NOVEL SIMPLE CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 58: The Tide of Destruction
Lu Ming stood at the apex of the observation tower, his gaze unwavering as the zombie horde surged toward him like a living tide. The sheer magnitude of the undead was staggering, an endless sea of rotting flesh and grotesque limbs stretching beyond the horizon. Among them, the hulking silhouettes of giant zombies and hunters moved with grim purpose, their presence more sinister, more dangerous than the rest.
For most, this would have been a scene of despair, a nightmare made manifest. But for Lu Ming, it was merely an inconvenience—a troublesome, albeit familiar, obstacle in his path.
His eyes flickered toward his home in the distance. A brief pang of concern gripped his chest, and he muttered under his breath, "My poor house..."
The reinforced walls had withstood countless sieges, but this? The strength of the giant zombies was terrifying, their massive fists capable of smashing through even the sturdiest defenses. The hunters, with their unnatural speed and agility, would tear through anything that remained. And at the heart of the horde, the towering Tyrants—creatures whose very presence seemed to crush hope—bore down on them like harbingers of doom.
Ever since his first encounter with the evolved zombies, this fear had gnawed at him. The thought of his home, his sanctuary, being reduced to rubble, haunted his waking moments. Each wave of the undead felt more formidable, more relentless than the last.
"Attributes," he sighed, a quiet resignation lacing his tone. "It all comes down to attributes."
In this apocalyptic world, survival wasn’t just about skill; it was about strength—his strength, which depended entirely on Zhang Chengcheng's ability to elevate him. But with every power-up, the stakes only grew higher. The stronger he became, the more potent the zombies that Zhang Chengcheng inadvertently summoned. The vicious cycle threatened to consume everything he’d built.
Another weary sigh escaped him. He bent down, grabbing the largest ammunition bag by his side. His survival—and the survival of Good Hope Village—hinged on these preparations. Zhang Lixin had outdone himself, crafting a vast array of projectiles for Lu Ming’s arsenal. Every bolt, arrow, and pellet had been accounted for. But what stood out most were the iron discuses—formidable, lethal weapons.
He reached into the bag, hefting a discus that weighed as much as a barbell plate. It rested comfortably in his palm, its surface cold and unforgiving. A test swing later, he nodded, satisfied.
In the distance, his enhanced vision zeroed in on the leader of the horde—a Tyrant, its grotesque form commanding the sea of zombies like a twisted general. The strategy was clear: take out the Tyrant, and the horde would lose its vanguard. Chaos would follow.
With a fluid motion, Lu Ming twisted his waist, channeled his strength, and flung the discus into the air. It soared, a dark blur against the pale sky, before finding its mark. The Tyrant didn’t stand a chance.
—On the ground, Zhao Honglei stood beside Zhang Lixin, his face a mask of despair as he beheld the advancing horde. His eyes lingered on the Tyrant—a creature so terrifying that it reduced his earlier words of encouragement to hollow platitudes. The enormity of the threat was suffocating.
Then, the world shifted. The air trembled with the unmistakable force of a sonic boom.
Bai Tianyu, a figure of raw power and determination, had leaped from a nearby building, charging towards the frontlines of Good Hope Village. The concrete beneath his feet shattered with each step, a trail of dust swirling in his wake. His focus was absolute: the Tyrant. His every move spoke of lethal intent.
But instinct, honed by countless battles, made him halt. A prickling sensation crawled up his spine—a warning. From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a dark object tearing through the sky, aimed straight for the Tyrant’s chest.
A second sonic boom followed.
The Tyrant, sensing the approach of another Level 3 Awakened, had let out a guttural roar, its predatory gaze locking onto Bai Tianyu. There was a flicker of sadistic glee in its eyes. It welcomed the challenge, its hunger for flesh intensifying.
Yet even in its arrogance, the Tyrant recognized the threat posed by the incoming projectile. With a desperate reflex, it crossed its massive arms in front of its chest—a futile attempt at defense.
What happened next unfolded in heartbeats. The discus, launched with terrifying velocity, slammed into the Tyrant’s outstretched limbs. Its arms—thick as tree trunks—shattered under the impact, exploding into fragments of bone and flesh. The iron discus didn’t stop there; it drove deep into the Tyrant’s chest, its momentum unstoppable.
Time seemed to freeze as the grotesque creature’s torso disintegrated, a horrific explosion of viscera staining the battlefield. The Tyrant’s head, separated from its ruined body, soared into the air, a grotesque spectacle that left even the most battle-hardened warriors momentarily stunned.
Bai Tianyu stood motionless, watching the remnants of the Tyrant collapse. He could hardly comprehend the force behind the attack. Before he could react, another thunderous boom echoed from the opposite end of the village.
Zhao Honglei, equally stunned, stared at the aftermath. The seemingly invincible Tyrant had been obliterated in an instant. The battlefield, moments ago a symbol of impending doom, had descended into chaos as the leaderless horde faltered.
"Don’t just stand there!" Zhang Lixin’s voice broke through the haze, gripping Zhao’s arm. "The real battle’s just starting."
Zhao Honglei, still reeling, glanced around at his comrades. Their faces were set with grim determination, but it wasn’t until Wang Xiong spoke that realization fully dawned on him.
"It doesn’t matter how much the zombies evolve," Wang Xiong said, his voice calm yet filled with conviction. "No matter how strong they get, they’ll never be stronger than Brother Lu. One shot, one kill."
He paused, a shadow passing over his expression. "But numbers… numbers are a different beast altogether. Even Brother Lu has limits."
With a rallying cry, Wang Xiong’s voice rang out, cutting through the chaos. "Everyone, hold your positions! Brother Lu will handle the rest!"
The Awakened, emboldened by his words, steeled themselves for the battle ahead, their resolve unshaken.
Yet Zhao Honglei remained, his gaze drifting back to the tower where Lu Ming stood, feeling as though he were witnessing something far beyond his comprehension—a power that defied belief.
End of Chapter 58