Chapter Twenty: Childhood Memories

The Corpse King’s domain enveloped the two-headed wolf, unleashing a suffocating pressure. The massive beast shuddered immediately, as if plunged into the depths of the ocean. The overwhelming force washed over it, making its limbs go weak. With a muffled thud, it dropped to its knees.

A pitiful whine escaped its throat, the sound more like a defeated dog than a ferocious predator. The menace in its eyes had vanished, replaced by pure terror. It was as though a single glance from Lin Dong had brought the giant wolf to its knees.

Such a sight was nothing short of astonishing.

Clearly, the Corpse King’s domain exerted tremendous suppression on mutant beasts as well.

The surviving humans nearby stared in disbelief, unable to fathom what they had just witnessed.

This man’s strength was simply overwhelming.

Meanwhile, Lin Dong’s thoughts drifted elsewhere. The wolf had two heads—did that mean it possessed two brain cores or just one?

Determined to find the answer, he stepped forward, knife in hand, and cut open both heads. To his satisfaction, he discovered a brain core nestled within each skull.

Unfortunately, the cores themselves were small, less impressive than those found in Awakened humans. If the Awakened’s brain core was like a cherry, these were merely little wild cherries.

Lin Dong swallowed both. The taste was still delectable, and the energy within was pure and easily absorbed. His vitality surged a little more.

He then licked the blood from his knife, savoring the flavor of the two-headed wolf’s blood. The energy it contained far surpassed that of ox or chicken blood.

“Not bad...” Lin Dong mused with satisfaction. With a wave of his hand, he stowed the wolf’s carcass in his storage space, planning to show it off at home.

As for the survivors behind him, Lin Dong paid them no mind. There was little point in killing them—better to keep them around like livestock, to continue their bloodline, or perhaps to wait until they Awakened before harvesting them.

His body passed through the wall, vanishing like a ghost.

The survivors stood frozen, unable to utter a word. Who could have imagined that the terrifying giant wolf would be dispatched so easily?

“What kind of monster is he...?”

...

When Lin Dong returned home, Su Xiaorou had already finished the day’s chores.

“Boss, your clothes are clean and ready for you to change into anytime,” she announced.

“Mm. Go rest,” Lin Dong replied.

But Su Xiaorou rubbed the back of her neck, shaking her head. “Boss, my head feels itchy. Am I about to Awaken?”

“Oh?” Lin Dong glanced at her, studied her for a moment, and finally said, “Go wash your hair.”

Su Xiaorou’s hopes deflated. She turned and left the room, resigned.

Lin Dong took a hot bath and changed into freshly laundered clothes. He draped a white scarf around his neck and sat down at the dining table. Picking up his knife and fork, he cut a piece from the wolf he had just hunted and began to eat.

The wolf meat was surprisingly good—chewy, much like beef jerky to an ordinary person.

On the television, a survivor’s emergency channel played: “There are monsters! The beasts have mutated, and some have even fused with zombies. I just filmed this with a drone—everyone, look!”

Lin Dong chewed his meat and glanced up at the screen. There, a giant python as thick as a barrel was coiled around a house. Most unnerving of all, it had the head of a zombie atop its serpentine body.

It looked terrifying. Apparently, the python had devoured too many zombies and fused with them. There were other reports from official shelters of fused monsters—giant spiders the size of cars with human faces, their bodies bristling with hair and spinning webs tougher than steel; rats as large as sows with human heads sprouting from their backs, writhing and wailing in agony.

“What an appetite stimulant...” Lin Dong muttered to himself.

The world outside was still fraught with danger, mutants and monsters prowling everywhere, ceaseless violence and flight, a single misstep spelling certain death. Human survivors not only had to watch out for monsters, but for each other as well. For food, for beauty, they would turn on one another, shedding the last vestiges of civility.

But Lin Dong remained largely untouched by this bloodshed and chaos.

He holed up in his spotless home, waited on by a servant, his life one of tranquil luxury—a world apart from the one outside.

He also had three subordinates stationed outside, and his subordinates’ own followers numbered in the thousands. Neither human Awakened nor mutant beasts dared cause trouble here.

And so, Lin Dong continued to lay low for another ten days or so, consuming vast quantities of flesh and blood—over a hundred tons in all.

The feast could not stop...

His strength advanced by leaps and bounds. Now, when he unleashed his corpse domain, its range doubled to twenty meters, its power and duration both greatly enhanced.

But in recent days, Lin Dong noticed helicopters frequently roaring past his window—the frequency of human activity had increased.

He had gathered from his sources that the number of Awakened humans was rising, and rescue missions were being launched everywhere.

At present, the official shelter in Jiangbei City housed fifty thousand people, with seven thousand Awakened among them.

They had even published a ranking of the top one hundred Awakened, numbered 001 to 100 by strength—001 being the strongest, 100 the weakest, though the list was based on data, not actual combat.

Every day, the authorities also broadcast updates on their rescue teams, to prevent survivors from being misled or falling prey to malicious imposters.

One day, as Lin Dong watched television—the networks were mostly down, with only the shelter’s radar signals broadcasting—an announcement came on:

“Today’s rescue team: We have dispatched two Awakened, Cheng Luoyi and Sun Xiaoqiang, who will soon land at University City. Survivors nearby, please await rescue.”

“Hmm?” Lin Dong hadn’t been paying much attention, but when he heard those names, he set his wine glass aside and looked up.

Two faces appeared on the screen.

The first was a girl with straight, jet-black hair and blunt bangs, her skin pale as porcelain. Her large, round eyes were dark and utterly devoid of light, seeming hollow and emotionless. Her beauty was ethereal, almost unreal, like a living doll.

Beside her was a young man, skin tanned, cheeks gaunt, hair in natural curls. Most striking were his eyes—one stared straight ahead, the other wandered askew, giving him an air of peculiar “wisdom.” The contrast between them could not have been greater; his looks were leagues below hers.

Yet Lin Dong knew them both.

His gaze drifted to a photograph on the wall—a picture from the orphanage, capturing nearly all his childhood memories. Both faces were there.

Cheng Luoyi, he remembered best; they used to play together as children. But later, the director said Cheng Luoyi had a mental illness and sent her to a psychiatric hospital. He hadn’t seen her since.

Sun Xiaoqiang, he recalled as well—a boy born with a defect, mentally slow, one eye always on lookout, the other standing guard. Abandoned by his parents.

One classic memory surfaced: when Sun Xiaoqiang was twelve, he had a pet hamster. When it fell ill, Sun Xiaoqiang simply fed it rat poison...

The sight of these faces on TV stirred Lin Dong’s long-buried memories. Childhood companions—ten years had passed since he’d seen them.

Who could have guessed they’d end up together, forming a rescue team?

“A lunatic and an idiot—can they really save anyone...?”