Chapter Eighteen: Storing Food (5/5)

"Cough, cough."

Yang Fan forced himself to endure the pain and stood up. Zhu Liang was in better shape; he hadn’t suffered any injuries, just some soreness.

When Zhu Liang saw the blood-stained patch on Yang Fan’s back, with shards of glass embedded deep in the flesh, he felt a chill run through him. Yang Fan took out a vial of potion and began to drink—it was a Level 2 potion.

“Consumed Level 2 Stamina Potion, Constitution increased by 9.”
“Consumed Level 2 Strength Potion, Strength increased by 13.”
“Consumed Level 2 Agility Potion, Agility increased by 11.”
“Consumed Level 2 Intelligence Potion, Intelligence increased by 8.”

In an instant, Yang Fan felt a warm current surge through his body. The potion, once swallowed, transformed into boiling medicinal energy. His body soon felt strange, and Zhu Liang, standing nearby, watched with his own eyes as the shards of glass dropped out of Yang Fan’s back, the wounds healing rapidly, until his skin was as pale and flawless as snow.

Yang Fan’s pallor faded, and he looked much better.

This was the benefit of the Apocalypse System. In the real world, removing the glass would be extremely difficult and require advanced medical equipment. Some shards might remain inside, and full recovery would take years. But now, in less than half a minute, Yang Fan was not only healed, but stronger than ever; his muscles had grown firmer.

“Once we’re done collecting food, if you’re willing to follow me, I’ll help you buy Level 1 potions,” Yang Fan said to Zhu Liang, whose face was full of envy.

“Don’t worry, I’ll definitely follow your lead,” Zhu Liang replied. He was a man who knew how to adapt, which was why he’d made it to the top position of Dean of Discipline. After Yang Fan took a breath, he asked, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Zhu Liang said, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“Good.” Yang Fan stood up and found the fire axe they’d dropped in the chaos. “Let’s go find food now. If we don’t hurry, someone else will get to it first.”

At first, humans were powerless against zombies, but there were always a few who rose up. Humanity wasn’t so weak. Now, twenty-four hours had passed. After this period, a mutation would occur, and some humans would become stronger.

So Yang Fan had to secure food before that happened.

With the boost from the Level 2 potions, Yang Fan’s abilities were nearly four times that of a normal person. A single punch could deliver at least three hundred pounds of force; his running speed, at full sprint, was nearly twenty meters per second. With proper training, Yang Fan could sweep every Olympic gold medal.

As they moved up through the first, second, and third floors, Yang Fan heard sounds coming from a classroom on the second floor—survivors, clearly. A quick glance revealed seven or eight ordinary zombies piled at the door. Yang Fan sensed the presence of another Apocalypse System inheritor, so he didn’t intervene.

Instead, he hurried to the food storage room, with Zhu Liang closely following behind—each step Yang Fan took, Zhu Liang mirrored. Each floor of the school was supposed to have a fire cabinet with an axe inside, but axes on the first three floors had already been taken, leaving them with just one weapon.

Naturally, Yang Fan gave the axe to Zhu Liang, since his strength was lacking and he needed a means of self-defense.

Once outside the teaching building, zombies were everywhere. Yang Fan carefully made his way to the rear exit. Zhu Liang had brought the back door key—so meticulous. Yang Fan realized that every successful person must have their own talents; Zhu Liang was now the perfect embodiment of this principle.

After unlocking the back door, they slipped through a narrow path, moving cautiously. Zombies had congregated outside; if they alerted even one, all would swarm after them. Even reincarnated, Yang Fan couldn’t take on hundreds of zombies. The Explosive Talisman was powerful, but it harmed the user too—it was a tool meant to trap others.

Near the food storage room, they encountered four zombies. Sensing Yang Fan and Zhu Liang, the creatures shambled toward them, jaws bloody—one missing an eye, another with a shattered jaw, but all still with sharp claws, breathing heavily as they advanced.

Yang Fan charged forward, his energy condensing into sharp points. Tai Chi was suited for group combat. He grabbed two zombie heads and smashed them together, channeling energy into their skulls and turning their brains to mush. For the other two, Yang Fan kicked one’s head clean off, then punched the last, crushing its skull.

Tai Chi had both hard and soft techniques; Yang Fan used the most forceful means to kill all four zombies, ending up covered in cold blood.

“Let’s go,” he shouted to Zhu Liang, then crouched low, dodging the zombies’ sight lines and reached the storage room. Zhu Liang didn’t have the key, but fortunately, the door was locked with a simple padlock, not an electronic system. Yang Fan smashed it open with the fire axe.

With a clang, the lock dropped. Yang Fan opened the door and called, “Guard the entrance. If anything happens, shout immediately.”

“Got it.” Zhu Liang was nervous but steadfast, crouching by the door, alert and vigilant.

With Zhu Liang ready, Yang Fan entered the food storage room—a warehouse. He immediately saw bags of flour. The Maiden Painting could hold limitless things, so Yang Fan confiscated everything; hundreds of bags of flour vanished into the painting in an instant.

Now Yang Fan understood the true benefit of the Maiden Painting: infinite space. With enough resources, he could build a powerful team.

Remember, in no more than ten days, the world would truly plunge into the apocalypse. A single loaf of bread could make someone grovel, begging.

Yang Fan could never forget how, back then, a few attractive classmates had begged those with strength, offering their virginity—being toyed with—all for a piece of bread that, once, they wouldn’t have glanced at.

In the apocalypse, food was paramount. Only about one-tenth of humans were system inheritors, and inheritors at first were just like ordinary people—not superhuman, only possessing great potential.

So food meant everything.

Staring at the abundance before him, Yang Fan swallowed hard. Hundreds of bags of flour, all sorts of vegetables—though unwashed, Yang Fan took them all, not caring in the slightest. He recognized familiar vegetables, like cabbage and greens, and plenty of potatoes.

There was also a heap of vegetables he knew by sight but not by name—enough to feed one person for decades, and this was only the first floor.

Five hundred square meters, shelves loaded with vegetables, flour, and rice.

Rice was most plentiful—about four to five tons, enough to feed the whole school for three or four days. Yang Fan spent over ten minutes loading everything into the Maiden Painting before moving to the second floor. A cold wave hit him—it was the refrigerated meat section.

Inside, he found another five hundred square meters, with pork, beef, and special meats, all processed and hanging neatly.

Roughly estimated, there were two or three tons of meat. Yang Fan claimed it all without hesitation, but the most important resource was not meat, but fresh water.

Water was crucial; in the apocalypse, thirst killed more people than hunger.

Yang Fan searched carefully, finding fewer than fifty cases of bottled water. It was a stroke of luck amid misfortune. After storing the water, Yang Fan tallied his supplies: in the Maiden Painting, enough for a hundred people to eat for half a year. The only shortage now was water.

Of course, he took pots, pans, and gas cylinders as well. Human civilization might collapse, but these items would still be useful.

He gathered gas pipes and other supplies, along with plenty of shelves. There wasn’t much use for them now, but perhaps someday. Yang Fan took everything he could, though the Maiden Painting seemed unable to hold it all.

...(Thanks to Homebound Traveler, thanks to classmates 8–11 for their recommendation votes, thanks to friends who commented, and to all readers who voted. Thanks again to everyone who logged in to read. Thanks for the sunflower seeds—and thanks to you all! We’ve reached third place in the category, all thanks to your support. I’ll update five chapters a day. Here’s a group chat: 301258159. Phone users can join and chat, as can friends from Qidian! Everyone is welcome to chat!)

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