76 An Encounter with a Traveling Party

Snowcott Parkinson once said, “Procrastination is the ultimate denial.”

“We can’t keep dragging this out!” Mo Yu turned to Qing Xuan, who was leaning against her back. “I remember there’s a small path leading out of town from here. If we follow it, we’ll see a mountain—not too tall but quite steep. I’ve been there before; it’s not high, but the incline is sharp. If we head there, we should be able to avoid most of the zombies.”

“Alright!” Qing Xuan glanced at the zombies, each scrambling over the next in a desperate climb, their hands nearly reaching the two’s ankles. No matter how hard they tried to fend them off, it was futile; there were simply too many—at least a thousand by a rough estimate.

“Do you remember the map we saw earlier?” Mo Yu asked.

“I do. Heading this way brings us closest to the capital.” Qing Xuan pointed.

Mo Yu followed Qing Xuan’s gesture, then surveyed the terrain from above. “We need to veer off the route to the capital a bit. If we run diagonally to the right along this path, we’ll reach the small mountain in about two kilometers.” Seeing Qing Xuan listen intently, Mo Yu continued, “Do you see those protrusions?” She pointed to several distant doorways, each topped with auspicious guardian beasts. “When the time comes, just step on those protrusions, and we’ll be able to break through the encirclement!”

“Got it!” Qing Xuan nodded. “What about you?” he asked, turning his head.

“You go first. Don’t worry about me—I have something else to take care of,” Mo Yu urged.

“Alright. Take care of yourself,” Qing Xuan replied, full of concern for his beloved despite trusting her abilities.

Mo Yu watched as Qing Xuan used the zombies climbing up as leverage, swiftly breaking out of the siege. A faint sense of pride washed over her.

“Alright—now it’s our turn to play, my dear little ones,” Mo Yu murmured, gazing at the dense horde of zombies with a mysterious smile.

She hadn’t forgotten the coins dropped when she slew zombies earlier. She’d tried to gather them, only to realize they were virtual—visible but intangible. She thought she’d lost them, but soon discovered the coins were automatically absorbed into her space. Mo Yu suddenly understood; with this newfound benefit, she wasn’t about to pass up such a lucrative opportunity. Now, looking at the ravenous zombies, she saw them as pure gold.

The zombies climbing the wall seemed unsettled, an inexplicable urge to flee overtaking them.

But Mo Yu wouldn’t let them escape. With a backward somersault, she landed on a neighboring street, intent on catching them off guard.

The zombies turned, and Mo Yu met them head-on. Her Tang blade danced in the air, weaving countless indistinct arcs—a spectacle dazzling to behold. The zombies’ heads rolled across the ground like watermelons, while golden virtual coins hovered above their bodies.

For a moment, gold, red, and white phantoms intertwined, painting a scene as brilliant as a masterpiece.

“Cough, cough!” Unaware, Mo Yu found zombie blood splattered into her mouth, its fetid stench assaulting her senses—she was instantly nauseated.

---

Perhaps there had been many tourists when the apocalypse struck; no matter how many zombies Mo Yu slew, their numbers did not diminish, but instead grew ever denser. Distracted, she checked the transaction panel in her space and found she had accumulated around six hundred virtual coins. Besides the three hundred-coin reward for killing over three hundred zombies, if each zombie equaled a coin, she had slaughtered nearly three hundred in the horde. The prolonged swinging of her blade left her wrist sore and her body filthy. Mo Yu was growing weary, but the surrounding zombies felt no fatigue. She was genuinely beginning to regret her choices.

As she wondered if she would truly die at the hands of zombies, she continued to mechanically wield her weapon.

“Damn it!” she cursed suddenly, her hands numb. When she tried to strike a zombie, her Tang blade got stuck in its skull. The wounded zombie, enraged, shook its head and lunged at her.

