Woooo~

The scorching sun hung high in the sky, and waves of heat burned down. The concrete platform at Akesai Station had cracked into a web-like pattern, with dry camelthorn and grass in the crevices all reduced to lifeless shades of brown. The iron station sign hanging above wailed and creaked in the wind.

The length of the United Convoy stretched from Akesai Station all the way several kilometers outside the city. Under the blazing sun, human figures shimmered in the heat.

To the east lay a boundless no-man’s-land, where the wind howled and the horizon shimmered with rippling heatwaves.

The entire world seemed to be painted in a single dull yellow hue. At first, the convoy members basked in the sunlight with a thrill of escaping the darkness, but soon enough, only scorching heat and parching dryness remained.

Men and women had all switched to lighter clothes, sweating profusely as they maintained their survival vehicles.

All except for one team — the Queen Mo.

Out in an open space near the platform, Monica’s subordinates had set up a sunshade canopy. Monica reclined leisurely on a lounge chair, dressed in hot shorts and a cropped top, sunglasses perched on her face. Next to her, a mini fridge chilled beverages, and a lackey stood by fanning her with a portable air cooler. The dangers of the wasteland seemed completely unrelated to her, like she was just on a vacation.

Her commanding beauty and outrageously sensual figure didn’t just make her own men’s noses bleed — even male members from other busy convoys on the platform couldn’t help but steal a glance in her direction. Somehow, the air in Akesai seemed a few degrees hotter.

Monica ignored the gazes around her. She looked like she was napping, but her eyes were actually fixed on Lin Xian, who was seriously modifying train cars and operating drones down the track.

“Mechanical powers, huh... that seems... a little too far from how I’ve always understood superpowers,” she muttered to herself.

At Akesai Station, the Infinite had already detached from Longshan-1 and was now being reassembled on the auxiliary tracks.

Lin Xian was busy modifying the Weilong-class carriage with his drones, while Li Yi and Xiao Yuan led over a hundred people helping him nonstop.

Even though she was heavily pregnant, Li Yi’s face was full of hope and longing for survival and a new dawn. Ever since that night in Yijin City, Lin Xian’s invitation had kept her up all night. Both she and Liang Lei were tough-minded people who had always played the role of rescuers during this escape journey. But now, by joining the Infinite, she finally felt like she had found a reliable place she could count on. She was immensely grateful. If she weren’t pregnant, she’d be jumping up and down carrying armored steel plates, helping out with her powers.

“Sis-in-law, take a break! Leave this to us!”

Several burly men wearing engineering exosuits were hauling all kinds of armored plates and materials crafted by Lin Xian. Seeing Li Yi still bustling around, they couldn’t help but speak up.

“Yeah, it’s super hot out here, and the wind’s blowing strong too.”

“This is no time for resting,” Li Yi said loudly, carrying a heavy toolbox as she followed them. “We’re heading into the no-man’s-land tomorrow. Captain Lin said we need to prep as much as we can. No such thing as overprepared.”

“Sis Li Yi.” Xiao Yuan ran over to her. “Come help us sort supplies inside the train. We need to clear a lot of space.”

“Oh, sure.” Hearing it was Lin Xian’s arrangement, Li Yi quickly nodded. She didn’t realize Lin Xian had actually asked Xiao Yuan to fetch her. He had originally assigned Li Yi to handle internal affairs. Seeing her still doing heavy work while pregnant, he figured it was better to pull her inside to help there.

On Akesai’s auxiliary track, a heavy armored train over 800 meters long was already lined up. From the outside, it was obvious that it was a combo of two differently styled armored trains, but the overall presence was still overwhelmingly powerful.

Inside, the space was being cleaned and arranged per Lin Xian’s layout. Outside, people were welding on defensive armor and automated gates between carriages. Although Lin Xian couldn’t finish all the external armor at once, at the very least, he needed to fully seal the entire train first.

