Chapter 44: The Supermarket
Damn! Even though Zhou Yan was now emboldened by his skills, he couldn’t help but be startled by the sight of such a gigantic mosquito. However, despite his surprise, his movements didn’t pause for a second. Facing the monstrous mosquito hurtling toward him, its proboscis sharp and menacing like an iron spike, he swung his palm and slapped it hard to the ground!
Smack!
The giant mosquito was instantly rendered immobile, and then he stomped it flat.
[You have slain the “Corrosive Giant Mosquito,” gained 6 points of Spirit.]
...
[Corrosive Giant Mosquito]
[Type: Demon Insect]
[Description: A mosquito mutated and infected by the Corrosive Miasma. Its size has multiplied hundreds or even thousands of times. If bitten and injected with its venom, flesh will rapidly decay and liquefy from the wound, ultimately turning the victim into a pool of foul fluid.]
[Rating: 0 stars, 0 rank]
[Attributes: Physique 1, Agility 1, Spirit 0]
[Note: Bzzzz—]
[Detected a suitable object of chaos. Do you wish to record this as a material for the talent “Ultra-Fusion”?]
Zhou Yan watched the green fluid spurt out and smiled faintly.
“To be honest, this mosquito got bigger, but it actually seems much easier to deal with...”
Normal, non-mutated mosquitoes are tiny and stealthy, and even if you spot one, it can vanish in an instant as if it’s turned invisible. They’re the fiends that keep countless people awake at night, itching so badly they want to scratch every bite raw.
But once a mosquito gets this big...
It gave Zhou Yan the impression of a reverse mutation.
The next moment, his brows arched and he quickened his pace, breaking into a run.
From the mist behind him came the faint, overlapping sound of many wings beating.
A single overgrown mosquito was manageable, but a swarm—that could be truly dangerous.
*
Amid a rapid series of footsteps, Zhou Yan’s figure emerged from the fog. Following the faint glimmers of light within the haze, he soon saw the outline of a large building looming indistinctly—a big convenience store, or perhaps even a supermarket.
The light he’d seen through the fog came from this building, whose entire façade consisted of floor-to-ceiling glass.
He picked up his pace and soon reached the entrance—a pair of massive sliding glass doors.
Several people stood just behind the doors, craning their necks to peer anxiously into the mist.
Zhou Yan burst suddenly from the fog, startling them so much that they leapt back, exclaiming words akin to “F**K” or “Holy s**t” in English. But Zhou Yan recognized that, while the language sounded similar to English, it was in fact some other tongue.
He rushed to the doors and called out loudly, speaking in the same language as the people inside.
“Open up!”
Clearly, the great power that let him “walk the Calamity Realm” had gifted him some sort of automatic translation ability—not only could he understand, but he could speak it as well.
The people inside exchanged uneasy glances, hesitant and uncertain.
A second later, behind him in the mist, came the sound of something massive moving, dragging itself across the ground.
Zhou Yan’s expression darkened. He quickly scanned the ground and picked up a steel pipe—he had no idea why it was there, but the large pool of blood beside it suggested something bad had happened recently.
He hefted the pipe and strode coldly to the glass doors, taking up a batter’s stance as the people inside watched in terror.
“Stop!” “Madman! Stop right there!”
The people inside waved their arms frantically across their chests, signaling for him to halt. One of them quickly pressed a button on the door.
Zhou Yan watched as the doors slid open on both sides. A cold smile curled beneath the mask covering his mouth, and he lowered the pipe, striding into the supermarket.
The outside mist seemed almost alive, trying to follow him inside, but was thwarted by the doors clicking shut.
Turning back, his sharp gaze caught sight of a monstrous figure, as large as a lion or tiger, retreating slowly just beyond the glass in the swirling fog.
An odd light flashed in his eyes.
“You almost got us all killed, kid!” “Break this door and you’re finished!”
“Let’s teach you a lesson!”
...
The men who’d reluctantly opened the doors for him crowded around, cursing.
The next instant, Zhou Yan swung the steel pipe.
Bang—crack!
A dull thud followed by the crisp sound of bone breaking echoed out. Three men, unable to dodge in time, crumpled to the floor, clutching their arms and groaning in pain—although, as if remembering something, they quickly stifled their cries and lowered their voices.
The two luckier men backed away, fear in their eyes.
Zhou Yan calmly rested the steel pipe on his shoulder, scanning the interior.
In the dim light, besides the five men at the entrance, nearly twenty people of varied skin tones and genders stood behind the checkout counter, separated by a security barrier.
All of them stared at him in terror.
Shouldering the pipe, missing his left hand, right eye tightly shut, the lower half of his face obscured, and clad in skintight black gear that no normal person would ever wear publicly—his appearance was striking, and paired with his recent violence, impossible to ignore.
“What are you all staring at?”
He spoke in a calm, low voice. “They tried to gang up on me. I just defended myself, that’s all.”
With that, he strode forward, easily stepping over the counter gate.
As he advanced, everyone—men, women, old and young—instinctively retreated several steps, clearing a path for him.
Zhou Yan, steel pipe in hand, wandered deeper into the sizable supermarket, glancing casually over the shelves as he went.
He grabbed something akin to a Snickers bar.
“I advise you to put that down. All supplies here must be distributed according to the will of God.”
A hoarse, raspy female voice rang out.
He turned to see an old woman with disheveled hair and a peculiar, sinister aura. She stared at Zhou Yan unblinkingly, her eyes resolute, her bearing exuding the contempt of one in power for those beneath her.
A dozen men and women stood behind her, fixing Zhou Yan with angry, oppressive stares.
He said nothing. He simply tucked the steel pipe under his left arm, pulled down the mask hiding the lower half of his face, unwrapped the “Snickers” in full view of them, and bit off half in one go.
Chewing, he met their eyes in silence, watching their faces twist with the pain of threatened authority, yet hesitating to actually stop him.
He couldn’t help but find it amusing.
Finishing the bar, he grabbed a bottle of drink and took a swig, rinsing his mouth.
Then he flashed them a smile, baring his teeth.
“Sorry, I’m an atheist. If you feel offended, why not come over here and let me experience the so-called punishment of ‘God’? That is, if you’re not afraid of ending up like those fellows at the door.”
As he spoke, Zhou Yan raised the steel pipe with a grin.
The group, led by the old woman, glared at him with clenched jaws.
***