Han Yanyan found it quite strange actually. In the previous world, before meeting Zheng Yao, she could predict almost everyone's behavior with ease, as if she had a heavenly eye. As long as she didn't meddle recklessly, things would proceed smoothly. But now, the information in her mind couldn't help her foresee what was about to happen. Was there a bug in the electronic voice?
Anxiety crept into Han Yanyan's heart. She silently gathered her strength, keeping a watchful eye on the men closing in on her, ready to use her ice elemental power against whoever attacked first. As for how strong this power was and whether it could stop them, she had no clear idea.
Suddenly, a fireball the size of a tennis ball shot towards her, setting the hem of her white dress on fire. Han Yanyan reacted swiftly, using her not-so-mastered water element to extinguish the flame. But before she could breathe a sigh of relief, a second fireball was already headed her way. Her pupils shrank as she twisted her slender waist to narrowly avoid it.
She glanced over; the man she had kicked earlier was back on his feet, one hand covering his groin. With a wave of his other hand, another fireball flew at Han Yanyan.
His eyes were fierce, and he cursed, "You shameless witch! Think you can get away with it? Let's see if I don't kill you!"
In comparison to Han Yanyan's novice handling of her powers, this man was clearly much more proficient with his fire abilities, hurling fireballs with ease.
This time, Han Yanyan couldn't dodge. Her dress caught fire again, and although she quickly extinguished it with water, it left a hole that revealed her slender, toned leg.
The other men stopped closing in and instead stepped back, enjoying this cat-and-mouse game as they laughed.
Han Yanyan evaded several fireballs, but inevitably, her dress became tattered, unable to hide her graceful legs. The men jeered and whistled, cautioning, "Watch out, don't really burn her!" Her fair, delicate skin was too precious to burn.
With a desperate lunge, Han Yanyan rolled to avoid another fireball, ending up at a stall selling knives. As she struggled to her feet, the middle-aged vendor's face briefly changed. Han Yanyan glanced at him, her dark eyes like two pools of water. He opened his mouth slightly but said nothing.
The man with the fire ability was precise, singeing the fabric at Han Yanyan's shoulder. She stood up, covering her chest with both arms to prevent exposure. The knife vendor quickly gathered his goods in a cloth and disappeared.
The fire-using man taunted, playing with a fireball in his hand, "Aren't you tough? Why don't you run?"
Han Yanyan remained silent, standing up and charging towards a direction determinedly. A man in that direction spread his arms to block her way, jesting, "Oh, you're really going to run?"
Before he finished his sentence, a flash of light flickered before his eyes. His heart tightened, recoiling instinctively. Han Yanyan, who had been covering her chest, suddenly revealed a fruit knife, slashing upward from the man’s ribs to his chest. Blood droplets flew into the air as he cried out, stumbling back a few steps.
Han Yanyan seized the opportunity and broke through the encirclement.
Holding the knife, Han Yanyan ran straight for the street's exit, causing onlookers to retreat. A companion of the fire-using man cursed, forming a white electric ball between his palms. With a shove, he sent it hurtling towards Han Yanyan.
The crowd gasped, their exclamations abruptly halted as if choked.
Hearing the cries, Han Yanyan sensed danger approaching from behind. She instinctively turned her head and froze in her tracks.
A net of purple lightning spread behind her, intercepting the incoming white electric ball only half an arm's length away. Crackling with intense pressure, it took Han Yanyan's breath away. She staggered back as the electric ball collided with the purple net, resulting in a deafening explosion. The crowd's earlier screams resumed.
Shielding her head and face with her arm, Han Yanyan waited for the shockwave to pass before lowering her arm to look. The white electric ball had vanished, leaving only the purple electric net, lingering for a few seconds more before dissipating.
Neither the fire user, his companions, nor the bystanders were looking at Han Yanyan now; all eyes were fixed in the same direction.
Following their gaze, Han Yanyan turned to look as well.
Across the road, a man stood under a streetlight with his hands in his pockets, watching calmly. Though the light obscured his face, his presence alone overshadowed everyone.
He was intimidating.
