Anyone who insults my woman must die!

Xue Feng dealt with the three men far too quickly. Even if any of them possessed abilities, they never had a chance to use them. If one among them truly was an ability user, these ropes would not have been able to restrain them. Xue Feng had to clarify this matter first before beginning his interrogation.

Under Xue Feng’s unwavering gaze, the three instinctively looked away. They all knew how formidable he was—each had witnessed his battles against the mutated beings of the Three Realms.

Bang!

Without a word, Xue Feng drew his axe and smashed the skull of the man in the center. Now only two remained: a skinny fellow and another man clad in a black leather jacket.

“Ah!” Both cried out in shock as blood and something white splattered across their faces. They knew Xue Feng was strong, but never expected him to be so ruthless—without a moment’s hesitation, he had killed one of their companions.

“Are either of you ability users?” Xue Feng pressed on, now addressing just two.

“No, I’m not an ability user!” The skinny man shook his head frantically, his face contorted, terrified that a slow answer would mean death beneath the axe.

“I’m not an ability user either,” the leather-clad man replied, his composure steadier than his companion’s.

“Heh. Neither of you are ability users? Yet you dared to monitor an entire city?” Xue Feng sneered, clearly unconvinced. If he were sending people here, he would have provided weapons, but also ensured an ability user was present for safety.

“The one you just killed was an ability user,” the skinny man blurted out, eager to spill everything. “We haven’t seen his power often, but it seemed he could transform into a crocodile.”

Xue Feng paused, surprised that the one he dispatched so casually had been the only ability user among them. Then he thought, perhaps it was his own luck at play.

“Besides this surveillance point, do you have other companions monitoring elsewhere?” Xue Feng asked.

“No, none,” the skinny man shook his head. One spot was enough to oversee most of the city; there was no need to set up elsewhere.

“Where is your base? How many people are inside? How many ability users? What is your leader’s strength?” Xue Feng continued.

A barrage of questions followed, and the skinny man’s face turned ashen.

“Don’t tell him anything. He’ll kill us anyway,” the leather-jacketed man said in a low voice.

Hearing this, the skinny man looked even more distressed, almost on the verge of tears.

“Heh. Who says I have to kill you? I need a hostage to guide me. There are many benefits to leaving one alive, and I’m not short on food,” Xue Feng smiled, crouching before them as if choosing which to spare. Killing them was easy, but keeping one alive was more useful—he could always ask questions as needed.

“I’ll tell you everything! Please, choose me. I don’t want to die!” the skinny man begged, fear overwhelming him so much a foul stench wafted from beneath him, making Xue Feng wrinkle his nose.

“You were the one who said, after you killed me, the women in the base would be yours, weren’t you?” Xue Feng said coldly. He remembered that lewd voice—it was the skinny man's.

“What?” The skinny man’s expression froze. The last thing he saw was Xue Feng raising his axe. Then his head flew off, tumbling from the rooftop.

“Anyone who covets my woman deserves to die,” Xue Feng said blankly, then turned to the leather-jacketed man.

“If you kill him too, aren’t you afraid I won’t tell you anything?” the man stared wide-eyed in disbelief, shocked at Xue Feng’s swift brutality.

“You can choose not to speak, or you can choose to live,” Xue Feng replied. Even if the man refused to talk, Xue Feng had already gleaned some basic information—such as the location of their base.

Beside their belongings lay a city map, marked with seven or eight survivor gathering points, including his own Riverside Villa Community and Liu Jun’s Gourmet Street. At first glance, Xue Feng was surprised—he hadn’t expected so few large survivor groups left in the city, only seven. Perhaps there were still some small groups, but their numbers were surely meager.

In the apocalypse, banding together meant a better chance to survive and more resources to gather. Aside from these, the three had even marked their own main base—just outside the southern suburbs, apparently a canned food factory now occupied as their headquarters.

Killing the skinny man was purely because he angered Xue Feng. If the leather-jacketed man refused to talk, Xue Feng would simply kill him—he could investigate himself later, though it would cost some time. Keeping the skinny man alive would only disgust him.

“I’ll talk!”

Taking a deep breath, the leather-jacketed man made his choice—the only way to survive.

He then told Xue Feng everything he knew. His name was Qin Fengshan, originally just a regular employee at the canned food factory. When the apocalypse struck, the factory organized resistance against the first wave of zombies, reinforcing the walls and turning the facility into a sturdy base.

Though they had no electricity, the factory was rich in food—conservative estimates said their canned goods could feed over a hundred workers for two years. With long shelf lives, some cans lasted two or three years, and in certain Western countries, even ten. The workers intended to await rescue, believing the apocalypse would not last long—if they held out, help would surely come.

But what Qin Fengshan and his colleagues hadn’t expected was that ten days later, a group stormed the factory, seized control of the food, and killed many employees.

“The leader killed not only those who resisted, but everyone over fifty, claiming they were wasting food! Old Liu was just a month away from retirement!” Qin Fengshan’s eyes reddened as he spoke, clearly mourning lost friends among the dead.