Chapter 57: The Mysterious Object (Second Update)

All right, Old Jia, let us first find the group of migrants ahead. It is getting dark, and in this desolate wilderness we need to find a safe place to spend the night.

Liang Jing glanced at Jia Yujin, who was about to sit cross-legged on the ground and imitate Liang Jing’s method of cultivation, and hurriedly cut him off. The sun was already setting, and night would fall at any moment. This place was by no means safe, and there was not even a spot to block the wind. Who could bear an entire night of cold gusts?

At once, everyone got to work cleaning the scene. No one knew when the other side would notice something was wrong. If they did nothing, it would be troublesome when they came looking again.

Of the other side’s five awakened fighters, the one called Yellow Brother, Huang Yanze, had already died and become one of Liang Jing’s zombie servants; the remaining four underlings were all dead as well. The first two had been hacked apart and bled to death from shock, while the latter two were stabbed to death by Wu Aimin. The bodies only needed to be dragged a little way into some secluded corner; as long as they were hard to find for the moment, they would certainly be devoured by mutated beasts drawn by the smell of blood.

But their bodies yielded a great haul: four Type 81 automatic rifles, and nearly five hundred rounds of ammunition. That alone thrilled everyone. These were far better than the two Type 56 semi-automatic rifles from before. Even if Liang Jing did not use them himself, handing them to his subordinates would be excellent, greatly increasing the strength of the group.

The Type 81 automatic rifle had a theoretical rate of fire of 600 to 750 rounds per minute. Its all-up weight and overall length were 955 mm, or 1104 mm with bayonet attached. The magazine held 30 rounds with a standard magazine. Its effective range was 400 meters against a single target and 500 meters against clustered targets. Even at 400 meters, its projectile could still penetrate an 8-millimeter A3 steel plate, or 40 centimeters of loose soil. Within 2,000 meters, the bullet remained lethal. Its operation was based on a rotating-bolt locking system; its parts were made by stamping; and its sighting system consisted of a post front sight and a tangent rear sight with an open notch. The sight radius was 315 mm, and the front sight height was 40 mm.

It was a standard rifle in the national army. Development was ordered in 1979, the design was finalized in 1981, and in 1983 it entered mass production and was formally issued to the troops. The version with a fixed wooden stock was called the Type 81 automatic rifle, while the version with a folding metal stock was called the Type 81-1 automatic rifle. Together with the Type 81 light machine gun, it formed the Type 81 family of weapons. The three shared the same main structure, and their operating mechanism, recoil system, firing mechanism, gas system, and feeding devices could all be swapped interchangeably across the family. About sixty-five parts were fully interchangeable, and the overall commonality of the remaining parts reached seventy percent.

So this Young Master Tu really did have ties to the military. Who would have thought he even equipped his lowest-ranking men with such excellent weapons? Liang Jing looked at the firearms in his hands, the same kind he often saw in television and films, and already formed some thoughts of his own. If he could avoid trouble by wearing a mask, then so be it.

He also picked up the items dropped by the awakened fighter, Huang Yanze. Liang Jing’s eyes suddenly flared with brilliance—good stuff!

This was a windfall.

After everything was tidied up, they did not waste time. They immediately headed toward the direction indicated by the information they had just received.

In a room in a building in a small village, the decoration and furnishings were quite good. It was among the finest houses in the village. At that moment, however, the room was filled with the sound of violent impacts, along with the constant cries and moans of a woman, occasionally interrupted by the panting of a man and low, cramped laughter.

A peculiar stifling, lust-laden odor hung in the air.

A tall, powerful man was thrusting relentlessly into a slim, fair-skinned woman with long hair. His hand repeatedly came down hard on her body, causing the woman, who was on all fours in a humiliating posture, to let out shrill cries. Her alluring body was already covered in wounds, with bruises and purple-black marks everywhere.

Four other women lay nearby on the floor. Some were on their backs, some face down; some had already passed out. Their bodies were also covered in swollen bruises, and some were even bleeding from the mouth. Their eyes were either vacant as they muttered softly without sound, or filled with terror, despair, pain, and fear.