At the rear engine, Shu Qin was controlling several PX05 maintenance robots to dismantle the Weilong-class main engine console. She was also building a small transition car to connect the Whale-03E Heavy Gas Turbine Locomotive. It might sound risky to piece together something like that, but for Shu Qin, it wasn’t — her work was based entirely on the complete blueprints of the Weilong-class, applying precision industrial manufacturing. The forged components were even better than new — the only manual part was the welding.

While thinking, several hovering PX05 robots were performing standardized procedures under the guidance of Shu Qin’s Mechanical Heart. The eyes of those drones had become Tian Cheng’s eyes.

Even now, Shu Qin hadn’t fully adjusted. After all, she only gained this power right before unlocking remote control. Suddenly having all these viewpoints flooding her brain gave her motion sickness: vertigo, spinning vision, nausea. She had to shift into a mechanical mindset just to slightly adapt to the all-angle perspectives.

She had spent her whole life using just two eyes to perceive the world. Now she suddenly had a dozen — it gave her a massive headache. And this was just a few drones. She thought of her plan to produce thousands of Lei Sun 2000 attack drones in the future. If that ever happened, how would she control them all?

Shu Qin had already considered the answer: using AI.

But the more she thought about it, the more it felt wrong. Letting the AI control the drones in battle — what did that have to do with her?

Wouldn’t she just become some kind of drone-producing “mother ship”?

That thought made Tian Cheng frown slightly with her eyes closed. Yeah... that did sound like a problem.

How was a human brain supposed to manage thousands of independently acting units at once?

Back when she was fighting Old Scorpion, she could only fully control them for one unified assault. Other than that, she had to rely on handing off the targeting to the drones’ autopilot modules.

…!

Meanwhile, KIKI, Chen Sixuan, and Fire Bro were leading the Infinite’s team, along with Luo Yang, Liang Lei, and others, racing across the land. The roaring of the convoy shook the sand and dry grass along their path.

Vroom~

The engine noise gradually dropped as wind and sand raged around them. KIKI tracked the coordinates of Old Scorpion’s alliance signal package and quickly locked onto the most overlapped zone. Using triangulation, she located the site called Lookout Valley. However, when they were still a few dozen kilometers away, Chen Sixuan suggested stopping the convoy and having KIKI, Fire Bro, and her go scout ahead.

The three of them had high mobility and could better handle any unexpected situations.

Among them, only Chen Sixuan wore full-cover power armor. Fire Bro wore Lone Wolf power armor with a dust mask, while KIKI sported a simple outfit of shorts and a leather jacket, using her telekinesis shield to block out the wind and sand.

“That spot’s about twenty-seven or twenty-eight kilometers away. It’s well hidden.”

“These sand bandits keep their hideouts far apart, usually in no-man’s-land. Besides zombies and weirdos, no regular refugee has the heart or strength to go hunting for them.”

Chen Sixuan spoke cautiously. This was her first time leading a mission without Lin Xian — and it was an aggressive strike on a bandit base, no less. Even though she seemed calm, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill deep down.

She didn’t know how to describe the sensation, but Chen Sixuan was definitely starting to enjoy this—heightened senses, overwhelming power, and the thrill of eliminating enemies from a thousand meters away.

It was a far cry from the old Chen Sixuan who wouldn’t even dare throw a piece of chalk in class.

“Let’s go check it out quickly. If we miss any signal relays during the two-hour sandstorm, we’ll end up empty-handed,” KIKI said, using her telekinesis to lift the three of them toward the target.

While flying, Chen Sixuan said in a serious tone, “This location is deep in the no-man’s-land, far from roads and cities. Even if it’s not the Sand Scorpions’ main base, it’s definitely a place where they hide or trade something. Otherwise, their signal wouldn’t pop up here so frequently.”

Fire Bro crossed his arms, clearly unhappy about being carried despite being able to fly himself. “Did you two forget that I can fly now?”

“Shut up. Just follow along,” KIKI snapped.

Chen Sixuan glanced at Fire Bro and whispered, “Your flight is too fast. With all the fire and smoke, it’s too easy to expose us. We’re here to scout, so keep a low profile for now.”

