Chapter Three

The convoy surged onto the cross-sea bridge.

"Boss... there's something ahead!" Viktor's trembling voice came through the walkie-talkie.

I squinted, looking towards the end of the bridge.

There were two monsters, each at least three meters tall. They had completely departed from human form; their muscles were a morbid purplish-red. Most terrifyingly, their chests, joints, and even the surface of their skulls were covered with thick, grayish-white bony armor.

[Type I Bone Armor Mutant].

In my previous life, monsters of this level only appeared in large numbers a week after the apocalypse. Unexpectedly, catalyzed by this bizarre blood spore rain, they had evolved ahead of schedule.

The two monsters let out inhuman roars, their powerful hind legs slamming into the lead truck.

"Don't slow down. Machine gunner, fire." I pressed the communication button, my voice completely flat.

The machine gunner in the roof turret gripped the trigger of the M134 rotary machine gun tightly.

"Whoosh—hiss!"

Dense armor-piercing incendiary rounds intertwined into a metallic red net, lashing mercilessly at the two bone-armored mutants. Against

such firepower, the mutants' defenses were a joke.

In less than ten seconds, the two monsters attempting to block the way were brutally torn into two pools of flesh, their mangled lower limbs lying limply on the road.

At dawn, we arrived at our destination.

This is the largest temperature-controlled storage center on the East Coast, storing enough top-tier supplies to feed 100,000 people for twenty years. However, it's clear that someone had their eye on this place before I did.

A corner of the thick barbed wire has already been breached.

Outside the cold storage facility, dozens of heavily tattooed drug dealers patrolled the area, rifles at the ready. In a nearby corner, cold chain warehouse employees were bound together like pigs, several thugs brutally assaulting several female employees, their laughter wild and lewd.

Only a few hours had passed since the collapse of order, and humanity's most primal and vile instincts had been unleashed.

As the roar of our convoy's engines drew closer, all the thugs instantly stopped, raising their guns and pointing them at us.

"Stop the engines! Get out of the vehicles!" The thug leader

, a burly man , jumped onto the roof of an abandoned bus , arrogantly unbuttoning his prison guard jacket to reveal an anti-tank rocket launcher slung over his shoulder, its dark muzzle aimed intently at me.

"Where did these nouveau riche come from? In this territory, I'm the law! Leave these bastards here, hand over the food and weapons, and maybe I'll have mercy and let you go over there as slaves. Count to three..." His

arrogant voice echoed through the loudspeaker across the open space.

Viktor nervously asked over the comms, "Boss, should we pretend to negotiate first, and I'll send a sniper to flank?"

"Negotiation? That's a stupid thing only politicians and weaklings do."

I sneered, slamming open the red safety shield on the weapon control panel and pressing the fire button without hesitation.

"Whoosh—Boom!"

The retractable missile launcher hidden at the rear of the vehicle instantly sprang up , and the anti-armor thermobaric missile roared out at incredible speed.

The thug leader didn't even have time to utter a "two" before his arrogance froze forever.

A violent explosion rocked the abandoned bus, turning the front half of the bus and the dozen or so thugs beside it into a cloud of black charcoal in half a second.

The remaining thugs were thrown to the ground by the aftershocks, all stunned by this utterly unreasonable, dimensional attack.

I kicked open the heavy armored vehicle door and pulled a high-explosive rifle from behind my back.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Without a single wasted word. I strode forward, the thugs' heads exploding like rotten watermelons.

Viktor behind me gritted his teeth, led his men, and charged into the battlefield with their guns raised.

In less than three minutes,

apart from the wailing cold storage workers, not a single armed thug remained standing in the entire factory area.

I stepped over a headless corpse and ordered Victor, "Tow all eight refrigerated trailers out of the backyard and attach them to the back of our trucks. Hurry up."

"Understood, boss!"

We violently broke open the huge cold storage warehouse door , and a blast of cold air rushed in .

Tons of food and medicine were laid out before me.

This was the foundation of my confidence in building a wasteland empire.

After assigning Viktor to move the supplies, I entered the central control room of the storage center, which housed the island's most powerful radio receiver tower.

I leisurely lit a cigar and then carefully tuned the radio to the "Lone Star" bunker's emergency distress band.

A piercing static crackled through the radio. A few seconds later, a desperate and panicked woman's cry echoed in the empty control room—

"Help...please...I'm Nicole! The mistress of Lone Star Bunker!"

"Damn it! Max, you idiot, drive faster! Our spare tires are all blown out! The zombies are catching up!"

"Where's the helicopter?! We have the highest-level Alpha Ring, why hasn't the rescue helicopter arrived yet?! Waaaaah...my face hurts so much, I'm dying, someone please save me!"

Listening to the wailing on the radio, I exhaled a smoke ring with satisfaction.

The contrast was simply exquisite.

“Keep running, run as fast as you can.” I chuckled silently into the microphone. “When you realize that after all that life-or-death struggle, all you’ve got is a piece of scrap metal, that expression will be something to look forward to.”

I stubbed out my cigar and turned to leave the control room.

By then, Viktor and his team had finished loading the temperature-controlled trailers, laden with thousands of tons of top-tier supplies. The massive convoy, like a steel dragon, was about to rampage through this shattered world .

“Boss, all loaded! The generator and fuel are all taken!” Viktor reported loudly, his face beaming with the rare elation of a survivor in the apocalypse.

However, my pupils contracted instantly. My former Navy SEAL’s combat instincts sent a chill down my spine.

“Everyone take cover!” I roared.

A sudden gust of wind whipped up overhead. But this was no ordinary weather phenomenon.

The deafening roar of the propellers instantly drowned out all the wind, rain, and engine noise. A powerful downdraft whipped up the water and blood on the ground, sending it flying everywhere, making it impossible for Viktor and his men to even open their eyes. They clung desperately to the tires.

I looked up.

A military Black Hawk helicopter hovered thirty meters above us.

Searchlights instantly blazed on , framing me and my convoy in a ghastly white beam.

At the helicopter's side doors, two fully armed special forces soldiers had already pushed their guns out of the hatches, their infrared lasers locked onto my forehead and my convoy.

"Listen up, you unidentified armed men below. This is the U.S. National Guard . You are now taking control of all supplies."

"Drop your weapons immediately, put your hands behind your heads, and kneel on the ground! You only have ten seconds! Countdown begins—ten! Nine!"

Viktor and his mafia henchmen were so terrified they could barely hold their guns.

Compared to these elite regular troops engaged in direct combat, the thugs from before seemed like children playing house.

But I didn't kneel, nor did I raise my hands.

"Ten seconds? How arrogant . " I walked towards the slightly ajar rear door of the carriage.

The real hunt was just beginning.

The countdown from the loudspeaker in