A soldier without a weapon on the battlefield is doomed. Weighing her options, Mo Yu decided to retreat, but escape was easier said than done. She could only watch as the snarling zombies closed in on her.

“Beep—beep—!” Suddenly, the blare of car horns and a burst of high beams flashed, dazzling both Mo Yu and the zombies. The zombies’ noses were the ultimate human flesh detectors; instantly, they stirred as if injected with adrenaline.

Mo Yu ducked the furious zombie, seized her chance, and sprinted away, vaulting over the low wall with agile movements.

She dared not act rashly; unsure if the newcomers were friend or foe, she crouched to observe. A truck capable of carrying thirty to fifty people had arrived, its yellow and green paint blending perfectly with the natural surroundings. As it halted, many people disembarked—men and women of varied heights, ages, and attire, but all moved with practiced coordination, their actions swift and disciplined. Their weapons were uniformly issued.

Losang Town was a tourist haven near the capital, neither too close nor too far. If this was a private group, they were likely collecting supplies, which meant a base nearby. If they were a government team, Mo Yu hoped to join them, making it easier to search for her family.

“Third! Left side!” A bearded man shouted, firing his rifle. The zombies had gathered in the thousands, catching the team off guard and causing confusion. Old Hu, seeing Third frozen in place—his nerves failing him—grew anxious.

Third had some connections, earning a spot in this well-compensated team through favoritism. Though his teammates disliked him, he hadn’t caused trouble, so no one said much.

Mo Yu, watching from the sidelines, frowned. That man looked so familiar… He resembled the one she and her cousin had vied to please in her past life. Mo Yu broke out in a cold sweat. Was this fate? Was it time for revenge? Yet she couldn’t even recall his name.

Nearby, the zombies wailed in protest—why were they so unthreatening?

The newcomers drew most of the zombies away, but plenty still surrounded Mo Yu, including the one with her Tang blade lodged in its head.

Mo Yu had recovered some strength and had observed the team for a while. She noticed they seemed here only to kill zombies. Each time they slew one, they claimed a trophy—much like a victorious army collecting ears from the defeated, cruel yet logical. They weren’t searching for supplies, at least not yet, so Mo Yu surmised this was a government-organized squad tasked specifically with exterminating zombies.

Despite the old foe, Mo Yu decided it was worth trying to join them.

She seized the moment to pull her Tang blade from the furious zombie’s skull, dispatching it in the process. Glancing at her blood-stained clothes, and assuming her face was equally filthy, Mo Yu wiped her face and stood tall.

“Old Hu! Toss me a grenade! I’m out over here!” shouted a woman in tight clothing, her face smeared with grime.

---

“Here!” Old Hu threw her one. “Careful with the blast, we still need to collect rewards!”

“You’re a sly one!” the woman laughed, and Old Hu chuckled along.

“Hey, look! Since when did zombies have such good balance?” Old Hu leveled his rifle at Mo Yu, who was walking a straight line atop the wall.

“Wait, is that a person?” the woman exclaimed.

“Is it? She’s filthy as a bird.” Old Hu’s beard quivered in surprise.

Mo Yu, now close, thought, “...As a woman, hearing this is truly wounding!”

She dodged the zombies and landed lightly.

“Stop! Don’t move!” The woman aimed her rifle at Mo Yu.

Mo Yu, though speechless, complied obediently—they were just being cautious, after all.

“How can you prove you’re not a zombie?” the woman demanded.

Mo Yu wondered if the woman’s brain had been gnawed by zombies or if her intelligence had simply failed her. Without a word, she dashed back into the zombie horde.

Old Hu and his crew stared in astonishment as Mo Yu—a seemingly frail young girl—brandished her blade in the midst of zombies, fighting with remarkable flair. Despite her filth, she appeared almost godlike in their eyes; after all, no one had ever single-handedly entered a zombie swarm and slain nearly a hundred in less than an hour.

“Is that proof enough?” Mo Yu wiped the blood from her face and turned to ask.