The dying sun leaned westward, crimson wisps of burning clouds stretching on for ten thousand li.
The wind howled, and across the cracked, salt-crusted gobi, stones and sand went flying.
On the vast plain of the northern wasteland, beneath a cliff that broke the wind, three modified vehicles were arranged in an arc, forming a makeshift wall around two tents. Four mercenaries in yellow-brown combat gear, wearing helmets and filter gas masks, patrolled ceaselessly around the camp, rifles at the ready.
On a dune facing the camp, Ning Zhe had buried his body beneath the yellow sand, leaving only his shoulders and above exposed. His blazing eyes were fixed on the makeshift camp in the distance; his sharp, angular face carried a wild, untamed ferocity.
He was twenty years old this year, one meter eighty-five tall, and being a hunter by trade, he had a sturdy, muscular build, quite different from the gaunt, skin-and-bones look of most people in the refugee zone.
Ever since the radiation-laden swarm of meteorites had struck the Earth, global temperatures had soared, thousands of li of land had turned barren, hurricanes raged unchecked, civilization had regressed, and the world had fallen into chaos.
More than half a century had passed, and the world still had not recovered from the catastrophe; the various factions fought endlessly over clean food and water.
Ecological crisis, energy crisis, food crisis…
One crisis after another came crashing down, and to escape the brutal conditions of survival in the radiation zones, everyone yearned for the Federation, this last pure land.
The Free Federation had no cities; it was made up of countless strongholds controlled by different powers. These strongholds, ringed by high walls to fend off danger, were scattered across Federation territory like pieces on a chessboard.
The lands outside the strongholds were collectively known as the refugee zone.
City-dwellers and refugees were two utterly different kinds of people.
Unfortunately, Ning Zhe was one of the tens of millions of people in the refugee zone. On this lawless land where he lived out his survival, civilization was destroyed, order had collapsed.
To survive, no means was too low.
The reason Ning Zhe found himself here today was that he had been hired by a gang to come retrieve something from this camp.
"Skitter!"
A lizard darted swiftly across the sand; Ning Zhe snatched it up in one hand and raised it to his mouth.
"Crunch!"
The lizard was bitten clean in two, green blood trickling slowly down the corner of Ning Zhe's mouth.
"Gulp."
Beside him, Lin Xun watched this and swallowed hard, licking his already-cracked lips as he asked, "Brother Zhe, we've been lying in wait for three hours now, when are we actually going to move?"
"Wait a little longer. It's not dark yet." Ning Zhe handed over the remaining half of the lizard.
"Slurp!"
Lin Xun took the half-lizard and sucked hard at the blood inside it, trying to wet his parched throat, and once he could squeeze no more liquid from it, he stuffed the still-twitching remains into his mouth, chewing hard, and continued, "Down there in the camp, there are at least ten of them. There's only six of us, and on top of that, they've got guns. You really think we can pull this off?"
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"Once we get our hands on the thing, we'll each get a hundred jin of coarse rice as payment. With that grain, we might just make it through this winter. We take the gamble, that's the only way out!" Ning Zhe replied, his gaze deep and steady as he watched the tents in the distance.
An hour passed. The sun sank below the horizon, and the temperature dropped sharply. The four soldiers patrolling the camp were called back by their comrades to eat.
The wind picked up, wild sand raged, and visibility plunged.
"Here's our chance! Move in!" Seeing the camp go slack, Ning Zhe rose up out of the yellow sand.
As Ning Zhe began to move, the sand in the distance rippled as well. Four men who had lain hidden for a long time emerged from the yellow sand and fell in behind him.
Ning Zhe had spent hours observing the camp and had noticed that when the mercenaries changed shifts, swapping out their gear created a gap of roughly three minutes; and since this happened to coincide with dinner, that window might well run even longer.
Under cover of the blowing sand, the group quickly closed in on the makeshift camp. Ning Zhe raised his left fist, signaling the others to halt, then said, glancing sideways, "Dongbao, take one man and keep watch. The other two, keep your eyes on the tent where the mercenaries are. Lin Xun and I will handle the job."
"Tap, tap!"
The others, hearing Ning Zhe's instructions, moved into position without a word.
Ning Zhe, with Lin Xun following, slipped past the vehicles with the light, quick movements of a wildcat, and soon crept up to the edge of the largest tent. Using his bone knife, he lifted the edge of the door flap and cast his gaze through the gap.
At that moment, in the center of the tent, a bronze basin held glowing coals casting a red light. Beside a nearby table, a man wearing a headset sat with his back to the entrance, turning the crank of a hand-cranked generator to power a case-mounted field radio while speaking into it: "Boss, we've successfully got hold of the chip. We're currently on our way back to Stronghold 87, but we've run into a serious sandstorm, so we're taking a break."
"Snap!"
Ning Zhe's arm moved, lifting the cord that held the door flap in place, and in a voice only the two of them could hear, he said, "Remember, once we've got the thing, we leave. Don't get greedy and waste time over supplies. And one more thing, unless there's absolutely no choice, no killing. If a man from a stronghold dies in the refugee zone, they'll investigate down to the last detail, guaranteed!"
Lin Xun made an "OK" gesture with his hand, then unslung the longbow strung with bear-sinew from his back and drew a feathered arrow from his waist.
The flap slowly parted, and Ning Zhe, bone knife held in a reverse grip, advanced with steady steps.
"Boss, don't worry. I know the city's drinking water is running critically low, that the pumps are already drawing close to the contaminated layer. Going by my current schedule, I'll be back at the stronghold within two days at the latest. I definitely won't hold up company business!" The man, cranking the handle with one hand, reached the other toward the water cup beside him; out of the corner of his eye, he caught a shadow reflected on the stainless steel cup, and jerked swiftly to one side.
"Whoosh!"
Ning Zhe's arm swung, the blade slicing past almost grazing the man's neck, severing the headset's connecting wire and cutting off his link to the outside world.
"Damn it! Who are you people?!" the man barked, even as he reached for the multi-barreled pistol at his waist.
"Whizz!"
The instant the man made his move, the arrow in Lin Xun's hand shot out with brutal force, driving straight through his arm.
"Thud!"
Ning Zhe surged forward, slamming the man roughly against the table behind him, bone knife pressed to his throat. "Not a sound! Or I'll take your life!"
"Brother, you're a refugee, aren't you?" the man said, catching the stench coming off Ning Zhe and taking in his ragged clothes, forcing down the pain in his arm. "I know there's been famine in the refugee zone this year, that things have been hard for you people! If you don't do anything rash, I can give you all the money and food I've brought with me. What do you say?"
"I'm not here begging for food! Hand over the chip, and I'll leave right away!" Ning Zhe had no real idea what this chip actually was; he was simply repeating what his employer had demanded.
"You're after the chip?" Hearing this, the corners of the man's eyes twitched violently, twice. "Do you have any idea how important the water purification chip is? Right now, Stronghold 87 is already critically short on water! We absolutely have to use the chip's program to upgrade the pumps' filtration system! Otherwise, the whole city will have nothing left to drink but contaminated waste water!"
"None of that has anything to do with me. That purified water was never going to reach me anyway! I'll say it once: either you hand over the chip, or I find it myself on your corpse!" Ning Zhe's wrist tensed, the edge of the bone knife drawing a line of blood across the man's neck.