Chapter 106

Little Huang went home for two reasons.

First, he wanted to see whether his mother had come back.

One look would be enough to make him give up hope.

Second, he needed a weapon. He was only a middle schooler; compared with high school boys and adults, he lacked strength. A blade would serve him better than a blunt weapon like an iron bar.

He took a kitchen knife, got on his bike, and headed for the Development Zone Government offices.

Using his superpower to weave around danger all the way, he avoided every threat and finally arrived at the government building.

The Development Zone Government stood on the edge of the residential district, beside the river. Across the water lay the industrial park.

Little Huang stopped his bike and stood at the entrance. Simply standing there, he could already feel the danger inside.

But just as his junior, Wu Shuchen, had thought: so what if he could sense danger? His mother was in there. Even if it meant crossing mountains of blades and seas of fire, he had to go in.

On his shoulders were makeshift pauldrons Wu Shuchen had created for him through the sheer effort of giving himself a nosebleed. Unfinished workbooks and exercise books were strapped around his arms. A kitchen knife was clenched in his hand.

Little Huang took a deep breath and charged inside.

Huang’s mother worked in the “Bureau of Science, Technology, and Industrial Promotion” within the Development Zone Government.

Little Huang had never been here before. Everything he knew came from bits and pieces he had overheard when his parents talked in the past.

For instance: the third floor; river views outside the windows; the west side of the building. Their department had three offices, and his mother was in Office No. 2.

Armed with only that information, Little Huang stormed into the government building.

There was more than one staircase. Whenever he headed in one direction and sensed danger, he would turn around and choose another route where the feeling of danger was relatively weaker.

Little Huang did not linger to fight zombies. His first priority was not to kill them and clear the building, but to find his mother.

After biking for more than an hour, the conviction that he had to save her drove him to an astonishing burst of stamina.

He was like an ancient cavalryman charging into an enemy formation—driving forward without pause, never stopping. He swung his knife only to remove whatever stood in his way.

When a zombie snapped at him, he raised an arm to block it. As its teeth clamped down on the workbooks, he slashed out and cut away half its face, kicked it aside, and surged forward through the opening.

As long as humans put on armor and picked up weapons, primitive zombies were basically no longer a threat to their lives.

His superpower, “Danger Sense,” was still useful in combat!

In fact, it was immensely useful.

Before a second-generation zombie even pounced, Little Huang could sense it in advance. Inside a building, that advance warning amounted to only a few seconds—but a few seconds could save his life.

He had already gotten used to this superpower during the morning’s battle to retake the school. He had adapted to those urgent warnings that came only seconds ahead of time.

But now, inside the Development Zone Government building, Little Huang realized that his ability seemed to be working even better.

Beyond the few seconds of advance warning, his senses could also tell him which direction he needed to dodge in order to avoid an attack.

He just had to move quickly and precisely.

From a third-person perspective, it would look like this: the instant a second-generation zombie sprang toward him, the boy moved at the exact same moment.

In the next instant, the zombie would miss completely.

The boy and the zombie passed one another at nearly shoulder-brushing distance.

The zombie twisted its body to change direction, but the boy had already taken another step, narrowly avoiding yet another zombie.

Inside the government building, packed with zombies, the thin boy moved through them as if by some kind of miracle.

He hacked down the original zombies with his knife and stepped around the second-generation zombies.

If this had been a game, Zhao Yi and Gao Yuxuan would surely have cried out in astonishment:

“God-tier footwork!”

Little Huang had no idea that supernatural abilities could be advanced and upgraded. His “danger perception” ability had in fact evolved to the next level.

It had evolved from “long-range danger perception” into “close-range, short-duration micro-movement guidance.”

“Close range” here meant being face-to-face with a zombie, while “short duration” meant the instant it took to blink.

This dreamlike, god-tier footwork appeared as effortless as a leisurely stroll, but in reality, every nerve in Little Huang’s body was taut. He did not dare blink for even an instant.

The zombies had no intelligence and could not comprehend his existence. This piece of flesh seemed to be right there, yet whenever they reached or lunged for it, they always came up empty-handed.

But not every attempt missed.

Because of the cramped hallway and the density of the zombies, there was not always a gap between one danger, another danger, and yet another danger.

He had to choose the direction where the danger was relatively lesser and take a step forward, using his iron shoulder guard or workbook to withstand a collision or bite. In the next instant, he would swing his knife and sever the zombie’s neck.

By choosing to eliminate one danger from among countless others, he forced open a path forward where none had existed.

This was micro-control of astonishing precision.

Every muscle in his body had to remain completely taut, ready to move at a moment’s notice.

The rise and fall of his hand and the steps beneath his feet had to fit together perfectly, without even a second’s error!

Because a second-generation zombie could leap and kill in just one second.

