Chapter Six: The Underworld

Watching as Heizi and Dashu, those two thuggish ruffians, led Liu Nengtian and Guo Qingyu out the main gate, which clanged shut behind them, Jinghui couldn’t help but complain, his shoulders swollen with two massive lumps and his face so puffy it was almost unrecognizable, a sickly pallor draining all color from his features. “Brother Bin, it’s too dangerous to go out now. Why not wait a bit…”

“Enough, Jinghui! Stop panicking over nothing. From now on, you’ll work under me—I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of.” On the sofa sat a towering man, easily over six feet tall, toying with a black pistol. His skin was a deep, oily hue, a thick silver chain hung around his neck, and a stark white scar snaked from his jaw down to the nape of his neck—a striking, almost grotesque contrast that made his appearance downright menacing. His voice was domineering and direct, as if it came naturally to him.

This man was called Hong Bin, the local gang leader, notorious for his ruthlessness and cruelty. This time, he’d come to Qingshui Bay to steal factory materials with Jinghui, never expecting to get caught up in all this. Now, his mood was as precarious as a tightrope walker’s.

“Besides, if you hadn’t been so impatient, I’d still be living the good life back in town. Would I be stuck in this mess right now?” Hong Bin seethed with pent-up anger—if Jinghui hadn’t insisted today was the perfect opportunity, he wouldn’t have come all this way to suffer, nearly losing his life in the process. One of his trusted men was dead, another seriously wounded. How could he not be frustrated?

The cargo this time was valuable, so he’d come personally to oversee it. But before they could even load the goods, monsters began appearing everywhere. If not for his loyal, hardened men—each with a streak of violence—and the pistol he carried, which had managed to blow the head off one of those spider creatures, none of them might have made it back to this shelter.

But seeing the electricity suddenly rage out of control, like a wild stallion, destroying every device in the buildings and vehicles, even causing explosions and fires, not to mention the two suns in the sky, Hong Bin realized the world had truly changed. Perhaps the real apocalypse had arrived; otherwise, why had there been no word from the authorities for so long? They must be overwhelmed themselves.

Maybe this was his chance. He could build something bigger and better than before—a perfect time to rise.

He stroked the pistol in his hand, which gave him immense confidence. With it, he held the power to instill terror and command. Now, he needed food and more followers to achieve something great.

Jinghui and the others would be the first batch of subordinates—just the beginning of his expansion.

Jinghui’s face cycled from green to white, the swelling making his already pale features a veritable palette of misery. He wanted to protest, thinking, “I haven’t said a word, and you still blame me for bringing you here, you heartless bastard. If I hadn’t been forced to deal with you, would I have ended up so wretched? Now, even my loyal partners have been taken by you.”

He glanced nervously at Hong Bin, who was idly playing with the gun. He wanted to resist but was powerless. “Black-hearted Bin” wasn’t just a nickname—he was infamous in town for his cruelty. Otherwise, how could someone this brash and unrefined become the boss? Jinghui forced a smile. “Yes, yes, it’s all my fault. If not for me, none of this would’ve happened. But, Brother Bin, why do you need so much food? There’s enough here for all of us for over a month. By then, the authorities will have rescued us.”

“You don’t get it. Look at the two suns in the sky—the whole world has changed. Monsters are everywhere, nowhere is safe, and the authorities probably can’t help themselves now. In this kind of environment, when the food runs out, nobody will be producing more. It won’t matter if you’re a high official, a tycoon, a cop, or a farmer—if there’s nothing to eat, you’re finished. That’s what it means to prepare for a rainy day.” As he spoke, Hong Bin couldn’t help but admire his own foresight, a smile spreading across his face. His oily black skin, thick silver chain, and the white centipede-like scar made for a jarring sight, especially with his mouth agape—he looked every bit the ruthless villain.

“Alright, from now on you work for me. When I make it to the top, you’ll have your share.” Hong Bin’s dark face lit up with excitement as he slapped Jinghui’s thin shoulder approvingly, as if to say, “I have high hopes for you, kid.”

Jinghui could only remain silent—what choice did he have? These days, nobody cared about your consent. When the world had descended into chaos, you could die and no one would even know how it happened. If you weren’t as strong as others, you had no right to resist.

…

On the street, four figures crept along furtively, skulking like thieves.

“Brother Heizi, where exactly are we going? That building over there is open—there’s definitely food inside. Why go so far?” The speaker was a man under five-foot-seven, wearing a tight black T-shirt that showed off his muscles. He clutched a metal pipe over a meter long, nervously tugging at the sleeve of the tall, dark-skinned man ahead of him, his eyes darting everywhere.

If Liang Jing were here, he’d recognize this as Liu Nengtian, the warehouse manager from their factory—a slick talker and notorious braggart whom Liang Jing had never cared for and rarely spoke to.

