Chapter 2: The System Emerges

After Roger finished explaining the situation outside, the room fell into a deathly silence, which was soon replaced by a ripple of murmurs. However, due to Roger’s presence, the noise was somewhat restrained and eventually morphed into hushed whispers among the crowd.

As a clueless newcomer to this world, Lin Xinghai naturally pricked up his ears, discreetly eavesdropping on their conversations to glean more information.

He soon learned that numbered shelters like Shelter No. 83 were small-scale refuges, lacking any real combat capability. In contrast, named shelters such as the Star Shield Shelter, which they were heading toward, were mid-sized. These mid-sized shelters were not only larger and better equipped but even housed stationed troops.

It was precisely because of this military presence that they could monitor the outside world and gather so much intelligence.

Beyond these basics, most of the talk was just speculation and rumor. Using the fragments of information he had gathered, Lin Xinghai began contemplating his options.

As Roger had said, they were essentially a bunch of defenseless “white pigs” — utterly powerless and at the mercy of others. Going to the Star Shield Shelter might not improve their situation much.

He pondered whether to accept Roger’s invitation to join his mercenary group. Though Lin Xinghai didn’t know much about mercenaries, it was clear that mercenaries were armed. If he accepted the invitation...

Wait, what had Roger said when they first met? Something about being cannon fodder?

Still, Lin Xinghai believed that joining the mercenary group wouldn’t truly mean being treated as expendable. After all, it was his B-grade genetic rating that had attracted their attention in the first place.

But the information he had was too scant. How valuable was a B-grade genetic rating in terms of cultivation? Were the mercenary group’s methods safe, or risky? He had no idea.

“Better to wait and find a chance to pry more from them,” Lin Xinghai silently resolved.

At that moment, the troop carrier they were in seemed to start up, the engine’s roar accompanied by a slight vibration throughout the vehicle.

Simultaneously, thick alloy walls surrounding them opened narrow slits—gun ports, slim but sufficient for those inside to observe outside.

Outside, over a hundred troop carriers were parked, along with more than a dozen special vehicles.

Squinting slightly, Lin Xinghai deduced that those special vehicles were likely armored personnel carriers, filled with fully armed soldiers.

His gaze shifted further, revealing the full extent of Shelter No. 83—a structure resembling a bird’s nest.

Wait, something felt off... Why was the shelter so desolate?

A twitch curled the corner of his mouth as he spotted heavy machinery in the distance cutting through the shelter’s alloy exterior, exposing bare rock beneath.

No wonder the shelter was so empty—the facilities had been dismantled, and now even the walls and flooring were being stripped away.

“In the apocalypse, every resource is precious,” Roger suddenly appeared beside him, speaking quietly.

Lin Xinghai fell silent. The world outside seemed even harsher than he had imagined.

...

There was no time for reflection as the vehicle’s ignition meant departure. One by one, the troop carriers lined up and rolled out of the shelter.

Soon, it was their turn to move, and as the vehicle progressed, Lin Xinghai finally understood how they had entered this underground refuge.

They had blasted a massive road straight down to the underground shelter using heavy engineering equipment.

Yes—a road, not a tunnel—it was far too large for that.

How to describe it?

A two-way six-lane highway!

That wide. Lin Xinghai could only marvel at the rapid advancement of technology.

Within a few minutes, the vehicles reached the surface.

...

The surface was bleak—two words summed it up: desolate and barren.

Everywhere lay ruins of collapsed buildings, not a trace of greenery nor any living creature, with the sky shrouded in a gray haze.

A cold wind swept into the vehicle, sending a chill through Lin Xinghai. Was this the Earth after the great catastrophe?

Others inside the vehicle fared worse; many broke down and wept, their hopes dashed and replaced by despair.

After reaching the surface, the convoy formed defensive formations and waited in place for half an hour.

Only after massive engineering machines hauled up loads of alloy steel did the final preparations conclude.

The convoy then officially set off toward the Star Shield Shelter.

...

Only ten minutes into the journey, a chilling sound reached their ears—a beastly roar, yet far more spine-tingling than any ordinary animal’s cry.

“Could it be... the growls of zombies?” Lin Xinghai guessed.

The growls grew louder and closer, merging into a continuous chorus. If they were indeed zombies, their numbers surely exceeded a hundred.

As the sounds approached, a volley of machine-gun fire erupted, lasting about half a minute. When the firing ceased, the growls vanished as well.

“Is it over?” someone whispered.

“Yeah, it’s over,” Roger nodded, a strange smile curling his lips. “White pigs, it’s time for your first lesson.”

“What first lesson?” Many sensed trouble at Roger’s unsettling smile.

Roger gave no reply. The troop carrier pressed on and soon reached the site of the skirmish.

Before anyone could get a clear look outside, the vehicle stopped, and the rear door opened.

Not only theirs but the following troop carriers did the same.

One by one, shelter members were ushered out.

“Next, I’m going to take you over there. Each of you must touch one of those zombies—that’s the first lesson,” Roger said, pointing to a nearby pile of corpses.

Zombies and humans looked strikingly similar, save for pale skin and unusually long teeth and nails.

When the group looked in the direction Roger indicated and saw the blood-soaked bodies, many vomited on the spot.

Especially the women, who retched violently, then staggered back, their faces ashen, unwilling even to glance again in that direction.

“Everyone line up and touch the zombies. Otherwise—well! You can stay here and keep these corpses company!” Roger’s voice rang out again, chilling many to the bone.

Lin Xinghai’s expression darkened, but he understood the harsh reality: the humans were at the mercy of fate, like fish on a chopping block.

So he obediently lined up and followed the group to the nearest corpse.

This body was relatively intact, with a small hole in its forehead—likely a bullet wound straight through the brain.

What puzzled him, however, was the wound on the back of the zombie’s head.

Looking around, he noticed that all the zombies nearby bore similar wounds on the back of their heads.

“Finishing blow? But why a cut on the back of the head?”

Driven by curiosity and the need to complete the “first lesson,” Lin Xinghai reached out to touch the wound.

“Ding! Blood energy detected. Absorb?”