Hearing that, Lu Xingchen felt it made sense. He swallowed his retort, coughed twice, and focused on watching the distant surroundings.

Soon, the three of them flew close to the ground toward the target. When they reached the edge of a sandy ridge, Chen Sixuan suddenly said to KIKI,

“Stop!”

KIKI immediately set them down. Chen Sixuan crouched and raised her sniper rifle, aiming ahead.

Through the digital scope, a large wasteland stronghold came into view. It looked like it used to be an abandoned Federation signal station, nestled at the base of a wind-eroded rock mountain. The area was quite large. The entire compound was made of rusted oil tankers, junked car husks, and welded steel plates. Twisted steel towers stood at the corners, topped with old spotlights and heavy machine guns. There were even flamethrowers and defensive electric nets — the security level was clearly high.

Besides the old observation building, the compound had over a dozen tin huts, and parked inside were forty to fifty heavily modified doomsday vehicles, all covered in spiked metal and creepy graffiti, looking fiercely intimidating. The signal station’s old satellite dishes had been repurposed as sunshades, now rigged with all kinds of radar and early warning systems.

Chen Sixuan gently adjusted the scope for a closer look. Inside the stronghold, she could see about a dozen figures moving around. Some were smoking on the watchtowers, while others under the canopies appeared to be playing cards. Toward the back, she spotted a small bunker with a heavy blast door. Painted on it was the Sand Scorpions' emblem. Judging by its design, it was either the residence of their leader or elites, or a storage area for supplies and ammunition.

“We found the right place. This is definitely the Sand Scorpions’ base.”

Chen Sixuan gestured for the other two to stay low and continued, “Wait a sec…”

She kept adjusting the scope and suddenly spotted several large cages welded from iron frames under some inner canopies. There were still people locked up inside.

Those people were in tattered clothes, barely clinging to life. Even from several kilometers away, Chen Sixuan could feel their aura of despair.

“There are dozens of captives in there!”

“That many?” KIKI frowned. “They must’ve been captured recently — no time to trade them yet.”

Chen Sixuan nodded. “Not many bandits outside of those, but the heavy weapons on the watchtowers and the interior defenses are no joke. And who knows what’s behind that blast door.”

She watched carefully as the bandits on the towers turned flamethrowers on the zombies gathered at the gates, burning them all down. Then, the spiked metal gates slowly creaked open, and two rage-fueled war vehicles rumbled out — heading directly their way.

“Someone’s coming out. They're heading in our direction — probably checking on Akesai.”

Lu Xingchen cracked his knuckles and said lightly, “Then why don’t we strike with thunder and give them no time to react?”

“You’re exactly right,” Chen Sixuan said coldly. “Fire Bro, head back and bring the main force. KIKI and I will take care of these scouts here. Then we’ll go straight in and crush that base.”

“Got it!”

Lu Xingchen grinned and immediately shot off in flames, soaring like a meteor.

Back at the Sand Scorpions’ watchtower, a bandit with a gun smoked lazily. A busted music player blared vulgar heavy metal. His buddy played a zombie headshot game with a sniper rifle.

~

A male zombie’s head exploded.

“Oh, juicy~”

Bang.

A female zombie’s chest burst open.

“That one’s got quite the bounce!”

The sniper grinned with yellow teeth and scanned the exit road with his scope. The two vehicles that had gone out toward Akesai had now stopped.

Seeing this, he quickly zoomed in. The windshields were completely shattered, blood splattered all over the outside. The cars were just sitting there, stiff and lifeless.

The sniper’s face went pale as he shouted,

“Something’s wro—”

!

Before he could finish, a powerful bullet blasted through him and his smoking teammate, turning their heads into clouds of red mist!

The sudden blast instantly alarmed others in the base. Sirens wailed.

“Enemy attack!!!”

“Grab your gear!”

“Who the f*** dares attack the Sand Scorpions?!”

But before these bandits could fully react, just as they grabbed their weapons and rushed out—

A second sun appeared in the sky!

