Chapter 3

I forcibly suppressed the trembling in my heart, quickly forcing myself to calm down.

As long as there's demand, negotiation is possible.

In this wasteland, supplies are the highest-level hard currency.

I stepped back half a pace, right hand maintaining a gun-drawing position, left hand directly yanking open the lock of a nearby military storage box and kicking it over.

The rich aroma of high-purity canned meat and compressed rations instantly spread through the air.

"Stop." I stared at the beastmen closing in, speaking in a low voice. "Since you want supplies, we can make a trade. This food, antibiotics, even cold-weather gear—as long as you work for me, I can give you everything, even provide long-term open supply."

Trading supplies for my life, even recruiting them on the spot as my opening guards—this was the optimal solution I could think of right now.

But there was no response.

The beastman at the front stared at me intently, its throat emitting only beast-like snarls of guarding food.

My heart instantly sank, a desperate chill rushing to the back of my head.

Damn it. These weren't some organized, communicable beastman tribe at all, but a group of completely degenerated low-level wild beastmen!

Their brain regions had already degenerated; they had no intelligence for cross-species communication and couldn't understand human language.

In their cognition, I wasn't some supplier with enormous wealth, but just a piece of fresh, delicious, moving flesh exuding heat alongside lots of food!

Negotiation was meaningless!

Without any warning, three irrational low-level beastmen lunged at me frantically from the front.

I didn't hesitate for a moment, instantly drawing my gun and pulling the trigger.

The bullet precisely hit the eye socket of the beastman charging at the front.

But this didn't cause any fear; instead, the smell of blood drove the remaining dozens of low-level beastmen into frenzy.

Retreat, shoot, reload, swing knife.

A low-level beastman leapt from the right side. I kicked and shattered its kneecap, my left hand tactical knife viciously stabbing into its carotid artery.

Immediately after, the second and third were already upon me, sharp bone spurs slashing bloody marks on my arm.

Mindless monsters didn't care about casualties.

My stamina was being drained, and the handgun was nearly out of bullets.

The encirclement was compressed to the last three meters, already at the edge of exhaustion.

I couldn't hold out anymore—I had to leave here quickly.

I instinctively touched the brass key at my chest, then remembered that there were still over thirty gang members waiting to dismember me in my warehouse, and the key had entered its cooling period.

Damn it! I couldn't leave here at all!

My heart sank heavily.

A wolf-beastman nearly three meters tall leapt into the air, opening its massive jaws toward me!

I gritted my teeth, aiming the gun at its throat, pulling the trigger!

The gun was out of bullets!

And at this moment, the wolf-beastman's fangs were only half a meter from my neck!