Chapter Seventy-Six: The Military Bus

Under the dim sky, Yang Fan and Wang Cheng stood outside, enduring the bitter cold. It was a long time before Fu Gaobin finally emerged from the vehicle, his face split by a lewd grin. The rest inside had gradually drifted into sleep.

Snow covered the land for thousands of miles, as if the earth were wrapped in a white quilt. Snowflakes, fine as salt, scattered in the wild wind, and the icy gusts howled, making people shudder uncontrollably. Even with the advantages of the system, Wang Cheng and Fu Gaobin struggled to withstand the extreme cold.

Ordinary people could hardly bear it at all. As they waited for passing vehicles, Yang Fan glanced at his own attributes; he was still short of enough experience to level up. For the almost maxed-out first-tier insectoids he would face in the future, this meant little.

At last, after a long wait—almost until dawn—a vehicle arrived. No, two vehicles: two large military buses. Inside, there seemed to be many people. Yang Fan had Fu Gaobin and Wang Cheng stay alert.

He then roused those inside the car; Fu Gaobin and Wang Cheng lacked the [True Eagle Eye], so they were unaware a vehicle was coming. But Yang Fan was the spiritual leader of the group—whatever he said was taken as fact. Fu Gaobin and Wang Cheng trusted him without hesitation.

“What’s going on?” Fu Gaobin asked after waking the others. Yang Fan stroked his chin, took a deep breath, and answered, “Someone’s coming. Be careful.” As soon as Yang Fan spoke, Fu Gaobin and Wang Cheng grew even more vigilant. Had they not witnessed what happened in the street, perhaps they would have laughed it off.

But in the street, they’d seen humanity at its darkest. They deeply understood where they were, how terrifying the apocalypse was. Now, they maintained absolute caution toward others.

Soon, the passengers from the buses appeared in Fu Gaobin and Wang Cheng’s field of vision. The buses were armored, not ordinary public vehicles, but massive green metal beasts, sturdy and solid, dozens of meters long, reminiscent of old trains.

Some people stood guard outside, weapons in hand, protecting the buses. In the snow, only these buses could travel unhindered, rarely skidding unless they encountered mutant beasts.

“A well-equipped group—military personnel,” Yang Fan muttered to himself in front of the bus. At last, he had seen the military; perhaps this was a stroke of luck.

“It’s the army, it’s the army, haha, it’s actually the army…” Wu Liang was the first to laugh. Through the bus’s bright headlights, he recognized the vehicle, and burst out laughing. He was a government worker; now that the military had arrived, he was sure to be protected.

Moreover, once inside, he could have the army control the others. He’d reveal all their secrets to the higher-ups, earning merit. In this apocalypse, all systems would collapse—perhaps this was what they meant by heroes rising in chaos.

He could also collaborate with them, making the others his subordinates, using the military’s authority to elevate his status. Then he could revel in wealth and command the world. Wasn’t Cao Cao once a minor official who rose to greatness through wit in a time of disorder?

Why shouldn’t he do the same?

Seeing the military buses, Wu Liang’s mind raced. If Yang Fan, Fu Gaobin, and Wang Cheng knew what he was thinking, they’d probably only respond with a few cold laughs. In the apocalypse, personal strength mattered most; the military’s organization existed only by force of habit.

When someone shattered this idea, chaos would truly begin. Then, national leaders, tycoons, crime lords—if their individual strength was lacking, they’d be less than animals, trampled and humiliated at will. That would be the true apocalypse.

Yet many still refused to believe in the apocalypse, thinking the country would eliminate the monsters, that this was merely a minor disaster, and peace would return once it passed. But… who can predict the future?

The buses screeched to a halt and several figures approached, their cold silhouettes highlighted by the bus’s beams. Fu Gaobin and Wang Cheng clenched their weapons—Wang Cheng now wielded Fu Gaobin’s long spear, an upgrade from his old firearm.

The figures drew closer, their faces coming into view. Leading them was a middle-aged man with a beard and a curved blade in hand, his expression calm yet powerful. Scanning him with the Zombie Eye, they found he was a level six professional, one above themselves.

Judging by his attributes, he’d reached levels four or five, a formidable opponent. If Yang Fan had the same experience, he’d be maxed out by now. Behind the man were three young men, all clad in black robes, their faces obscured.

As they arrived, Wu Liang rushed from the vehicle, coming before the four. The three youths drew their weapons, ready to strike, but the middle-aged man halted them, his tone indifferent: “He has no murderous intent.”

Only then did the three lower their weapons, eyeing Wu Liang suspiciously. Fu Gaobin and Wang Cheng frowned at Wu Liang, tense—he was an official. If he revealed their previous abuse, it could spark discord between the two groups.

Most importantly, the sight of these military buses was overwhelming. If their numbers were smaller, they’d trust Yang Fan, but with so many… Yang Fan was powerful, but not a god—he couldn’t fight hundreds or thousands alone.

The atmosphere grew tense; Fu Gaobin and Wang Cheng hardly dared to breathe, even as the snowstorm roared around them—its noise did nothing to ease their anxiety.

“I’m a government worker, I’m a party member—help me, save me, please save me!” Wu Liang’s words were nothing but pathetic pleading. Standing before them, he forgot the cold, like a desperate refugee seeing hope, craving protection.

But then, something astonishing happened.

The middle-aged man leading the group looked at Wu Liang and sneered, “Just another civilian.”

Then, without another word, he delivered a swift kick that sent Wu Liang sprawling.

A fitting apocalypse tale, indeed—where intellect alone is not enough, and the greatest irony is that.