Chapter 25: Waiting

The two of them made their way north—the military camp lay to the south of the city, and going any further in that direction would take them onto the fields the farmers once tilled. That area was usually deserted, and now it was even more dangerous. Thus, Liu Chang chose to move toward the city center, which was comparatively safer. They had only taken a few steps when the little girl sensed something unusual.

“I sense two creatures with a danger rating of around 0.8, moving this way.”

“0.8?” At her words, Liu Chang pulled her down into a crouch, hiding them deep within the thick grass. “Are we really this lucky?”

Clutching his scalpel tightly, Liu Chang peered through the blades of grass at the outside world.

“Is it straight ahead?” he asked carefully, pointing directly in front of himself with the scalpel.

“Yes, right there—they’re moving slowly toward us.”

“Alright,” Liu Chang nodded, holding his breath. He knew that for sensitive animals, even the faintest sound of breathing could give away their position. For a hunter, stealth was always the first lesson.

Time passed rhythmically; Liu Chang counted his heartbeats to calm his nerves before the hunt. Just as he reached a hundred, he saw a rustle in the grass ahead. Two creatures emerged.

“Damn!” When the two came into view, Liu Chang muttered under his breath and stood up from the grass. “Xiao Jing, no need to hide—it’s just two people.”

“Oh.” The girl stood up as well. “Are they two girls?”

“Yes.” Liu Chang glanced at the pair, who looked to be about seventeen or eighteen. His voice had startled them, but since they could only see within three meters or so, they didn’t spot him.

“Who’s there?” Unable to see, the girls called out, fear in their voices, casting their eyes around anxiously.

“We’re just passing by, nothing to worry about,” Liu Chang called back from beyond the mist.

“Let’s go.” With that, he patted the girl’s head, ignored any response from the others, and led her away to continue their hunt.

But the hunt did not go smoothly. Three more hours passed, and they had found nothing. During those hours, they encountered humans seventeen times, detected fifteen creatures with a danger rating above five, and narrowly avoided three migrating swarms of insects, but never came across the prey they sought.

“It’s already past noon, and still nothing,” Liu Chang sighed, sitting on a step beside the overgrown greenery of the roadside, backing against a plant that had grown to nearly three meters high. He took a brief rest.

“Tired?” he asked, ruffling the girl’s hair.

“A little, but I can manage.” She nodded, the scar on her face drawing an arc in the air. “We’ve been running for so long. Are you hungry?”

“Ha, don’t call me uncle—I’m not that old, just a recent graduate,” Liu Chang laughed. “I don’t look that old, so a girl your age can call me ‘big brother.’ As for whether I’m hungry, let me tell you—I’m starving!”

“Really? Luckily, I saved a bit of food.” With that, she pulled half a biscuit from her pocket. “I didn’t finish it earlier. You’ll need your strength for fighting beasts, so you should eat it.”

Liu Chang couldn’t help but laugh again at the sight of that little biscuit. “You really managed to save half? Don’t tell me you were full—I don’t believe you’re not hungry. You eat it.”

The girl hesitated, her face showing a hint of grievance, but her hand stubbornly held out the biscuit.

“Oh, fine. Since you insist, I’ll eat it.” Seeing her expression, Liu Chang laughed a third time, took the biscuit, and placed it in his mouth.

The distinctive hardness of the compressed biscuit and the flavor of scallion oil spread through his mouth.

“Damn, this tastes great. When you’re hungry, anything is delicious. Thank you!” After eating and taking a sip of water, Liu Chang stood up again. “Let’s go. I ate your biscuit, so tonight I’ll get you a big piece of meat in return!”

“Okay.” The girl nodded vigorously, a smile lighting her face.

They set off again.

That afternoon, perhaps thanks to the biscuit, their luck suddenly turned. After only about ten minutes and letting a group of humans pass, they found what they were looking for—a stray dog.

It was a large dog, alone. Though its body had undergone some slight mutation due to the red mist, it wasn’t particularly strong. The little girl estimated its danger level at 1.5—meaning its physical capabilities were only a bit above that of an adult man. Still, its canine instincts made it far tougher to deal with than most people.

So, as soon as Liu Chang spotted it, he crouched low, not daring to utter a sound—he knew how keen a dog’s hearing could be. In the grass, he pressed his palm down, signaling the girl to stay back, then held his breath and crept closer, using the undergrowth for cover.

Yet, despite all his caution, the sole of his shoe pressed on a root, making the faintest of creaks.

The dog was instantly alerted. Its acute hearing pinpointed Liu Chang’s location. Blood-red eyes locked onto him, now less than three meters away.

A low, guttural growl rumbled from its throat as it bared its teeth, folding its face into a snarl.

But Liu Chang was no longer the same man he had been at the dawn of the apocalypse. As one of the rare human mutants, while his physical abilities hadn’t soared, he was no longer someone a mere dog could intimidate.

Clutching the scalpel, he stood his ground, facing off with the animal. He didn’t want to attack first. He knew that, given the difference in posture between man and beast, launching an attack would require crouching, bending, rushing, slashing—a whole sequence of movements. Bending down would throw off his balance, and if he missed the first strike, he’d have trouble following up.

Better, then, to wait for the dog’s move. Pouncing was an instinctive act for mammals; their predatory nature drove them to go for the neck, to suffocate their prey. Or perhaps it wasn’t a conscious choice—it was simply what they were wired to do.

Liu Chang trusted in animal instinct.

So he waited.