Chapter 114: The Erasure of Humanity

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This group of people who still clung to their conscience, despite the scarcity of food, would rather eat grass roots, gnaw on leaves and bark, than cross the line into cannibalism. Without Xie Han’s arrival, they would have maintained this moral boundary, continuing their near-primitive existence until one by one they perished.

Half a month subsisting on grass roots and tree bark had already driven them to desperation. The heavy aroma of meat was like the final straw breaking the barrier of their conscience. Even if it was human flesh, what did it matter? As long as they could have a proper meal, even if burdened by guilt, even if after eating they regarded themselves as food for others, they would accept it willingly.

Under such thinking, the leader who had always guided them could no longer restrain them. Like starving wild dogs, they swarmed out of the cave.

Xie Han looked at this ragged group rushing out—clad in tattered rags that barely covered their vital parts, their tangled hair resembling street beggars. The once strong scent of meat was instantly overwhelmed by a foul stench—a mixture of several revolting odors—clear evidence of their dire living conditions.

As they poured out, two heavy machine guns opened fire, sending a burst of bullets that pinned them to the cave’s entrance. Five beams from laser sniper rifles fired from hidden positions struck the hard rock, gouging five bowl-sized craters. The roaring of the laser rifles snapped the dazed men awake. They stood frozen, dumbfounded, awaiting the massacre they expected. Some fearless ones still fixed their eyes on the racks roasting meat and the opened cans of meat on the grass, ignoring the guns pointed at them.

A pale-faced middle-aged man, weakened from hunger, stumbled out of the cave holding a pistol, repeating insistently, “They are demons, man-eating demons. You must come back quickly, don’t be fooled—return now...”

Xie Han observed him with interest. It was likely thanks to this man that cannibalism had not yet reared its head in this group. He was evidently a rational and capable leader; otherwise, the fifty or sixty people would not have followed him in maintaining their moral line in this degenerate apocalypse, choosing to eat grass roots and bark rather than each other.

The middle-aged man, sensing the hostile atmosphere, recovered from his panic. Before him stood a group of soldiers, fully alert and dressed in standard uniforms, each carrying a heavy machine gun, their combined firepower terrifying. These were clearly not the demons he had shouted about but an unknown force that had appeared from nowhere.

A flicker of gray hopelessness crossed the man’s eyes, soon replaced by ecstatic joy as he shouted, “Save us! Please save us!”

Xie Han had to admit this man was clever. In just a few moments, he had grasped the situation and even understood the significance of Xie Han’s presence. For people like them with nowhere to go, Xie Han’s arrival meant the emergence of a base—whether near or far, following this force offered a glimmer of hope for survival.

At the man’s cries, the ragged group finally understood and called out desperately, but none dared rush forward. The two heavy machine guns blocking their path were no mere decoration; charging without permission would only mean death.

Xie Han did not order the soldiers to lower their guard but pointed at the middle-aged man and said, “Come over here first.”

The man exhaled in relief and jogged up to Xie Han respectfully, “I am Zhuang Jiayuan. It is an honor to meet you.” He struggled not to stare at the dozen or so opened cans of meat beside the young man, but his attraction grew stronger, and he could only swallow hard, glaring at the cans.

Xie Han found this amusing but showed no expression, merely clearing his throat. Hearing this, Zhuang Jiayuan reluctantly shifted his gaze away and jerked his head sharply, no longer looking at the cans.

“You escaped from Wangtian Base, didn’t you?” Xie Han asked casually.

Zhuang Jiayuan answered respectfully, “Yes, sir.”

Xie Han chewed on a piece of grass root and asked, “So for these past two weeks, you’ve been surviving on this?”

Zhuang Jiayuan gave a bitter smile, unvarnished. “Yes. When we escaped, there were over two hundred of us. But the food from the base was consumed within three days. We had no choice but to scavenge wild fruits and plants. Some couldn’t bear it and left, so now there are only those you see.”

“But why did you choose to stay? Leaving to find a new place to live offers hope. Staying here, relying on roots and bark, won’t last. Soon you’ll starve.”

Zhuang Jiayuan shook his head. “I know all that. But I can’t abandon this group who have lost the will to survive. Everyone has a sense of responsibility; it’s just a question of how seriously they take it.”

“So...” Xie Han picked up a can of meat from the grass. “Your responsibility is to lead them to endure?”

Zhuang Jiayuan swallowed hard. “You could say that. But I don’t see myself as great—I just don’t want my conscience to die in this apocalypse.”

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Suddenly, Xie Han applauded and handed the can to Zhuang Jiayuan. “I must say, you’ve convinced me. Honestly, in the apocalypse, having someone like you is rare. As it happens, I also come from Wangtian Base—fellow survivors.”

The temptation of the meat can, coupled with this revelation, stunned Zhuang Jiayuan. “You... you say you also escaped from Wangtian Base? During the zombie siege?” Before Xie Han could answer, tears sprang to his eyes, the feeling of returning home lifting the weight from his shoulders. After half a month of hardship, there was finally relief.

Seeing this strong man reveal such genuine emotion surprised and impressed Xie Han. Helping him up, he said, “Eat first. Get some strength, then tell me everything that’s happened these past two weeks.”

Zhuang Jiayuan, embarrassed by his lapse, stood frozen clutching the can. The warmth of the meat can revived him, and shyly he asked, “Could I... could I let... them also...?”

