Chapter Thirty-Two: The Struggle for Supplies

After Shen Lie noticed that the water in the Red River had grown paler, he immediately instructed Li Cheng to assign people to observe it constantly. In fact, he was not the only one to have discovered this phenomenon; every day, countless survivors ventured to the riverbank to seek food or a way to cross, especially after he had safely made it over from the other side. Seeing him return unscathed, more and more people sought to cross the river in search of sustenance, and thus many had noticed the anomaly.

This Red River was of critical importance to those in Zhenbei Town. Although the survivors within the town were not yet aware that nearly a hundred spider monsters had appeared across the river, the dozen or so monsters that had attacked on the day of the catastrophe were enough to leave them all deeply shaken. They knew that once the natural barrier of the Red River lost its effectiveness, their ‘good days’ would come to an end.

“How is it?” The following noon, Shen Lie met the fifth group returning with news.

“Reporting to you, Heavenly King Shen, the river’s water is still red, but it’s grown noticeably paler since this morning. Across the river, dozens of those spider monsters have gathered. A few tried to force their way across, but were killed by the water. Still, everyone is saying the river’s power seems to have decreased quite a bit.”

The messenger was a young man of about twenty with cropped hair, emaciated to the bone. As he spoke of the river’s changes, his legs trembled involuntarily, clearly haunted by the implications.

Shen Lie’s expression grew grim. From the information relayed to him, it was clear that the river’s lethality was directly proportional to its color, and the water was fading faster than he had anticipated. That meant he had to act with greater urgency.

“Zhang Jing, come with me!” Shen Lie called, then drove out of town once more.

Yesterday, in half a day, he had managed to survey nearly half the northern outskirts of the town. The situation there was much the same as in the south: the entire perimeter was shrouded in a dense red mist, blocking out the sun. He could not tell what dangers lurked within the fog, but the moment he drew near, his hair stood on end—a warning that kept him from venturing any further.

He also saw the medicine field where the Phantom Mushrooms grew. As expected, it lay at the edge of the red mist, a vast expanse. No one cared anymore what kind of mushrooms had once been cultivated there. Now, the entire field flickered with a shifting, spectral light—an awe-inspiring sight from afar.

Harvesting these Phantom Mushrooms did not necessarily provoke the dangers within the red mist, but on one side of the field stood three large trees, each crowded with mutated crows—large, vicious creatures. Anyone who dared set foot in the field would be attacked by this murderous flock.

Moreover, these crows seemed especially sensitive to those who had awakened supernatural powers. Shen Lie noticed that if he approached within a hundred meters of the field, the crows would become restless, yet if Zhang Jing went alone, she could get within thirty or forty meters without being attacked.

For reasons unknown, the crows never strayed far from the red mist. As long as one could snatch a mushroom and flee far enough, the crows would not pursue.

Shen Lie even witnessed, with his own eyes, a team gathering mushrooms by deliberately drawing the crows away with a diversion.

His goal this time was, once again, the Phantom Mushroom field. On the one hand, the mushrooms still intrigued him; on the other, the red mist was slightly thinner here than on any other part of the northern outskirts. So, even with the mutated crows standing guard, if he had to choose a point to break out of the town, he would choose here. After all, dangers seen are easier to deal with than those lurking unseen.

“Ha! Old Wu, you’re in luck today, managed to pick up a piece of Phantom Mushroom. Hand it over and let me have a look!” Shen Lie and Zhang Jing stood at a distance, observing the mist, when suddenly a shrill laugh sounded from the direction of the field.

Turning, they saw two groups of mushroom-gatherers confronting each other. The field had now become the main food source for ordinary survivors. With most resources monopolized by the four major factions, trading Phantom Mushrooms for food was the quickest method. Though picking them was perilous and often deadly, the other options were no better.

“Old Zhang, we live on the same street! I even helped carry your mother’s coffin when she passed. Isn’t what you’re doing now a bit much?” The speaker was a scraggly, bearded man, clutching a plastic bag tightly as he anxiously addressed the twenty-odd people facing him. A few men and women stood behind him, all older, each looking timid and saying nothing.