“Flame Emperor!”

With an overly dramatic roar, the entire stronghold was swallowed in fire!

Several watchtowers and their gunners were sniped down by long-range shots.

Boom!

Daluo, Liang Lei, and others drove straight through hordes of zombies, crushing them underfoot. Meanwhile, Shu Qin, Luo Yang, and the rest had already air-dropped into the base with KIKI’s help, opened the gates from inside, and began clearing out the bandits.

The strike team hit like thunder. The Sand Scorpions didn’t even get a chance to resist before they were annihilated.

The captives in the cages were terrified. Watching the fire raging outside, they started screaming in fear.

Luo Yang and Shu Qin rushed to the bunker. When they saw the blast door, both were surprised — it was even thicker and sturdier than it looked from afar, tougher than a bank vault.

“There’s someone in here!”

Luo Yang used a drone to scan the interior. The bunker turned out to be an old nuclear shelter with a surprisingly large space — enough for hundreds of people.

Beep!

Just as Chen Sixuan and the team cleared the outside of the stronghold, a sharp screech burst from a loudspeaker above the bunker. Then, a man’s furious voice came from within.

“Who the h*** are you?! Attacking the Sand Scorpions?! Are you tired of living?!”

The man must’ve been watching through some surveillance feed and realized the base had fallen. His tone cracked with panic and rage: “You won’t get away! When our boss gets back, you’re all dead!”

“Who the f*** is yelling so loud?”

KIKI floated in the air, arms crossed. Hearing the threat, she casually clenched her fist midair. The massive blast door instantly crumpled and warped under her telekinesis. The sound of metal groaning filled the air, chunks of rock from the mountain rumbling and collapsing around it.

Boom!

Smoke and dust filled the scene. When it cleared, a sleazy-looking man stood frozen, wearing only triangle briefs and a spiked collar. He was still clutching a megaphone.

He hadn’t expected that several-ton blast door to just... disappear.

His face shifted instantly from arrogance to ghostly pale.

“Who the f*** are y—”

Bang.

Before he could finish, Shu Qin blasted him away with a single shot. The team moved in — and were stunned by what they saw inside.

It was shockingly luxurious. The corridor alone was packed with all kinds of food and supplies. Deeper in, they found a separate armory and a huge storage room.

The largest chamber was downright extravagant. Persian carpets embroidered with tangled scorpion and nude woman designs covered the floor. Walking barefoot on them felt like stepping into soft, fleshy warmth. Dozens of copper pipes hung from the ceiling, connected to a custom condenser that converted hot air into distilled water. Combined with pipes linked to an underground water tank, it all flowed into a central agate-lined swimming pool.

By the poolside, more than a dozen beautiful women — some naked, some in sheer bikinis — cowered in a corner, trembling. Each had an iron chain around her neck. These were Old Scorpion’s private harem, kept to serve him.

As for the guy who was yelling at the door earlier — he was the Sand Scorpions’ second-in-command, sneaking around while Old Scorpion was away to indulge himself.

“Holy s***, they even have a pool,” Shasha said in shock as she walked in with the cleanup team. She was immediately covered by KIKI’s hands over her eyes. “Let’s go, nothing good for you to see.”

“Li Yi, KIKI.”

Just then, the comms lit up with the sound of a Sand Scorpion voice. The two of them rushed outside, only to see Tian Chenghua standing near the cages of imprisoned survivors.

In the far corner, an old face leaned against the bars — unmoving, skin sunburned and peeling. He scanned the group with confused eyes.

Li Yi’s face changed the moment she saw him.

“Old Mo!”

It was none other than Mo Chengzhi — Old Mo — who had entered the low-altitude corridor with the Infinite convoy.

......

16:50

Akesai Station. All 27 cars of the Infinite were now connected. Armor plating over the carriage joints was also complete. The original Sun Train carriages had thick, custom armor — decent enough for defense. Lin Xian prioritized sealing the internal gates and ensuring airtight protection.

