Rotting Land: Survive

Three men, three shadows; one up high, two down low, fanning out in front, center, and rear as they slowly closed in on the target.

The Black Shadow wandering around the village had no idea he was already being locked onto, still sneaking about and snooping around like a thief, as if he was looking for a suitable place to make his move.

Old Xu and the others moved fast as hell; decades of training, day in day out, finally paid off in this moment.

Li Xiaoxin was the first one into the ambush position. He pulled out the 92 pistol Old Xu had given him from his waist, lay prone on the wall, keeping one eye on the Black Shadow and the other on the surroundings.

After all, even though the guy they were chasing was just one, there was no guarantee there weren’t other bastards hiding in the dark.

With Li Xiaoxin up high for overwatch, Old Xu and Hua Biao split off to close in on the Black Shadow from both sides.

Once Hua Biao made a big loop to get to the Black Shadow’s twelve o’clock, a perfect capture net was fully spread!

Old Xu signaled from a distance to Li Xiaoxin, telling him he was about to make a move and to stay sharp on security.

After Li Xiaoxin confirmed, Old Xu drew the Tiger Fang Dagger from his waist with a reverse grip, bit it between his teeth, and hunched down to stalk after the target.

The Black Shadow didn’t sense danger at all. Old Xu moved like a night cat in the dark—his footsteps completely silent, his speed insanely fast.

Three seconds, maybe less. Old Xu shot forward like lightning, and before the Black Shadow even figured out what the hell was going on, Old Xu had him in a chokehold, clamped a hand over his mouth, and dragged him into an alley.

The bound Black Shadow struggled like crazy, but Old Xu’s left arm around his neck was like an iron clamp, pinning him firmly in place, no matter how he twisted, there was no way to break free.

"If you don’t wanna die, you better stay the fuck still!!"

Old Xu growled the threat into his ear, at the same time shaping his hand into a claw and pressing it against the Black Shadow’s throat.

His meaning was crystal clear: you dare pull anything, and I’ll have you dead in seconds.

Sure enough, after that series of moves, the Black Shadow’s struggling gradually eased, until he finally stood still, obedient and motionless.

"Listen up, I ask, you answer. No bullshit. No yelling. Or you know what’ll happen."

With his mouth covered and unable to make any proper sound, the Black Shadow could only nod over and over, letting out muffled whimpers.

"How many of you came?"

Old Xu threw out the first question. The way he asked it showed real skill. He didn’t say "Did you come alone?" or "Just you?"—no stupid leading questions like that—but used a question that carried a hint of psychological bait.

This is the standard way a recon soldier interrogates a "tongue," a captured talker.

"J-just me!" The Black Shadow’s answer was a bit halting, his eyes flickering with fear.

Old Xu stared into the Black Shadow’s eyes. The guy was wearing a hooded robe, his head buried under the hood, so Old Xu couldn’t really see his face clearly.

But from that look in the Black Shadow’s eyes, he seemed like he wasn’t lying.

Still, sticking to the rule of "better safe than sorry," Old Xu treated whatever the Black Shadow said as pure bullshit.

"Move! You’re coming with me!"

"G-go... go where?" The Black Shadow clearly wasn’t keen on following Old Xu’s lead.

Old Xu didn’t bother wasting words. He simply pressed the Tiger Fang Dagger in his hand against the Black Shadow’s neck: "You got two choices. One, you walk with me. Two, I send you to hell right now."

Short and to the point. By the time Old Xu finished laying out the two options, the Black Shadow immediately made his choice with his legs.

Old Xu pushed the Black Shadow forward, but Li Xiaoxin and Hua Biao stayed hidden in the darkness, not moving.

This was their usual teamwork: Old Xu was the bait now. If there were other thugs out there planning to rescue the Black Shadow, they’d pay a heavy price for it.

Only, unfortunately, the thugs didn’t seem inclined to reveal their position. Old Xu walked all the way back to the courtyard where Old Zhao was without any danger cropping up.

"Hey, Xiao Tang, it’s Old Xu. Come open the door. Over."

As soon as the call ended, Zhao Yunhai and Tang Xiaoquan, who were standing guard by the door, exchanged a glance—they obviously hadn’t spotted any sign of Old Xu.

"That Old Xu really is like a damn ghost—comes and goes without a trace!" Tang Xiaoquan gently pulled open the door. The old hinges let out a harsh screech at the wrong time, making Old Zhao frown slightly.

Once the door was open, he strode out and jogged to the courtyard gate. Sure enough, he spotted Old Xu’s figure in the pitch-black night.

No chit-chat. Old Zhao hurriedly opened the gate, Old Xu shoved the Black Shadow inside, and as he entered he ordered Old Zhao to lock the gate again.

Inside the house, candlelight flickered. Old Zhao, Wang Qiang, Zhang Zhicai, Tang Xiaoquan, Xu Renjie and the other Survivors were seated around the table, while opposite them a man in a gray hooded robe stood hunched.

Old Xu shot Old Zhao a look. Old Zhao nodded, reached out, and pulled back the hood on the man’s head. A sharply contoured yet slightly delicate face appeared in front of the Survivors.

A young guy.

Once they got a clear look at the man’s face, Old Xu instinctively exchanged glances with his own team. Everyone’s eyes flashed with surprise.

But they quickly recovered. In the apocalypse, never mind guys in their early twenties—even kids barely over ten might kill and rob to survive.

This is human nature. The human nature laid bare for survival.

"Talk. How many of you came this time?" Unexpectedly, it was Wang Qiang who fired off the first question.

Only his way of asking made Old Xu and the others a bit worried, and Tang Xiaoquan even saw a hint of bloodlust in Wang Qiang’s burning gaze.

That was a really bad sign. A lot of people who’ve taken heavy hits start wanting to lash out at society just to vent their frustration.

Right now Wang Qiang was clearly showing similar symptoms. Barring any surprises, Tang Xiaoquan suspected that once the fight started, Wang Qiang would go on a killing spree.

If things kept going that way, his brother’s psyche would almost certainly twist out of shape.

That was absolutely something Tang Xiaoquan didn’t want to see. He didn’t want his brother turning into some murder-crazed demon one day.

The captured young man was obviously scared stiff by the tangible killing intent in Wang Qiang’s eyes. He shivered involuntarily, then stammered, "I-I came alone."

"Bullshit! You think we’re idiots? Alone? Believe it or not, I’ll kill you right now!"

"Qiangzi!" Old Zhao leaned forward, grabbed Wang Qiang’s knife hand, and barked in a low voice, "Calm the hell down. Sit!"

What kind of joke was this? Yelling at a time like this—wasn’t that basically sending a signal to any thugs that might be outside?

For the safety of the whole team, Old Zhao couldn’t be bothered with Wang Qiang’s agitation; he snapped at him with real force.

Unexpectedly, Wang Qiang was extremely cooperative. He glanced at Old Zhao, then let go without any argument and sat down.

That really took Old Zhao by surprise, and it also let Tang Xiaoquan—whose nerves had been stretched tight—finally breathe out a sigh of relief.

If Wang Qiang had blown up right now, the fate of the entire team was easy enough to imagine. (To be continued. If you like this work, you’re welcome to go to Qidian (qidian.com) to vote for recommendation tickets and monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation. Mobile users please go to m.qidian.com to read.)