Chapter 025: The Power Enhancer

Meanwhile, from the depths of a forest, a figure emerged—a young man over six feet tall, with a sturdy, muscular build. He wore a light blue short-sleeved shirt, over which was strapped a black bulletproof vest, an odd combination that seemed both outlandish and intimidating. His exposed arms were thick and powerful, the muscles bulging beneath skin inked with entwined tattoos of tigers and azure dragons, coiling and twisting together.

His expression was fierce and menacing, the kind that made it clear he was not a man to be trifled with at a single glance. This was Chen Feng—the very man mentioned by the one wearing the black-and-green helmet. Chen Feng had once been a notorious figure in the underworld, his life a constant cycle of fighting and brawling; violence was his trade.

“Understood, boss.”

At the command, Chen Feng instantly moved to cut off Li Gang’s retreat, his face twisted in a snarl. Without a word, he raised his gun and fired at Li Gang the moment he caught a glimpse of him. His marksmanship was leagues ahead of the man in the helmet—steady, accurate, merciless. One shot struck Li Gang directly.

Fortunately, Li Gang wore a bulletproof vest, and the bullet struck home against it. Thanks to his extraordinary physical prowess, the impact barely hindered him, though it did force him back behind cover.

Seeing this, the man in the helmet grew excited and shouted a warning: “Chen Feng, that kid’s wearing body armor! Aim for somewhere else!”

Shots rang out in response, forcing the helmeted man to roll desperately out of the way, his escape bordering on the pathetic. The shots had come from Li Gang.

After firing, Li Gang ignored the helmeted man and turned his focus on Chen Feng. If he wanted to escape unharmed, he had to break through Chen Feng’s line—there was no other way. The other route was exposed, with little cover, and the sniper waited in that direction; heading that way would be suicide.

Rolling out from behind cover, Li Gang fired several shots at Chen Feng, advancing three or four meters before seeking refuge behind a new obstacle. Chen Feng dodged and rolled, returning fire as he pressed in on Li Gang.

Throughout this exchange, the sniper never fired a shot; even so, an invisible pressure hung heavy, keeping Li Gang cautious and mostly pinned down.

Minutes passed. When Li Gang’s last bullet was spent and he reached into his pack for more, another man had already closed the distance—just four or five meters away. He appeared suddenly, knife in hand, and lunged at Li Gang.

Li Gang dodged the blade, his reflexes swift, seizing the attacker’s wrist. They grappled on the ground, locked in a tense struggle. Within seconds, Li Gang’s superior strength and stamina won out—he reversed the position, pinning his opponent beneath him. Only then did he catch a glimpse of the man's true face beneath the helmet: an unremarkable man in his forties.

Li Gang's face twisted in a snarl, madness and desperation flashing in his eyes. He pinned the man beneath him, drew his own knife, and prepared to deliver a fatal blow.

At that moment, he caught sight of Chen Feng a few meters away, raising his gun. Instinctively, Li Gang released his captive, rolling aside just in time.

He lunged at Chen Feng, catching him off guard and knocking the gun from his hand.

Chen Feng spun and delivered a powerful kick to Li Gang’s midsection. The force was tremendous—Li Gang felt as if he’d been struck by a battering ram, rolling across the ground several times before coming to a halt.

“A strength-enhanced fighter?” Li Gang realized at once that Chen Feng must have invested heavily in physical strength—no ordinary man could deliver such a blow.

But Li Gang was no ordinary man, either. He sprang to his feet, no worse for wear, his stamina and resilience formidable.

Clutching his knife, Li Gang let out a shout and charged at Chen Feng, who was reaching for his fallen gun. Gripping his knife in a reverse hold, Li Gang drove it toward Chen Feng’s lower abdomen, deliberately avoiding the bulletproof vest in a burst of desperate savagery.

Chen Feng caught sight of the attack, a cold smile flickering across his lips. He abandoned his gun, dodged nimbly, and hammered a punch into Li Gang’s face, sending him sprawling.

Blood trickled from Li Gang’s mouth, but he merely shook his head and rose again, charging once more. Chen Feng’s eyes flashed with surprise—he had invested more than half his enhancement points into strength, reaching a staggering 258, far beyond the norm. The punch he’d just thrown could shatter a thick wooden board, yet Li Gang had only spit blood, not even losing a tooth. It was astonishing.

What Chen Feng did not know was that Li Gang had long trained alone, only recently using his enhancement points, most of which he’d invested into stamina. His endurance had surpassed 300, reaching 313, making him nearly impervious to harm.

Earlier, when struck by a small-caliber bullet, the shell had lodged only in the muscle beneath his skin, not even touching bone—a testament to the toughness of his body.

Though startled by Li Gang’s resilience, Chen Feng soon noticed the wild, reckless abandon in his attacks—driven more by ferocity than skill. A smirk of disdain crept onto Chen Feng’s face.

After all, Chen Feng had lived as a street enforcer, sometimes working as a hired hand for wealthy clients. He fought often, and his experience far surpassed that of a hot-headed amateur like Li Gang.

It was a strange twist of fate that the helmeted man—Jia Tianming—was one of those wealthy clients. In the city of WH, Jia Tianming was well-connected on both sides of the law, cunning and resourceful, and had built a respectable enterprise. When everyone disappeared that day, Jia Tianming called everyone he knew, and by chance, reached Chen Feng. Their acquaintance led them to band together. Though Jia Tianming was less skilled and less experienced in combat than Chen Feng, his cunning made him the de facto leader.

As Li Gang charged, Chen Feng waited until the last moment before sidestepping calmly, then drove a fist into Li Gang’s abdomen and seized his knife hand, wrenching it until Li Gang let go.

Though the blow to his stomach hurt, Li Gang’s stamina kept him from losing fighting strength. He drew a second knife with his other hand, slashing Chen Feng’s arm just as Chen Feng tried to wrench the limb. The blade carved a cut a centimeter deep and several centimeters long, blood flowing freely.

Chen Feng gritted his teeth, releasing his grip, his eyes growing ever fiercer as he stepped back.

Li Gang, panting lightly, stood his ground, undaunted by Chen Feng’s murderous glare.

“If you want my life, you’ll have to pay for it with your own blood—or your own life!” Li Gang grinned wildly, his voice ringing with madness.

Perhaps, before the apocalypse, someone like Chen Feng could have easily intimidated the old Li Gang. But now, after so many brushes with death, fear no longer held the same power.

Why hasn’t their sniper fired a single shot? Li Gang wondered. Is he so lacking in confidence that he’s afraid of hitting his own teammates? He remembered the earlier shot that had missed by half a meter, and understood.

“You little bastard! You’ve managed to piss me off. I’m going to break every limb you have—then take my time torturing you to death!” Chen Feng roared in fury at Li Gang’s words.