Chapter 1222 A Chance to Turn the Tide in the Apocalypse
'Night market room allocation??'
This benefit has undoubtedly stimulated the vast majority of ordinary survivors!
Based on current development trends, the night market will absolutely be built like a central city in a war zone, receiving a massive influx of resources and military support!
To put it bluntly, this is just as valuable as 'housing allocation in the capital'!!
What's the most important thing in the apocalypse? It's fucking safety, of course!
And in the entire night market, in the entire Zhou state, is there any place safer than the central city of the Central Plains war zone?
Perhaps even Shenjing (Beijing) can't compare now!
Moreover, after being allocated a room at the night market, in addition to a safe living environment, you can also enjoy a variety of excellent resources!
Considering the news coming back from the Qinghe settlement, they're almost back to pre-apocalyptic life; they even have a small market town, while these local settlements are still in Makka Pakka, with rationing, martial law, and curfews...
Before the apocalypse, he was a miner. Although his salary was considerable, he would never have been able to afford a toilet in the capital even if he worked himself to death before the apocalypse. But now, the opportunity has presented itself!
As long as he is willing to work hard, he can acquire real estate, household registration, resources, and so on in a few months or even less than a year, which are things that people can only dream of in several lifetimes. In the future, his descendants will also be born into a position that others can never reach in their entire lives!
Let's take a gamble! We absolutely have to take a gamble!
At this moment, the carriage was crowded with more than forty young men who had been drawn from various gathering places and shared the same idea as him.
Most remained silent, their eyes filled with tension, trepidation, and a hint of the same kind of resolute determination he possessed.
Some people clutched their meager bags and tools tightly, their knuckles turning white from the effort; others gazed longingly out of the carriage, lost in thought, the air thick with excitement!
...
呲~~
Suddenly, with a short screech of brakes, the truck came to a screeching halt.
bang bang~
As the sound of the front passenger door opening and closing echoed, the militia leader leading the group came to the back of the vehicle and shouted to them:
"We've arrived at Sector D4! Everyone, get off the bus! Go into your assigned groups and follow your group leaders! Hurry up!"
Then, the rear panel of the carriage was slammed down with a 'bang'.
A blinding light and an indescribable stench of burnt, gunpowder, and rotten smell rushed in, making Wang Laowu feel nauseous.
"Damn it, who told you to take your gas masks off? You all want to die, don't you?!"
Seeing that Wang Laowu and the others weren't wearing gas masks because of breathing difficulties and the heat, the militia cadre, a man in his thirties with dark skin and a hideous scar on his cheek, glared with wide, fiery eyes, and burst into a tirade of curses:
"Didn't I emphasize before we entered the war zone that we must wear gas masks? You bunch of idiots! Don't you care about your lives?!"
The militia cadre "Thunder Tiger" roared like thunder, instantly drowning out the surrounding noise.
He grabbed the young man who had been pulled off the back of the carriage and slapped him hard across the left cheek with his large, fan-like hand, startling several people near the back of the carriage.
"Which crane operator was responsible for training you? Do you know how dangerous the battlefield is? How many infectious agents and mutant spores are in the air?"
His gaze swept across every face in the carriage like a knife, his voice distorted with extreme anger, and his spittle almost sprayed onto the face of the person closest to him:
"Didn't you watch the cautionary film? During the Battle of Zhanjiang, four or five thousand soldiers died from fungal infections alone because they didn't wear gas masks. Do you want to die too???"
At this point, still not satisfied, he suddenly grabbed the young man who had been slapped, lifted him off the ground, and roared:
"They didn't have the means back then, but now that they do, they still want to die?? Are they all just trying to scam compensation? You son of a bitch!"
Faced with Lei Laohu's furious and torrential rant, the atmosphere in the carriage instantly plummeted to freezing point.
Wang Laowu's scalp tingled from the shouting, and his heart pounded wildly, almost leaping out of his throat.
He instinctively shrank back, his face burning, overwhelmed by a mixture of shame, fear, and embarrassment.
He hurriedly and clumsily pulled up the gas mask hanging around his neck and put it on his head.
The others were in a similar state, each one looking like a startled quail, their faces pale, frantically putting on their masks. A rustling, slightly panicked sound filled the carriage.
Some people were so nervous that they couldn't get the mask clips on correctly even after several tries; others wore their masks crookedly, causing them to leak air and make a hissing sound...
Looking at this group of clumsy, panicked "greenhorns," Lei Laohu was so angry that the veins on his forehead throbbed, but he still suppressed his rage and roared in an even more irritable tone:
"Get the hell on them! Check the airtightness! Tighten the filter canisters! Anyone who messes up again, get the hell back to the settlement! Don't waste my time and the war zone's resources here!"
Under his angry glare and reprimands, the group finally managed to put on their gas masks properly.
The deadly smell, a mixture of putridity and gunpowder, was effectively blocked. Although breathing became heavy and difficult, a sense of security arose—accompanied by a deep fear of the reckless behavior just now.
After finally getting his protective gear in order, Wang Laowu jumped off the bus with the flow of people. The moment his feet touched the ground, the sticky, soft texture almost made him fall.
Looking down, I saw that the sole of my shoe was stuck in a dark red, muddy mixture, with bone fragments and unrecognizable tissue visible inside.
He looked up, and the sight before him through the lenses of his gas mask almost suffocated him instantly.
Is this... really the human world?
The charred ruins, the huge bomb craters, the mountains of wreckage... and the ubiquitous, broken, and rotting body parts.
They covered the earth, as if draping the city with a carpet woven from death.
"Ugh—" Someone nearby couldn't help but bend over and vomit.
Wang Laowu, suppressing the churning stomach acid and the metallic taste in his throat, looked beyond this bloody hell and saw a shocking scene further away:
The massive bulldozers, like primordial beasts, roared as they forcefully pushed aside mountains of corpses and seas of blood, carving out a "road"; heavy trucks, like steel dragons, advanced deeper along this bloody path; and on some of the cleared open spaces, some people wearing the same dark red protective suits as him, but clearly more skilled, were rapidly assembling some kind of enormous, mechanically beautiful equipment that he had never seen before...
"Don't stand there! Keep up!" militia cadre Lei Laohu roared again, but this time he was less angry. It was just an instinctive habit he had developed on the battlefield, which made him habitually shout.
"Your task is very simple: act like idiots, do whatever you're told, and don't use your brains!"
"Now everyone can only say two words: 'Yes' and 'Here'. When you are called, reply 'Here', and everyone else should answer 'Yes'!"
"If anyone lets me hear the third word, I'll stuff you and your words back into your mother's belly!"
"Did you hear everything clearly?"
"Yes!!"
Everyone present, including Wang Laowu, cowered and responded in unison.
"You! What's your name? Did you hear me?" Lei Laohu shouted at a survivor in the front row.
"My name is..."
"Fuck you!!" (Leo's flying kick!)
...
