Hidden Among the City

The streets.

An hour had passed since the deformed beasts were eliminated, yet the troops remained in place. After the battle, everyone needed time to recover, and a simple funeral had just been held.

Cremation.

This was the most common form of burial in wartime. Twenty-three people had lost their lives in the battle. Their bodies were stacked together, doused in gasoline. The moment Feng Zhiyong struck the match, flames consumed them.

Choked sobs echoed through the crowd. Among the twenty-three were friends, partners, squad leaders, and even brothers who had faced life and death together. Over the past seven days, they had witnessed scenes like this far too often, yet they still hadn't grown used to it. On the one hand, they grieved for the fallen; on the other, a creeping fear gnawed at them—no one knew if they would be the next to lie in the fire.

From soldiers to warriors.

They would need time to complete that transformation.

In the crowd, Chen Feng stood solemnly in a corner, his eyes reflecting a hint of loneliness as he watched the burning bodies.

In the apocalypse, human life is as fleeting as grass. It wasn't just these soldiers—no one knew when death would come for them.

Dimensional Invasions. As energy particles in the atmosphere increased, the barriers between dimensions grew weaker. Cracks could appear anywhere—in desolate wilderness, bustling markets, or even silent homes.

Skeletons, Zerg, and other unknown monsters would emerge from these cracks. One moment you might be enjoying a meal, and the next, a rift could open, and you'd be devoured alive by monsters.

This chaos would continue for about six months before it gradually subsided.

---

Searching.

Feng Zhiyong's current strength wasn't enough to secure control over the city. Moreover, with three professionals dead, his elite forces were nearly decimated.

J City was divided into three major districts: Qiaoxi, Qiaodong, and the Economic Development Zone beneath their feet.

Feng Zhiyong's base was in Qiaodong. His immediate task was to search for supplies and survivors, then, once his strength was fully restored, to reclaim control of the city.

A wise decision.

Feng Zhiyong was insightful and far-sighted. In the current environment, a conservative defense would restore human vitality more effectively than reckless fighting.

This was why Chen Feng was willing to work with him. Unlike some reckless and arrogant battle maniacs, Feng Zhiyong understood the art of compromise.

The journey went smoothly.

Although the area was infested with monsters, and countless people had fallen prey to them, there were still some lucky survivors. Over the next period, the team rescued more than five hundred people. These individuals had clung to life in the darkness for seven days, and today, they were finally saved by the troops. They embraced their relatives and friends, and even the strongest men couldn't hold back tears of joy.

Yet, amidst the crying, there was more sorrow and pain. The disaster had struck so suddenly that many had watched their loved ones slaughtered by monsters. The helplessness and despair they had felt was finally released today.

Surprisingly, among the survivors, they even found two more professionals.

An eight-year-old boy and an elderly man around seventy.

The boy's ability was gravity manipulation. He could create a gravitational field around him, causing anyone who stepped within range—human or monster—to feel an additional thirty pounds of weight pressing down on them.

A very practical ability.

However, due to his young age, the boy was kept under strict protection and did not see the front lines.

As for the old man, he was a kindly elder, his hair meticulously combed without a strand out of place, though the silver-white strands were clearly visible amidst the black. His slightly sunken eyes held a deep brown hue that spoke quietly of the passage of time.

But there was something unusual about him. He held a writing brush and stood among the crowd with an air of immortal grace, causing people to look at him more closely. Even Feng Zhiyong couldn't help but bow slightly, adopting a respectful posture.

A hermit in the court, a true recluse in the city.

In the peaceful era, Zhou Xian was a well-known figure in J City, an elder who could be considered a sage.

Zhou Xian.

The old man was a lover of literature, never marrying or having children. Ten years ago, he was already the president of the J City Calligraphy Association. Although he had tried to step down several times, his transcendent reputation made it impossible for anyone else to fill his position. Thus, even in his seventies, he remained in high office.

Who would have thought that when the apocalypse came, this great scholar would awaken as a professional? What's more, his awakening had invigorated his spirit, even reducing the wrinkles around his eyes.

Chen Feng studied Zhou Xian for a moment, then muttered under his breath, "A scholar who kills with his brush."

In his previous life, Chen Feng had lived in J City for a long time. He knew its powerful figures well.

Zhou Xian.

This man used a brush as his weapon, channeling power into its tip. Each stroke carried intent—when he wrote the word "kill," a blade descended from the heavens; when he inscribed "seal," an invisible cage trapped his enemies. Whether it was the power of the written word or pure killing intent, it possessed a supernatural force that was both fearsome and unpredictable.

In this chaotic era, Zhou Xian used nothing but his brush to fend off countless monsters, earning a high reputation among the people.

J City's prosperity in the future was due in no small part to the efforts of this old man.

Professionals' abilities were strange and varied. Some, like Chen Feng, had powers that were bizarre and inexplicable, while others had abilities that could be traced back to their past lives.

For instance, Zhou Xian had devoted his life to calligraphy. His words had become part of his very being, and after awakening, he naturally gained powers related to his art.

Similarly, combat experts, sword masters, and boxing champions—people who had been accustomed to fighting—were more likely to awaken combat-related professions. Because of their solid foundations, they could adapt more quickly to their new powers and progress faster.

Chen Feng cast one more glance at Zhou Xian before looking away.

In his memory, none of the powerful were simple characters!

The only difference now was that in his previous life, these were people he needed to look up to. But now, they stood not far from him, with their positions equal at this time...