Meanwhile, he led a team to finish modifying the circuitry, onboard water purifiers, plumbing, and air circulation systems, allowing all six power cars of the Infinite to be centrally managed.

After that, Lin Xian focused on interior layout: living quarters, storage racks in the supply cars, refrigeration units, weapon racks and shielding in the armory cars. He disliked messy interiors, so he used his manufacturing ability to arrange everything meticulously — making each car both livable and highly efficient for mobilization.

Many of the designs were modeled after the layout of the Queen Mo, which saved Lin Xian a great deal of effort. Once KIKI and the others returned, Lin Xian planned to delegate the deployment of the radar and sentry systems, as well as the installation of the arc pulse string resonators, to KIKI and Luo Yang’s team. The remaining tasks would have to wait until he got some rest, then continue manufacturing the external armor and large-scale weapon systems as they moved.

Inside Akesai City, several convoys preparing to follow the United Convoy into the no-man’s-land were also bustling with preparations. At that moment, a lookout’s voice came through the comms.

“Captain Lin, they’re back.”

Many people climbed to higher ground to get a look. Across the vast Gobi, multiple groups were kicking up dust in the distance. Chen Sixuan’s team was the last to appear on the horizon. As the convoy neared Akesai, Lin Xian finally heard Chen Sixuan’s voice.

“Lin Xian, the operation went smoothly. We found two Sand Scorpions’ outposts, plenty of useful supplies — we brought everything back.”

“Any casualties?”

“None.”

“Good.” Lin Xian let out a sigh of relief.

“But we also brought back a group of survivors who were prisoners of the Sand Scorpions — and Old Mo’s family was among them.”

“Old Mo?” Lin Xian frowned, recalling that luxurious all-terrain armored RV and the cool, cowboy-like old man. He hadn’t heard from them since the low-altitude corridor incident — and now, to run into them here…

Outside the Akesai platform, crowds gathered joyously around the returning convoys. Ning Jing and Chen Sixuan were urgently tallying the loot, while in the shaded area of the platform, Lin Xian and Shu Qin were checking on Old Mo and his group.

“Didn’t expect it to really be you guys!” Old Mo, looking weathered and worn, finally had some light return to his dry eyes when he saw the massive doomsday train. “Captain Lin, my god, we’re truly blessed — never thought we’d meet again.”

Lin Xian had someone bring food and water. Old Mo’s family of four — aside from a daughter-in-law, the others were all kids. The oldest was a ten-year-old grandson, Mo Xiaotian, and the youngest was a six-year-old girl named Xiao Le. They were all battered and bruised, clearly having endured a lot.

“Thank you, Captain Lin!” said Old Mo’s daughter-in-law, Sun Yuzhen. She gratefully took the water from Lin Xian and immediately opened it to give to the two kids beside her. Starving and parched, they couldn’t help but gulp it down in large mouthfuls.

“Old Mo, what happened to you guys? What about the rest of your convoy?” Lin Xian asked.

Old Mo guzzled down half a bottle of water before finally regaining some spirit. He spoke with a mix of anger and regret, “A few... a few days ago, we were taking a mountain route from Weihe to bypass Jinhai and head for Dawn City. But at night, we encountered some weird entities and had to flee northeast toward the edge of Zone 5 Xingyuan. We didn’t expect it to suddenly expand hundreds of kilometers overnight. We were stuck in darkness all day — that’s when we realized... we were inside the Polar Night zone.”

“Weihe?” Shu Qin frowned. “You were taking the eastern route — how did you end up in the western Gobi?”

“Yeah,” KIKI added, her eyes narrowing. “Even driving nonstop, it’d take at least three days to reach here. And that’s assuming daylight and clear roads.”

“We don’t know either…” Sun Yuzhen, in her thirties and now looking disheveled and exhausted, answered quickly. Her once short and tidy hair now resembled straw. “We were originally following the convoy from Silent City. But then we all got caught in a fog — terrifying things showed up inside. Most convoys got scattered. When we finally made it out of the mist, we were in the middle of a desert.”

