Chapter 192: Seeking Allegiance—Who Is the Mastermind? (First Update)

As she walked down the street, Bian Changxi felt a slight chill in the air. It was already September 23rd—Autumn Equinox. After today, the daylight hours would rapidly shorten, and temperatures would plummet. Many people would freeze to death this winter. Yet, over 90% of the population hadn’t realized this yet. Everyone was simply happy that the sweltering summer was finally over. Most people on the street wore long sleeves, sweaters, and jackets, enjoying the rare cool weather.

Thanks to timely reports from the climate prediction department, Gu Xu had made ample preparations. In the past few days, many greenhouses had been set up at Jiangcheng’s own farming base, and plenty of dead branches and straw had been dried for use against the cold. The herbs in the Chinese medicine garden had also been relocated to safer spots. As for cotton clothes and quilts, the factory had opened over a dozen large workshops, brought in many machines, and hired skilled elderly women to sew day and night. None of this was done in secret—some people, upon hearing about it, started preparing as well, while others mocked them for being overly afraid of the cold.

Some poorly insulated houses were also being hastily repaired. Winter vegetables and grains were being stockpiled, since the cold and lack of sunlight would make future crops hard to grow. The farming base had expanded its workforce several times over these days, rushing to plant as much as possible, and many new cellars and warehouses for food storage had been built.

She glanced at Gu Xu beside her. He lowered his head and asked softly, “What’s wrong?”

She squinted and smiled. “Nothing.”

They had already gotten out of the car at the base’s main gate—still the west gate they’d used last time to go to Hongri. It was very early, but the pleasant weather made people especially industrious. Everyone was busy with work or hunting, and a line had already formed at the gate.

Gu Xu led a few people straight to the entrance, swiped his black card, and was let through immediately. As soon as they stepped outside, Bian Changxi was startled. In the distance, rows of vehicles were parked—trucks, rugged off-road vehicles, sleek sports cars, and spacious vans. In front of the vehicles stood a dense, orderly formation of people: half were soldiers in crisp uniforms, the other half mostly wore matching black outfits, while a few were dressed more casually.

A quick glance showed there were at least a thousand people, especially the soldiers and those in black, all armed to the teeth. Their imposing presence was intimidating.

As Gu Xu and his group approached, everyone greeted in unison, “Major Gu!”

Gu Xu nodded and briefly explained to Bian Changxi: there were 1,100 people here—500 elite soldiers, 300 armed fighters made up of ability users and strong ordinary people (the ones in black uniforms), all recently formed into the Jiangcheng Hunting Corps. This group was even more formidable than the military, with high standards for selection and loyalty. Gu Xu planned to focus on training them; for now, there were only 5,000 members, but when they left for the capital, these would be his core followers.

Another 200 were ordinary citizens of Jiangcheng, who had volunteered and passed selection after a notice went out yesterday—they were all skilled and experienced.

The last 100 were also ordinary people, but assigned to specific tasks as laborers.

Today, Gu Xu was leading all 1,100 of them out.

The wide plaza and open spaces were filled with onlookers, some curious, some envious, and plenty gossiping.

Bian Changxi scanned the crowd and noticed a few suspicious-looking people—probably scouts from other factions.

After a few formal words, Gu Xu ordered everyone to board the vehicles. The five of them shared one car, with Qiu Yun driving. As they drove off, Bian Changxi looked back at the base—there were still many homeless people camped along the wall, and the row of dilapidated houses in the Daicun mountains was still there, with people living inside. She asked, “Haven’t the people from Daicun moved into the base yet?”

“They have. They’ve settled on a plot next to our military camp,” Gu Xu replied. “The area is now used by new survivors in rotation.”

Qiu Yun chimed in, “Not just that. The folks from Daishan came to help build the camp, and somehow, relations have gotten pretty good. Today, we hired a few dozen of them to go out and chop firewood—they’re in the team right now.”

Huh? Chopping firewood?

Bian Changxi looked at Gu Xu.

“It’s for heating in the cold. We don’t have enough wood in the base, so I want to make some charcoal as backup.”

That was a good idea. In the bitter cold, having some charcoal to burn at home would make things a bit more bearable. Bian Changxi remembered that in her previous life, when it got unbearably cold, coal and wood were priceless, fire-type abilities were in high demand, electricity was extremely scarce, and oil was too valuable to use for heating. People went out en masse to cut down trees, sometimes fighting over a single tree. The problem was, freshly cut wood was wet and burned poorly, so people ended up burning furniture, rags, and paper for warmth. The whole base was choked with smoke, and people still froze to death every day. Even wood-type ability users started selling vines and wooden spikes for money.

Her eyes lit up. “Great idea! And what about the other laborers—the hundred or so you mentioned?”

