A genuine robbery

"Biao, this is the heartless traitor I told you about! You must help me deal with him!"

Liu Ru clung to Zhang Biao's arm, her gaze icy as she stared at Wang Gang.

After joining Zhang Biao's group, Liu Ru had sought his sympathy by claiming that her boyfriend had abandoned her when the zombie outbreak began.

To secure her place in the group, she had even offered herself to Zhang Biao, granting him a night of unrestrained pleasure.

"Oh! So it's him! Very well, I'll make sure to crush his balls for you."

Zhang Biao clenched his fists, his teeth grinding as he glared at Wang Gang.

The thought of Liu Ru, who had so eagerly catered to him the night before, having once done the same for Wang Gang only fueled his rage.

Hearing their words, Wang Gang chuckled.

He hadn't expected Zhang Biao to be so blind—not realizing that he, too, was a berserker warrior.

Nor had he imagined Liu Ru to be so shameless, not only framing him as a heartless traitor but also inciting Zhang Biao to attack him.

Yet in truth, Liu Ru was the one truly devoid of conscience.

To escape from the clutches of zombies, she had personally pushed her own boyfriend into their grasp.

Zhao Yong and the others, upon hearing Zhang Biao's threat, also laughed.

After all, Wang Gang was a Tier-2 warrior—killing Zhang Biao and his men would be effortless.

And yet, oblivious to this reality, Zhang Biao and his followers were recklessly bringing a knife to a gunfight, blindly courting death.

"Brother, this is the apocalypse—killing comes without consequence. If you value your life, I suggest you tuck your tail and run!"

Qi Hui smirked as he addressed Zhang Biao.

"Kid, those are my exact words to you! I advise—"

Before Zhang Biao could finish his sentence, Wang Gang struck.

He had no patience for drawn-out exchanges—there were tasks to complete, strength to hone, and allies like Zhao Yong and Zhang Jingjing to empower.

Zhang Biao barely registered a blur before Wang Gang was suddenly right before him—so close their faces nearly touched.

He could feel Wang Gang's breath brushing against his skin.

His heart quivered. A chilling realization struck him—he had gravely underestimated his opponent. Wang Gang was far too fast.

And a man possessing such speed could only be far beyond his league.

Just as Zhang Biao prepared to retreat and counterattack, a force like a sledgehammer slammed into his chest.

His body shot backward like a kite with its string cut, soaring through the air in a sharp arc spanning four or five meters before crashing to the ground with a deafening thud.

"Pfft! Pfft!"

Zhang Biao coughed up two mouthfuls of blood before his head slumped lifelessly to the side—dead.

His subordinates stood frozen in shock, some too bewildered to comprehend what had just transpired.

"A traitor who repays kindness with betrayal—your death alone can quell my fury."

Wang Gang dusted off his hands, his tone dripping with disdain.

Just moments ago, the Spirit Hawk had devoured the corpse bee, effectively saving Zhang Biao and his men.

Yet not only had Zhang Biao failed to show gratitude, he had attempted to seize the Spirit Hawk and even plotted to slaughter them all.

Such a man was beyond redemption.

"Wang Gang, I didn't know you were this powerful! You're so manly!"

Liu Ru clung to Wang Gang's arm, nuzzling against him coquettishly.

She sought to charm him, for in her eyes, no man could resist the allure of a woman.

As long as she could please him—make him tremble in pleasure—he would never kill her.

"You wretched woman—get lost!"

Wang Gang seized her by the hair and, with a swift motion, hurled her straight at an approaching zombie.

"Boom!"

Liu Ru crashed into the undead, sending both of them sprawling to the ground.

Before she could react, the zombie's arms locked around her neck.

With a sickening crunch, its teeth sank into her flesh.

Liu Ru let out a blood-curdling scream, her hands reaching out in desperation, pleading for help.

But no one came to her aid.

Within moments, she was no more.

As Wang Gang gazed upon her gruesome demise, he couldn't help but recall her boyfriend, Zhang Jiayu.

Only yesterday, he had met the same fate.

At the very least, justice had been served.

"Big Brother, please forgive us! We failed to recognize your strength. We beg for your mercy!"

Zheng Lun, vice president of the Taekwondo Club and Zhang Biao's trusted right hand, pleaded cautiously.

He had initially intended to rob Wang Gang and his companions, believing their bags to be filled with supplies.

But after witnessing Zhang Biao's instant death, all courage had drained from him.

At this point, mere survival was a blessing.

"You can leave—but everything on you stays."

Since Zheng Lun and his men had refrained from attacking him directly, Wang Gang saw no need to slaughter them.

But their gear—he would take that.

"Yes, yes! We'll leave it all!"

Zheng Lun hurriedly dropped his bat.

The others followed suit, discarding whatever weapons they had—be it fruit knives, wooden clubs, or even mop handles.

Wang Gang shook his head, then pointed at their protective gear.

As members of the Taekwondo Club, they had been wearing padded armor, which had kept them unscathed throughout the night.

Armor was invaluable—zombies could neither bite nor claw through it.

Although Wang Gang had no need for it, Zhao Yong and Zhang Jingjing did.

Zheng Lun's face went deathly pale.

Their survival had depended entirely on that armor—without it, they were as vulnerable as turtles without shells.

"Wang Gang, isn't this a bit much?"

Zhang Jingjing, ever kind-hearted, hesitated. Taking their weapons was one thing, but stripping them of their last defense seemed excessive.

"If we were weaker than them, your backpack would already be empty—and you, Jingjing, would already belong to them."

Wang Gang had seen the greedy glint in their eyes as they stared at their supplies.

"Exactly! The boss is right! In the apocalypse, kindness is a luxury no one can afford! Isn't that so?"

Qi Hui eagerly fawned over Wang Gang.

He had been eyeing Zheng Lun's armor—once he had it, he could finally cut loose against zombies without fear.

"Wang Gang, this is too much—"

One of the men, unwilling to part with his gear, stepped forward in protest.

Before he could finish his sentence, Wang Gang's palm struck his face.

The force snapped his head sideways.

A chilling crack rang out—his neck shattered on impact.

His body swayed for a brief moment before collapsing to the ground.

Witnessing another swift execution, Zheng Lun and his men, though reluctant, hastily stripped off their armor.

"Big Brother, may we leave now?"

Zheng Lun's voice trembled, his gaze toward Wang Gang a mixture of resentment and terror.