Xie Han laughed heartily. “Bring them all over.”

By their supply standards, each soldier carried five packs of compressed biscuits, two cans of meat, and one kilogram of rice. With over sixty people emerging from the cave, the soldiers’ meat cans were just enough for one per person, and each also received a pack of biscuits—not enough to fill them, but enough to keep hunger at bay.

The group voraciously gnawed on the biscuits, occasionally dipping into the meat juices, savoring every morsel until they licked their fingers clean. Those who had eaten grass roots that morning now seemed to have risen from hell to heaven.

Once Zhuang Jiayuan was half full, Xie Han led him aside. “I assume you’ve guessed why I’m here. How much do you know about this area? Are there others like you still here?”

Zhuang Jiayuan paused, then said, “At the start of the two weeks, no one cared for anyone else—we lived in constant fear. After the zombie hordes left, we knew it was safe. But as food dwindled, survivors began fighting among themselves, forming temporary groups. The conflicts never stopped. Smaller groups were either absorbed or annihilated.”

“And the demons you shouted about just now?”

Zhuang Jiayuan’s expression darkened and he grew agitated. “Demons—only demons could do what they did. Not only did they cannibalize, but they twisted it into all sorts of forms. I can never forget what I saw.” His face twisted in pain. “Almost every cooking method in human history, they used. You can’t imagine what it was like.”

As a modern man taught to respect life, Xie Han found such acts intolerable. Although he had been in this apocalypse only briefly, this was the first time he had heard of such horrors up close.

Everyone has a psychological limit; when it’s broken, even the gentlest person will fight back—especially those with consciousness. Hearing this, Xie Han felt as if his own limits had been trampled on, burning with uncontrollable rage. He knew applying modern morality to the apocalypse was flawed, but still he could not quell his fury.

“Where are these beasts?” Xie Han asked calmly, though those who knew him understood this was the calm before the storm.

Zhuang Jiayuan pointed to a nearby peak. “They’re up there. If we didn’t still have a few guns, we’d be their food by now.” He sensed the young commander’s fury and knew these scumbags’ fate was sealed with the power at hand.

After learning their numbers, Xie Han left ten soldiers to guard the survivors and led the rest to wipe out the cannibals. He trusted Zhuang Jiayuan’s word—if he valued his life.

The two peaks were about two kilometers apart. The bushes along the route had been cut into a rough trail.

The team moved cautiously. Surprisingly, no sentries appeared until they neared the mountain’s base. Had the cannibals fled?

Zhuang Jiayuan was confident. “They’re the strongest here and don’t bother with sentries at the base.”

Just as he said, near the summit, a simple watch post jutted from a cliff, with two sentries chatting—one armed with a knife, the other with a gun.

Xie Han halted the team and silently crept through waist-high grass toward the post without disturbing a blade. The sentries remained oblivious.

Seeing their cooperation, Xie Han wasted no time and began climbing the cliff with hand and feet.

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The cliff was not high. Within a minute, Xie Han reached the edge of the post, gripping the rock outcrops. Suddenly, with a burst of strength, he leapt up, drawing three Mitsubishi combat knives from his spatial storage. Before the sentries could react, he slashed across their necks.

The entire motion was seamless, killing the two sentries without a sound.

He signaled the team below with an “O” gesture and ignored their astonished looks, then sprinted toward the summit.

If possible, Xie Han wished he had never come or seen what awaited atop this mountain. Though Zhuang Jiayuan’s descriptions had been grotesque, nothing compared to the reality he now faced.

The summit was a flat grassy field bordered by sheer cliffs several meters high. A mountain spring trickled from a crack in the rock into a natural pool in the middle.

In peaceful times, this would be a paradise. But now it was a scene from the eighteenth level of hell.

By the pool, large cauldrons boiled over fierce flames. From afar, chunks of meat churned in the water, cooking until tender or rotten.

Near the pots stood several burly men tending the fire. Blood-stained machetes lay on the ground nearby. Close to the blades were severed, white female arms, the jagged ends darkened with coagulated blood, making the limbs look monstrous.

Several women’s heads hung from a rack made of tree branches, occasionally dripping black blood.

Strung on iron wires across the rack were thin slices of meat, yellowed and curled from sun drying—clearly preserved human flesh. Combined with the limbs and meat in the pots, the gruesome truth was clear.

Xie Han’s sharp hearing picked up their casual chatter about tasting human flesh, punctuated by bursts of laughter showing their twisted delight.

Perhaps the meat was done cooking. A scar-faced man stood, grabbed an iron hook, and fished out a chunk resembling female breast meat. Blowing on it, he bit off a piece with relish, clicking his tongue in satisfaction.

The hellish scene nearly made Xie Han vomit. His grip on his tiger tooth blade trembled with rage. He had never imagined people could treat cannibalism as an art or pleasure. In ancient times, famine forced such acts, but those pale in comparison.

Stirred by the scar-faced man’s feast, Xie Han’s fury exploded like a pressure cooker. As a Level Three gene rank, this was his first time experiencing such power. In the blink of an eye, he became a blur racing to the scar-faced man.

The sudden appearance stunned the man mid-chew, his mouth agape with meat fragments. Before he could utter a sound, Xie Han’s raised blade came down fiercely, cleaving him in two.

Blood sprayed, entrails spilled, brains burst—none touched Xie Han, who had already activated his terrifying speed again, lunging at the others who hadn’t yet reacted.

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