“No rush. We’ll hit the supermarket first. Guo Qingyu, you lead the way—Tree and I aren’t familiar with the area,” Heizi replied, gripping a long machete, his eyes wary and scanning their surroundings. Out in the open, with monsters possibly lurking at any moment, it was no joke. He didn’t have the patience for Liu Nengtian’s chatter.

“Got it, Brother Heizi. Don’t worry, I’ve lived here all my life—I’ll get us there fast and safe. Should we head for the Qianbaihui Supermarket or Hualian Supermarket?” Guo Qingyu, timid and soft-spoken, always stuck close to Liu Nengtian, perhaps thinking it made him look important. Like Liu, he was a warehouse manager at Liang Jing’s factory, a native of Qingshui Bay. Hong Bin was currently holed up in his house, and the fishing net in his hand was also from home—a rare sight outside of actual fishermen.

“Which is closer? We’ll go to the nearest one first.” Heizi glanced around, ever vigilant.

“Brother Heizi, what do you think is going on? There are two suns in the sky, it’s as hot as summer in the middle of winter, and monsters are everywhere—look at all these corpses and blood. If it’s like this everywhere, how many people must have died?” Guo Qingyu, though timid and with his belly swollen from two mutant mosquito bites, couldn’t help but voice his confusion about this messed-up world.

“Who knows? Those damned monsters killed Dongzi, and Yao Jingyuan was seriously injured by a mutated spider. Sigh, forget it. Just listen to Brother Bin—clear out the supermarkets, take whatever you want. There’s no one in charge now. With two suns in the sky, you know it’s the same all over the world. No transportation, no communication—the authorities won’t be able to help us now.”

Nearly all devices on Earth used electricity, but after Earth’s “transition,” electricity had become so volatile that anything connected to power was destroyed, exploded, or burned. Civilization had regressed a hundred years in an instant.

“Brother Tree, I heard that last time you clashed with Zhen Xi Liang’s crew, you beat those two guys so badly they cried for their mothers. Is it true you chopped off an arm?” Liu Nengtian’s face was tense, his eyes shifty, as if he expected a monster to leap out at any moment.

Tree—one of the four men Hong Bin had brought from town—was stoic and rarely showed emotion. In a fight, though, he was vicious, leaving people crippled rather than dead, his cruelty legendary. Though he’d never killed anyone, the number of people he’d disabled was in the dozens. He earned his nickname because when he swung his knife, it was as if he were chopping wood, never blinking an eye.

Tree nodded mechanically in response.

“Brother Tree, was it you who crippled the lame security guard from Xinghui Factory?” Liu Nengtian pressed on, not daring to object to Tree’s indifference. He knew all too well what kind of man Tree was. He brought up a recent rumor—how the security guard, too dutiful for his own good, had caught Tree and his crew stealing special steel and called the police. Tree had hacked him in the right knee, leaving his leg permanently straight and useless—a lifelong cripple.

Tree, his gaze fixed ahead, turned his cloudy eyes toward Liu Nengtian and nodded.

Liu Nengtian shivered under that look, a chill running down his spine. He dared not say another word—the incident was still fresh.

In this town, Hong Bin, Tree, and their gang of thugs were the most notorious around, though of course nothing compared to the real underworld of big cities or the movies.

…

Gazing up at the twin suns, Liang Jing felt a sense of certainty settle in his heart—the world had truly changed, and on a global scale. Every car, appliance, and electric device was ruined. Anything powered up was instantly destroyed; anything not connected was useless anyway.

Whether it was a shift in the magnetic field or some new law of nature, he didn’t know and couldn’t find out. All he needed to know was that without these things, Earth’s transportation and communications were paralyzed. Society was in chaos—anything could happen, just as he’d read in online apocalypse novels: people going mad, burning, killing, looting, and worse.

Civilization was regressing—perhaps it was a new beginning.

More importantly, humanity, once proud as the pinnacle of creation, might now be relegated to the bottom of the food chain. Without guns and ammunition—and with nuclear weapons and missiles rendered useless by the loss of electronics—what could they do? If you tried to ignite a missile or nuke manually, you’d only kill yourself along with it.

Of course, firearms were still dangerous, and for a while humans still had some power. But, like food, how would they make more? Handmade weapons were far too slow and difficult.

Unless humans found a way to increase their own strength, the next rulers of Earth might be something else entirely.

Shaking off these thoughts, he donned a silver-gray motorcycle helmet and a pair of leather gloves—scavenged from his landlord—and headed toward the supermarket.

He hadn’t learned much from Gao Fuyu earlier; she still hadn’t grasped that the world had changed, waiting naively for rescue from the authorities.

Buzz, buzz, buzz…

It was a sound Liang Jing had grown to like. As long as their numbers weren’t overwhelming, he could handle them. With his physique now four times stronger than an ordinary person’s, wielding a machete, he could even strike down flying mutant mosquitoes—though his accuracy wasn’t perfect.

After years as a butcher, Liang Jing’s knife skills and reflexes were sharp—otherwise, who could possibly hit those agile, darting mutant mosquitoes?