Chapter Thirty-Three: The Elixir of Talent

Second-tier zombies are not the same as first-tier ones. First-tier zombies don’t dodge or defend; they simply lunge forward, making them easy to kill. Second-tier zombies possess a glimmer of intelligence—they know that blocking blades with their heads is a mistake, so whenever Fang Xia strikes, they shield themselves with their claws.

Stubbornness took hold of Fang Xia; he refused to change his tactics, determined to test the strength of this second-tier zombie. He swung his blade over thirty times, and finally, with a brittle crack, the creature’s claw shattered.

On the last blow, the zombie instinctively raised both hands to protect itself. The war blade cut through it as easily as slicing tofu, splitting it cleanly in two.

Leaning on his blade, panting, Fang Xia mused that the zombie’s hands were certainly hard. He resolved never to do something so foolish again—it was simply too exhausting.

After resting for a few minutes, Fang Xia began to collect his spoils of war. There was no second-tier upgrade crystal, of course; with his luck, finding one would be a sign of trouble.

Nearby were two supply crates, unusually close together—something Fang Xia was seeing for the first time.

He rubbed his hands vigorously and opened the first crate: a war blade and a lunchbox, straightforward and practical. Weapons were always welcome, especially now that there were more survivors and weapons were in short supply. Ideally, he’d like both war blades and daggers, to have options.

As he opened the second crate, Fang Xia had no expectation for luck. It was, as always, a lunchbox—the perennial offering. Without even looking, he stuffed it into his storage space, followed by its old companion, a water bottle.

After gathering his loot, Fang Xia turned to leave, his mind replaying the recent events.

Wait—there was white light. Damn, this was an advanced supply crate.

He paused, his peripheral vision catching the faint glow, prompting him to turn back.

Once again, he rubbed his hands, as if this ritual could summon fortune.

The third item: a dagger.

The fourth: something new—a portable toilet.

“A toilet commonly used by ordinary travelers, easy to use, automatically decomposes waste.”

Well… it was a useful item. The apocalypse hadn’t lasted long, and Fang Xia lived on a high floor, so his restroom was still usable; those on lower floors were likely already reeking. With this, he could use the toilet in peace and conserve water.

The fifth item.

Fang Xia stared at the small object in his hand with a strange expression—this apocalypse seemed a bit indecent.

“Ultra-thin scented, for the ultimate experience.”

“Note: contains ten thousand units.”

As expected, just like a space ring, a gentle touch and his little brother drew a line—truly ultra-thin.

From now on, he wouldn’t have to hastily pull out his blade at the most critical moments.

The advanced supply crate hadn’t yielded spatial equipment, but the two new items were both practical and satisfying.

After this crate, Fang Xia adjusted his strategy.

He had noticed something: the last time he killed a second-tier zombie, it was beside a supply crate on the road, and he ended up with a superior crate.

This time, though not a superior crate, it was still advanced.

Following this logic, could it be that wherever there were second-tier zombies, there would be high-quality supply crates?

Having only encountered two so far, Fang Xia couldn’t be certain—if he met a few more, he’d know for sure.

With this idea in mind, he stopped searching the courtyards and began focusing on supply crates on the streets.

The streets swarmed with zombies, and even if someone spotted a crate, most wouldn’t dare approach. Previously, Fang Xia hadn’t bothered looking for street crates—they were too much trouble for too little reward. But now, with a new perspective, he soon spotted another crate.

He lay in ambush nearby, watching for two minutes, but saw no sign of a second-tier zombie. After some thought, he decided to give up.

A supply crate surrounded by a hundred or two zombies wasn’t worth the effort; even if he could handle it, the exhaustion would outweigh any gain.

In the apocalypse, one must always remember to preserve their strength—you never know what danger lurks around the next corner.

That danger could come from strange creatures or from fellow humans.

Wandering a while longer, Fang Xia discovered a second crate. This time, before he could observe closely, a second-tier zombie had already spotted him.

“Ah, you’re just the one I was waiting for.”

Left hand holding a war blade to his chest, right hand dragging a blade along the ground—steadfast in his approach.

The zombie charged aggressively, but met its end swiftly.

One blade blocked its attack, the other finished it off.

Second-tier zombies, nothing special.

Fang Xia, satisfied, sheathed his blades and bent down, reaching for air—

No upgrade crystal. It seemed he’d have to wait for Bai Xing’s arrival.

Beside the crate, seven or eight first-tier zombies lingered. Judging by their clothes, they were once humans who had tried to seize the crate, only to meet a grisly fate.

“You poor souls, life was hard enough, and now even in death you become zombies. I’ve avenged you—let me do a good deed and send you on.”

Muttering, Fang Xia showed no mercy, dispatching each with a single stroke.

Supply crate, here I come.

Heart pounding with excitement, Fang Xia gazed at the crate before him. If his reasoning was correct, at least this would be an advanced crate.

The first two items: lunchbox and water bottle, nothing new.

The white light remained—so his guess was correct.

A war blade, excellent.

A ring—finally, the spatial ring, +500 space.

Then, a lunchbox?

Are you kidding me?

Fang Xia cursed, then realized the white light hadn’t faded.

A superior supply crate!

He’d finally broken free from his streak of bad luck.

His hands trembled, and he drew out three more lunchboxes in succession.

He remembered mocking Bai Xing after the last superior crate. Retribution, it seemed, had come swiftly.

The ninth item: a talent serum.

“Use it for a chance to awaken an ability talent.”

Ability talent—Fang Xia knew about this.

Some chosen ones, upon reaching the third rank as fighters, suddenly awaken an ability talent.

Cheng Gang, the lord of Dawn City, had awakened a fire-type ability.

Fang Xia himself had been a third-rank fighter in his previous life, but had never awakened any ability.

With this serum, could he finally awaken one?

Suppressing his excitement, Fang Xia knew he’d need a safe place to use it.

One last item remained.

With the talent serum in hand, Fang Xia’s enthusiasm for the tenth item waned; whatever it was, it didn’t matter much.

Good heavens, was he blessed by fortune today?

A jade green bracelet appeared in his hand—another spatial item.

A bracelet, +5000 space!

The shopping mall.

Fang Xia hadn’t cleared out all the zombies wandering inside, but quietly made his way to the basement.

Sure enough, there was a storage warehouse.

Its doors were tightly shut, indicating no one had been here yet.

At this stage, survivors were mostly searching supermarkets. Spatial equipment owners were rare, and most used their space to hoard water and food, not for other goods.