Knock, knock, knock.

At that moment, someone knocked at the door. The handsome but sinister man, still in the midst of his abuse, frowned and paid no attention. He swung his hand down hard against the woman beneath him, and her upturned rear was already red and swollen; one could even see specks of blood seeping out. Unable to bear it, the woman let out another piercing scream.

“Shout! You bitch, shout louder!”

The man seemed displeased. With his left hand, he seized the woman’s glossy black hair and yanked her backward, cursing loudly.

“Woof! Woof! Woof! Ah—”

The woman’s expression was unbearably pained, mixed with faint despair, helplessness, and terror. Unwittingly, her mouth issued the bark-like cries of a female dog.

“Haha! Good, good, that’s it. You’re all bitches, so that’s how you should behave. Why not just be obedient? So cheap! Looking for it, begging for it. I’ll screw you to death, you slut!”

The man heard the doglike cries beneath him and grew even more flushed. Excitement flashed wildly in his eyes. He thrust harder and harder, his left hand dragging her by the hair while his right hand kept slapping hard against the woman’s swollen flesh. As though riding a horse, he fancied himself a knight, paying no heed whatsoever to the woman’s agony. In fact, the more she screamed in pain, the more excited and frenzied he became, the more violently he moved.

Knock, knock, knock.

The knocking came again.

“Master,” said a deep, middle-aged voice from outside. It was Steward Xie.

“Come in, Steward Xie,” the sinister man said, frowning slightly, though his body did not slow in the least. The woman beneath him was already so hoarse from screaming that she seemed on the verge of losing consciousness and fainting.

“Master.”

When Steward Xie, with his square face, entered the room, he did not seem at all affected by the debauched atmosphere inside. His expression did not change, and he kept his eyes lowered, not glancing at the women nearby.

“How did it go?”

The man was none other than Young Master Tu. He knew the matter he had instructed them to handle should have yielded some result by now.

“We already sent people out, Master, and quite a few groups and factions took the initiative to help. We searched through the crowd, but found no sign of him. However, the crowd was chaotic, so there may still be places we overlooked.”

“In that case, he may truly not be among the crowd. Send the order down: keep searching. No one is to stop without my command. Whoever finds him first will be rewarded handsomely.”

Hearing that no one had been found, Young Master Tu did not give up. His face darkened at once. He redoubled his movements, climaxed, then kicked the woman beneath him away. She flew two or three meters before landing heavily. The woman, who had already been half unconscious, was jolted awake by the searing pain. She screamed, then thudded to the ground, writhing in misery.

“Master, perhaps he has disguised himself, which makes him difficult to recognize. Should we ask Dai Wu to take a look and help out?”

After all, Dai Wu had seen the man with his own eyes. If they met again, even if he were disguised, he would still be easier to identify and could surely be of help.

“No need. If anyone with a face similar to the portrait is found, seize him at once. Tell the subordinates to be ready. If they resist, kill them directly. By then, even if he is not the real one, he will still be useful to me. It has been a long time since I played a game.”

Young Master Tu seemed to have found something else entertaining, and told Steward Xie to capture a few men for him to play this “game” with. His face had gone a little red with excitement.

Hearing that Young Master Tu was again going to capture people to play his “game,” Steward Xie, who had rarely shown much expression before, changed color slightly, as if he had glimpsed something truly horrifying.

“Yes, yes,” he answered quickly, lowering his head.

“Hmm. As for Dai Wu, you need not mind him. By the way, how is he now?”

“Dai Wu injured his bones this time. I’m afraid it will take quite a while before he recovers fully.”

“Hmm. Send him some beast meat, and choose one of the women in this room to send to him as well. I still have use for Dai Wu, so we must keep him on our side.”

Young Master Tu attached great importance to Dai Wu, constantly sending him what he considered fine things: beast meat and women. In his mind, Dai Wu was still useful. He had many awakened fighters under him, but compared with Dai Wu and Steward Xie, there was still a certain gap.

Sorry, something came up, so I can only keep to two updates a day for now...

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