“There’s a cotton field not far behind the mountain. Although a lot of the plants have died, we can still pick some cotton—twenty people will handle that.” After all, you need raw materials to make cotton clothes and quilts. “The rest will be digging up medicinal herbs.”

Just as she thought, Bian Changxi mused. This trip would bring back a lot of supplies.

After more than an hour’s drive, they reached the foot of the mountains. The road was rough and bumpy, and the last stretch had to be done on foot. Along the way, they encountered zombies and mutated plants and animals, but the well-armed soldiers and hunting corps members made short work of them.

They arrived at the base of the mountain.

It was a densely forested hill, only two or three hundred meters high but stretching a long way. No one remembered its original name before the apocalypse—after the discovery of the “flying pigs,” everyone just called it Flying Pig Mountain.

What a ridiculous name.

The army posted fifty men to guard the base of the mountain. The rest split into small squads of twenty, spreading out to hunt whatever they encountered. The hunting corps sent fifty to accompany Gu Xu’s group, while the others moved in small teams. The 200 ordinary people did the same, and the 100 laborers, according to their assignments, followed either the soldiers or the hunting corps, who protected them while they chopped wood or harvested crops.

Bian Changxi sprinkled herself with five-colored grass powder—a processed version that was less harmful to the body, though it was still best not to apply it directly to the skin or inhale it.

Once ready, everyone split up and headed up the mountain.

There were no real paths—any that had existed before the apocalypse were now overgrown by rampant vegetation. Since the first group discovered this place, a few trails had been trampled out, but the ground was still strewn with rocks and thick grass. Occasionally, they’d see shredded corpses, ghastly white bones, and bloodstains, with a sinister air lurking under the dense canopy.

They soon encountered animals.

If the animals weren’t dangerous, they left them for others to deal with. Only when they ran into threatening mutated plants or animals did they stop to fight. The main fighters were Wu Dalang and Shadow, with Qiu Yun helping out. Gu Xu and Bian Changxi rarely had to act, and the fifty hunting corps members used the opportunity to warm up.

Perhaps because of their numbers, nothing particularly dangerous happened along the way. Any threats were quickly dispatched by the group. The most troublesome were poisonous insects and snakes, but since everyone had used the medicinal powder, the toxins didn’t dare get too close, making them easy to handle.

Eventually, they reached the flying pigs’ lair—a mini basin hidden in the forest. In the bushes, dozens of fat, shiny wild boars were rooting around, each with a strange green-patterned wing on its back. Their round bodies were wrapped with green markings that looked like belts, though it was hard to tell if they were on the surface or under the skin.

The markings ran up to a spot just above the pigs’ eyes, where there was a slightly bulging point. If you looked closely, it almost seemed like a face was growing there, as if some creature was lurking beneath—very creepy.

Bian Changxi felt disgusted. At her feet, Niunai (Milk) paced restlessly—whether from impatience or something else, she didn’t know—until Gu Xu patted its head and it settled down, crouching and staring intently at the scene below. Its plump body seemed to radiate power, like a hunter waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

She counted—there were about a hundred flying pigs, big and small. If they attacked all at once, it would be a disaster. Each pig was nearly chest-high to an adult, like a small tank, with long, sharp tusks that could knock down a tree as thick as three people hugging it.

And those parasitic mutant plants on their backs were even more dangerous.

Gu Xu and his team had a plan. First, they planted explosives around the basin. Then, ability users with fire, wind, ice, or metal powers—those capable of long-range attacks—spread out, climbing trees or hiding behind rocks to form the first line, with others further back as a third line. Earth-type users and defensive fighters with huge shields formed the second line.

Everyone had trained and drilled for this, moving silently so that the dumb pigs didn’t notice a thing.

Once everything was ready, the first line launched their attack—blades, knives, and spikes flew at the strongest-looking pigs. Some pigs had their hooves severed, others had their throats slashed, eyes gouged out, or bellies ripped open, intestines spilling everywhere.

Shadow’s mist blades and Qiu Yun’s wind blades targeted the heads of the parasitic plants, slicing off large chunks of flesh.

The flying pigs, ambushed, let out furious screams and charged. The second line sprang up—earth walls were raised, shields braced, blocking the pigs inside the basin.

If any line couldn’t hold, or if the parasitic plants tried to “awaken” someone, the defenders would fall back, letting the pigs rush out. Their huge bodies smashed through trees and brush, sometimes unable to stop themselves. That’s when the third line’s long-range attacks—abilities and bullets—came into play, taking them down with deadly accuracy.

Thanks to “Qingyu’s Fleeting Years” for the pink ticket!

Thanks to “Cherry Crocodile” for the pink ticket!

Thanks to “li016” for the pink ticket! l3l4"