“Hmph! Old Wu, that’s ancient history. Look at our numbers—we haven’t had a proper meal in three days. That thing in your hand belongs to me now. You’re lucky today, just go pick another one!” Old Zhang’s face was brutish, showing no sign of hunger, nor any intention of giving Old Wu the benefit of the doubt.

“Uncle, we risked our lives for that mushroom. No one can take it from us! Zhuzi was torn apart and eaten by those crows for it. If we don’t trade it, we’ll all starve!” A sallow-faced youth behind Old Wu shrieked, seeing his uncle hesitate.

“Tsk, tsk. This is Old Wu’s college boy, isn’t it? How have you wasted away like this? Your uncle didn’t get you anything good to eat? Enough talk! Since you ran into me, it’s just bad luck. Don’t forget, I’m related to King Ma!” Old Zhang sneered.

“I’ll count to three. Hand it over, or you can wait for someone else to come collect your bodies!” Fearing further complications as more eyes turned their way, Old Zhang shot a menacing glare at Shen Lie and Zhang Jing, warning them not to interfere.

“Uncle, without the Phantom Mushroom we’ll all starve. I heard the water in Second River isn’t red anymore—the monsters will be coming soon. We’re all dead anyway, sooner or later. Let’s fight him!” The young man was clearly at the brink of collapse, his eyes bloodshot as he stared furiously at Old Zhang. With a howl, he raised his kitchen knife and charged!

“Xiangzi, come back!” Old Wu was horrified by his nephew’s sudden action, but by the time he reacted, it was too late. The young man had already reached Old Zhang, swinging his knife, but he was so weak from hunger that he wavered unsteadily. Old Zhang slapped him to the ground with a single blow.

“You little bastard, you dare lay hands on me? This isn’t the old days anymore. I’ll show you what the end of the world really means!” Old Zhang, feeling provoked, kicked away the knife and brought down his broad axe, cleaving the youth’s skull in an instant.

“Xiangzi! Old Zhang, damn you, I’ll kill you!” Old Wu watched his nephew die before his eyes and, with a howl of grief, charged forward swinging an iron rod. But the few men and women behind him cowered, none daring to move. Two even quietly edged away, preparing to flee at the first sign of trouble.

“Heh, Old Wu, I’ve had enough of you. You’re just wasting food staying alive. Let me send you off!” Old Zhang, bloodthirsty now, swung his axe and struck Old Wu’s neck, nearly severing it. The body toppled with a sickening lurch; in the blink of an eye, both uncle and nephew lay dead.

Since coming to this town, Shen Lie had spent most of his time gathering supplies and honing his skills. Rarely had he witnessed such brutal conflict between survivors. The savagery of the struggle stunned him; he hardly had time to intervene.

“Does this sort of violence happen often?” Shen Lie asked Zhang Jing, noticing her calm expression and suddenly understanding.

“All the time. Our team had fifteen people before you arrived.” Zhang Jing’s reply was terse, but its meaning was soaked in blood.

A heavy sense of suffocation welled up in Shen Lie’s chest. He knew that the law of the jungle was unavoidable at the end of the world, but witnessing such bloody brutality firsthand, he still could not remain unmoved. Perhaps, with time, he would become numb to it all, but for now, he needed to vent his anger.

“Well? Any more complaints from you idiots?” Old Zhang crowed triumphantly, snatching the plastic bag from Old Wu’s lifeless hand and leering at the terrified men and women.

Suddenly, he caught sight of a woman in the group who had tried to slip away, her face smeared with black ash. She looked familiar. Grinning, he recognized her.

“Haha! Isn’t this the little girl from the Huang family? Why blacken your face like that? Last year, you wouldn’t marry my son—well, he’s not around anymore, but his old man will take his place!”

“Get over here! Anyone tries to run, and I’ll kill every last one of you!” Old Zhang roared, his outburst so ferocious that the others dared not make a sound.