WMSR – QT Chapter 115

WMSR – QT Chapter 115

By

siofra

Chapter 115: The Senior of the Apocalypse

The dark-clad figure unzipped the parcel to inspect the contents, weighed it by hand, and gave a brief nod before preparing to pivot away. Yet this time, the traders from the outpost did not watch him depart with their customary expressions of awestruck reverence. Instead, they urgently called out to the retreating figure: "Mr. Lin, please wait a moment."

Hearing the call, Lin Jiawen turned around with a puzzled look, using his gaze to demand their purpose.

Catching the absolute, pitch-black abyss of Lin Jiawen's stare, the men instinctively flinched. Yet mindful of their impending migration, and recognizing that incorporating such an overwhelmingly powerful supernatural wielder would guarantee them high-standing status within any major survivor safe zone, a man named Gu Song hardened his resolve and spoke up: "Respected Mr. Lin, due to the escalating threat posed by the zombies in Z City, we have decided to evacuate and merge into the largest survivor safe zone in the south."

Hearing Gu Song's declaration, Lin Jiawen experienced a brief mental lapse. Are they preparing to leave as well?

Gu Song pressed forward, delivering the crux of his pitch: "Mr. Lin, our outpost is the final remaining human settlement in Z City. Once we depart, this city will cease to generate any food supplies. Outposts of our scale have grown exceedingly rare across the region; for safety, the masses have consolidated within major safe zones. We hear those safe zones offer enhanced security, abundant provisions, and a warm welcome to elite ability wielders. We believe someone of your staggering caliber would command the highest tier of privileges there. We wonder if you might consider accompanying us on our migration."

Despite the crushing psychological pressure of meeting the wielder's gaze, Gu Song forced himself to lift his chin in eager expectation. This logic formed the bedrock of his persuasion: they constituted Z City's final outpost. Once they abandoned the ruins, zero alternative hubs would remain to supply the wielder with sustenance. Regardless of how terrifyingly powerful an ability wielder proved to be, defying human biology by consuming thin air was impossible.

Gu Song's words presented an undeniable reality for Lin Jiawen, plunging him into silent contemplation.

Sensing that his argument had struck a chord, Gu Song pressed the advantage with a respectful bow: "Respected Mr. Lin, we depart prior to the onset of winter. Should you alter your decision at any point before then, you will be welcomed with open arms."

Nodding in acknowledgment without further commentary, Lin Jiawen glanced up at the shifting afternoon sky, pivoted on his heel, and vanished back into the skeletal high-rise architecture with blistering speed.

Gu Song watched the obsidian silhouette streak away, a flicker of burning envy crossing his eyes. To wander in and out of a zombie-infested metropolis like Z City with absolute impunity—what a godlike supernatural manifestation! They were both ability wielders, so why was the chasm between them so insurmountable? Yet as he mulled it over, whether it was mere imagination or reality, he felt a strange sensation that Mr. Lin's departure lacked its usual unhurried composure.

It must be an illusion. What earthly concern could possibly rattle an ability wielder of that magnitude?

Meanwhile, the man revered as an untouchable transcendent by Gu Song was currently sprinting at full throttle toward a luxury residential enclave nestled in the heart of Z City. Glancing down at his mechanical wristwatch, he discovered he was a full half-hour behind his usual schedule, triggering a distinct flicker of annoyance across his features.

Yet frustration altered no physical facts. To secure the specialized medical supplies required today, he had been forced to scour the opposite sector of Z City before executing the drop-off at the outpost. Even accounting for his accelerated wielder velocity, the round-trip transit demanded a massive expenditure of time.

Suppressing his internal turbulence, Lin Jiawen ripped off his pitch-black trench coat and tossed it casually into a dark alcove. Beneath the outer garment, he wore a crisp white shirt. Stripped of the ominous black outerwear, his aura softened visibly. While an ability wielder's eyes naturally retained an oppressive, heavy pressure, the clean-cut aesthetic of the crisp white shirt effectively neutralized that sharpness, lending him an air of scholarly refinement and complete harmlessness.

Indeed, the gentle, soft-spoken Lin Jiawen who operated daily inside Bai Yichen's domestic bubble was a persona reserved exclusively for him.

Over the past five years, while Bai Yichen remained strictly sequestered within their isolated sanctuary, Lin Jiawen maintained continuous engagement with the external wasteland. As the apocalypse dragged on, Lin Jiawen grew intimately familiar with the brutal laws governing this reality—far exceeding the surface-level understanding possessed by Bai Yichen.

Equally, the life experience and psychological maturity Lin Jiawen accumulated over half a decade spanned an echelon far broader than the gentle demeanor displayed at home.

Yet Lin Jiawen deliberately shielded Bai Yichen from those harsh realities. His singular objective was to cocoon the youth he cherished within his protective wings, ensuring an existence untouched by external trauma—preventing the boy from developing psychological distance or emotional alienation as Lin Jiawen's own physical and psychological aura grew increasingly intimidating due to his escalating power scaling.

Naturally, the youth he adored could no longer be accurately classified as a mere boy; contemplating the breathtaking, magnetic young man his beloved had matured into invariably sent Lin Jiawen's pulse racing into overdrive. In truth, had it not been for the supreme muscular and neurological control granted by his high-tier ability, he would have broken down in flustered, blushing embarrassment countless times before the youth over the years.

Lin Jiawen viewed himself as profoundly fortunate. At times, amidst quiet reflections, he even felt an unvoiced surge of gratitude toward the apocalyptic catastrophe. Though the wasteland had upended civilization and cast countless lives into the abyss of suffering, it served as the literal genesis of his true existence. Without the apocalypse, he never would have crossed paths with his beloved; within a peaceful social structure, despite their coexistence, an ordinary clerk like his former self never could have generated a single point of intersection with someone of that caliber.

Yet now, forged by the furnace of the apocalypse and backed by absolute supernatural dominance, he possessed the power to cage his beloved within his private sanctuary, positioning himself as the absolute center of the boy's universe—forcing those eyes to reflect him alone, while relying entirely on his shelter for survival.

The lifestyle of the past five years resembled an exquisite, flawless dream to Lin Jiawen.

Yet at present, the forced departure of Z City's final survivor outpost threatened to shatter that equilibrium.

Anchoring his thoughts back to the immediate reality, Lin Jiawen stared down at the modest batch of salvaged rations he had just secured, and his brow furrowed deeply.

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