“And then you ran into bandits?” Lin Xian said.

Hearing their story, Lin Xian was reminded of something Hu Lushou had mentioned — that his convoy had experienced something similar. This made Lin Xian deeply suspicious.

The distance from Longjiang to Akesai was farther than crossing the entire no-man’s-land. Even without considering the darkness, a convoy would need two to three days nonstop. Yet they had somehow crossed from the southern Polar Night zone of Zone 5 to the northern Gobi in such a short time?

Old Mo nodded with a sigh, visibly remorseful. “It’s all my fault — I shouldn’t have followed Silent City...” He glanced at Sun Yuzhen and the two children, then thought of their missing convoy friends. His tone was filled with regret.

Lin Xian’s gaze shifted to Sun Yuzhen. Her clothes were the most tattered — buttons popped off, pants shredded at the crotch, with no underwear beneath, and blood stains covered the inner thighs. It was obvious she’d been abused by the bandits. Yet she didn’t seem to care — her eyes sparkled with the joy of survival as she talked to Lin Xian and fed biscuits to her son and daughter.

“Thank you,” Sun Yuzhen said calmly, despite everyone’s gaze. “Honestly, it’s nothing. In this world, survival matters more than anything. Just... it’s not great for the kids to see it.”

The little girl was timid, nervously glancing at the onlookers, quickly chewing her biscuit. But the boy — her son — looked at everyone with fierce caution, clutching tightly to his mother’s tattered clothes, trying to shield her.

The other Infinite crew members looked at Sun Yuzhen with subtle respect, touched by her resilience.

In the apocalypse, women were often the most vulnerable. Unless you had skills or strength, you were at the bottom of the food chain. Not every woman could be like Monica — capable of controlling her fate both before and after the world ended.

Old Mo’s family had already endured much. His son had died before they reached Yubei City. The whole Iron Force convoy had relied on a few families supporting one another. From Old Mo’s self-blame, it was clear this once proud and dashing man now carried the weight of failure, aging a decade from grief.

Clearly, he blamed himself for not protecting his family. The former cowboy with sunglasses now looked frail and spiritless.

“It’s okay, Xiaotian. They’re good people. Captain Lin saved us. All the bandits are gone now,” said Sun Yuzhen.

Hearing that, Mo Xiaotian’s guarded expression turned to blazing resolve. He crawled in front of his mother, then suddenly dropped to his knees in front of Lin Xian.

“Please! Give me a gun! I can kill bandits — and zombies too!”

Everyone went silent, their faces somber.

Lin Xian immediately reached out to stop the boy from bowing. “You’ll get your chance. But kneeling isn’t what you need to do right now.”

Then he turned to Old Mo and said, “Old Mo, go rest on the train for now. We’ll talk more later.”

Old Mo let out a long sigh, looking at Lin Xian. “Sigh... I don’t even know how to thank you.”

But Sun Yuzhen’s eyes were bright with emotion. She quickly pulled her kids close and said to Lin Xian and the others, “Thank you, truly. We won’t be a burden. I’m a superpower user. Not very strong, but I can fly and handle a gun. Xiaotian and Lele are good helpers — they’ll do the dirtiest, hardest work without complaint.”

As she spoke, Xiaotian and Lele both nodded eagerly.

“You’re a flying superpower user?” Lin Xian was surprised.

Woosh.

Sun Yuzhen was clearly a straightforward woman. Without a word, she unfurled a pair of large white wings behind her — wide and beautiful, though badly injured, covered in deep cuts and bullet wounds.

“You’re that badly hurt? Miao Lu, take them for treatment.”

At that moment, a sense of unease crept into Lin Xian’s heart. Something about Old Mo’s and Hu Lushou’s stories didn’t feel like coincidence. There had to be some unknown danger in the no-man’s-land tied to Xingyuan!

But Lin Xian pushed that thought aside for now. There was no time to waste. He told Miao Lu to get them aboard the train for treatment. Later, he’d speak to Hu Lushou and discuss this strange situation with the other convoys.