Once, he had to choose between three second-generation zombies. He could only charge straight into one of them. At the instant it pounced, he turned his body slightly and used his shoulder guard for protection. His back slammed against the wall as the zombie bit down on his iron armor, shattering its own teeth.

His cleaver struck its neck, severing it halfway through. Its head lolled to one side, still attached to its shoulder.

Little Huang shoved it away and, without pausing, took a diagonal step forward.

With a bang, another second-generation zombie slammed into the wall where his back had rested a moment before, shattering its own nasal bone and arm.

If Little Huang had been even a fraction of a second late taking that step, the zombie would have pounced on and killed him.

It was through this combination of intense stimulation, extreme risk, and high-precision maneuvering that the hallway—previously blocked by three second-generation zombies and reduced to a dead end—had begun to reveal a way out.

Little Huang planted one foot forward, then advanced another meter.

The sustained, high-intensity use of this supernatural ability was much like Su Yu’s unbroken effort to maintain her protective shield.

They were unlike those with electrical or fire-based abilities. Each time such people released a bolt of electricity or hurled a fireball, the interval before the next attack counted as rest and recovery.

But abilities like Little Huang’s and Su Yu’s, which required continuous output, allowed no rest at all.

Pain like needles stabbed through his brain, and blood began to trickle from his nose.

Little Huang was getting a nosebleed for the first time, but Wu Shuchen had already told him that it was a side effect of overusing his superpower.

But what else could he do? He was trapped in a building crawling with zombies. He couldn’t let his power falter for even a second. The moment it stopped, he would die.

By the time he reached the third floor from the first, his school uniform was soaked through with sweat.

Blood was flowing from his nose and ears.

His throat tasted sweet and metallic.

His eardrums and brain throbbed with a pain like needles stabbing into them.

That morning, he had led his younger schoolmates in a bloody battle against the zombies.

Then he had ridden a bicycle for more than an hour.

And in truth, he hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. He had only drunk tap water to quench his thirst.

The boy’s body was already nearing its limit, burning itself out on borrowed strength under the influence of adrenaline.

His eyes hurt, and his vision was blurred.

Little Huang could no longer make out the zombies clearly. All he could sense in his perceptive field were one human-shaped outline after another, each marked as “dangerous.”

Step. Sidestep. Slash.

Little Huang had lost all emotion, including tension, worry, and fear.

He knew he had achieved a miracle.

Since the zombie virus had broken out, had anyone ever heard of a living person making his way alone through a dense mass of zombies?

No. Never.

He was a miracle.

His father and mother would surely be proud of him.

When Little Huang finally saw the sign reading “Science and Industry Promotion Bureau Office 2,” he actually smiled.

A mouthful of blood surged up his throat, and Little Huang forced it back down.

Even so, a trace of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

There were four zombies inside Office 2.

Even an ordinary person wearing protective armor couldn’t take on four zombies at once. But superpowers gave people a cheat code. Wasn’t that exactly why Heaven had granted humanity superpowers—to fight the zombies?

Even after sensing the enormous danger within, Little Huang charged inside.

The zombies from the hallway followed him in.

In the open-plan office, Little Huang darted and shifted, evading attacks by the narrowest margins before countering in an instant.

An immense danger enveloped the entire office. The boy’s life and cells were burning away.

His eyeballs throbbed with pain, and his vision grew hazier.

One. Two. Three.

Kill them. Kill them all!

Office 2 of the Science and Industry Promotion Bureau was the end of Little Huang’s journey.

There was nowhere left to bypass the zombies by weaving around them. Here, he had to kill them, because this was the end!

Kill them. Kill them all!

The cleaver’s edge curled, and every zombie in the office became a corpse on the floor.

All Little Huang could hear was his own breathing. His lungs felt ready to burst, his heart ready to split open. He could collapse at any moment.

But the “danger” lingering in the office did not disappear with the deaths of the zombies.

They were not the source of that danger.

Little Huang turned around.

There was another room within the open-plan office.

The director’s office.

Huang’s mother was the director.

The door to the director’s office had been left ajar the entire time.

Now it opened, and Huang’s mother stood in the doorway.

She had never come out. She had only watched.

Her gaze was the “danger” that had enveloped the office from beginning to end.

Because she was a third-generation zombie.

A tasteful suit. An elegant pinned-up hairstyle. Eyes black from edge to edge, without a trace of white. Skin tinted blue-green.

Little Huang had found his mother, just as he had hoped.

As her son, he had no regrets, no grievances, and nothing left undone.

Little Huang smiled.

Smiling, Little Huang shed tears of blood.

His hand loosened, and the chipped cleaver clattered to the ground.

Little Huang spread his arms, closed his eyes, and raised his head, exposing his throat.

He was ready to receive his mother’s deadly embrace.

At last, the family of three could be reunited.

Huang’s mother exhaled, then sprang forward in a murderous pounce!

The next instant, Little Huang felt the tremendous force of the impact!