ or SH? It was hard to fathom the kind of life the truly wealthy enjoyed—one he’d never even approach in his old life. But now, things were different…

(—The recommendation votes have really dried up lately… Maybe I haven’t asked enough? Brothers and friends, please, vote for the novel! We’re already in the top ten of new books and top fifteen for category clicks! Thank you all, but I don’t think we should settle for this—we can go higher, become stronger, surpass everyone. We are number one!)