Surrounding him were several men, standing with the ease of stars circling the moon. Unlike the awestruck onlookers, these men appeared relaxed, as if they'd just watched an entertaining show.
Han Yanyan instantly understood why her prior information was so sparse and why these people were so unpredictable.
The moment she laid eyes on him, she knew who he was.
It turned out Ding Yao—the man she was meant to win over, the greatest variable in this world—had been here from the start!
Compared to the drawn-out and clichéd backstory of the previous world, this world wasted no time with introductions. As soon as she stepped out of the alley onto this street, the main act began!
Though she didn't know why the last world ended in failure and collapse, the shadow of it lingered in her heart. Now, facing the prime target only minutes into this world, Han Yanyan took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.
"Ding, Master Ding!" The fire-using man, covered in sweat, ran awkwardly across the road, still sore from Han Yanyan's earlier kick. He dared not approach too closely, stopping several meters away to bow and scrape, "This woman took the money but wouldn't work. We were just teaching her a lesson..."
Click. The man lit a cigarette, ignoring him. In the weak light, Han Yanyan saw a face with deep-set features and rugged lines across the narrow street.
Despite the crowd and the earlier noise of the night market, as the man lit his cigarette, silence fell over the street.
The fire user sweated profusely.
There were over twenty lightning elemental mutants in Nanling City, and his companion was a decent one, whose electric ball barely showed a hint of pale blue. But purple lightning since the outbreak of the zombie virus—he had only ever seen it from one person: the leader of the Thunder Strike Squad, Ding Yao.
Initially, "squad" referred to groups of apocalypse survivors banding together for mutual support as humans began developing powers—weak at first, then gradually stronger. Many weaker ones were ruthlessly weeded out, becoming zombie victims. Over time, the strong gathered, forming formidable teams.
The term "squad" seemingly started as a jest, coined by some youth, gradually becoming commonplace. These groups named themselves, developing rankings of power. In Nanling City, there were hundreds of squads, for even three people could call themselves a squad. Yet among them all, Ding Yao's Thunder Strike Squad was unmatched.
Ding Yao, called "head" instead of "captain," led the strongest and largest group with hundreds of skilled members. In Nanling City, Ding Yao and his brothers could walk unchallenged. This world without law allowed for killing zombies and people alike.
A few seconds to light a cigarette became agonizing hours for the fire-using man. Between flicking the lighter open and shut, his mind raced.
Why did Ding Yao intervene? Did he know this woman? Was she his woman? Not knowing tormented him like a hanging sword overhead.
His face turned pale.
Finally, the cigarette was lit. Ding Yao closed the lighter, pocketed it, exhaled smoke, and glanced at Han Yanyan.
"Pretty," he said.
The fire user exhaled in relief, plastering a smile on his face. "Looks like a new arrival, weak water and ice abilities, not much use. Someone like her, meeting you, is truly lucky."
Ding Yao, biting his cigarette, glanced at him.
Bowing, the fire user stammered, "We'll just let her go with you, um, we'll, um..."
Ding Yao ceased looking at him, offering a low hum from his nose.
Grateful for reprieve, the fire user and his companions hurriedly helped their injured fellow away, not stopping until out of sight. "Scared me to death, thought we'd messed with Ding Yao's woman."
Luckily, they hadn't.
Watching them leave, Han Yanyan then heard Ding Yao speak to her, "...come here."
His voice was low, magnetic, with an unmistakable authority. Everyone on the street gave the men ample space, feigning nonchalance, avoiding openly watching Ding Yao.
No one had helped Han Yanyan before; even less so now.
Holding the fruit knife, Han Yanyan walked over. Covering her chest, her skirt tattered, exposing her graceful legs. Men’s eyes were glued to them.
Including Ding Yao's.
"Boss, she’s quite something, let's take her back." A round-faced man behind Ding Yao leered, eyeing Han Yanyan's legs and waist with obvious desire.
Silent, Han Yanyan kept her gaze on Ding Yao, gripping the knife tightly.
Under the dim light, Ding Yao's eyes shone with a fearsome clarity. Appraising her figure from bottom to top, he breathed smoke and said, "Come with us. Three meals a day guaranteed, no more than five brothers per day."