Doomsday Spiritual Artifact Master

Chapter 123 – Life-and-Death Marathon (14)
◎ For just 28,888, bring home the zombie-slaying artifact ◎

 

Upon hearing the figure of two million, Song Ke’s expression seemed trance-like. Wang Hu, assuming she was intimidated by his substantial wealth, proudly displayed his lavishness by swinging his heavy gold chain to the sides, then waved generously, saying, “It might be a bit pricey, but luckily, it offers great value for the money. I’m fortunate to have stumbled upon it. Others couldn’t even buy it if they wanted!”

“Great value for the money? Really?” Song Ke swallowed hard, hesitating, “It might only last for two or three years. It doesn’t seem… very cost-effective, does it?”

“You gotta be kidding! Have you ever used the ‘Thousand Deaths Blue Enchantress of Cataclysmic Annihilation’ weapon? Do you even know what you’re talking about?”

“I… I don’t?”

“Of course, you don’t!” Wang Hu glared, looking ready to argue with her. “Those high-tech weapons, too complicated for me! I’d be gasping for air if zombies got too close. But with my precious here, I just swing and slash, and all the zombies back off!”

Song Ke fell silent, unable to respond.

Suddenly, she thought of something, her eyes shining with excitement. Her expression turned sincere, “If there were still ‘Cataclysmic Annihilation er… Blue Enchantress’…”

“‘Thousand Deaths Blue Enchantress of Cataclysmic Annihilation,'” Wang Hu corrected her matter-of-factly.

“Ah, right, right,” Song Ke nodded. “If there were more, would you buy them?”

“Well…” Wang Hu glanced at the golf clubs his bodyguards used, rubbing his chin in contemplation. “It’s a bit extravagant. If I replaced all of them, it would cost a dozen or so… sigh, even for someone wealthy like me, it’s a bit painful. It’d be great if there were discounts for bulk purchases.”

“There are! Discounts!” Song Ke raised her voice, breaking into excitement.

Wang Hu eyed her suspiciously. “Hey, who are you? You’ve been acting strange. Do you have any opinions about my precious items?”

“No opinions!” Song Ke shook her head quickly. “I have a friend who can get… this.”

She subtly moved her hand and pulled out a kunai from her coat pocket. The blade was entirely azure, emitting a chilling light, oddly similar to the machete Wang Hu held.

“You can get it from my friend for way less than two million,” Song Ke stated firmly. However, the exact price would need discussion with Zhuang Qingyan and the others.

Wang Hu’s eyes lit up. “Come on, little friend, let’s exchange contact info. If there’s stock, let me know first. I don’t need it delivered; I’ll pick it up myself!”

…

In an abandoned gas station in the wilderness, an SUV parked by the roadside. Lu Xiaoyu extended a mechanical arm to charge the vehicle with an energy gun.

The rest of the V587 team stretched their muscles. From this vantage point, they could already see the urban area of Haimen. Rolling hills extended endlessly, and a mighty river flowed through the bottom plain, forming a natural barrier. Coupled with the three layers of inner and outer city walls, Haimen’s central area was impregnable, comparable to Shaye.

For the Zombie King to attack Haimen, he would need to cross the river first and then breach three formidable defense lines. The difficulty level was exceedingly high. No wonder the Magistrate of Haimen once openly stated that to conquer Haimen, one would have to open all three doors from the inside.

Song Ke sat on the car roof, swinging her legs, watching Su Cha and Fang Zhixu retrieve supplies from the convenience store. Although most of the food had expired, they managed to find some non-perishable drinks and dry goods to replenish their stock.

“Do you want to sell the spiritual weapons to the people of Haimen?” Zhuang Qingyan’s wheelchair stopped in front of her. He looked up at her; the curve from his chin to his neck was remarkably smooth, and the protruding Adam’s apple moved as he spoke.

“Yeah, can I?” Song Ke asked eagerly.

“Of course,” Zhuang Qingyan smiled, brushing off the mud splattered on her legs. “The weapons belong to you; you can decide.”

“I want to earn a lot of money,” sighed Captain Song Ke, a financially strapped individual. She jumped down from the car roof and patted Zhuang Qingyan’s legs with a meaningful expression, “To support all of you.”

She had to support the old (Fang Zhixu) and the young (Xu Xing). She had to take care of an injured patient who was still recovering, and there was also a gold-swallowing beast who’d yell every day to buy materials. It’s very stressful.

Zhuang Qingyan looked at Song Ke with a complex expression. His Adam’s apple moved unnaturally. If he hadn’t known that the other party didn’t mean that, this behavior would have constituted serious s*xual harassment: “You…”

“What’s wrong?” Song Ke tilted her head, unaware of his discomfort.

“Captain, check your account,” Lu Xiaoyu leaned out from the driver’s seat, interrupting the slightly intimate atmosphere between the two.

Song Ke opened her terminal and widened her eyes in surprise. When did an additional one and a half million appear in her account?

Lu Xiaoyu, with pride in his ice-blue eyes, proudly explained, “Counting the interest, we retrieved one and a half million from that unscrupulous old man as your growth compensation fee.”

“You’re so amazing!” Song Ke exclaimed, giving him a thumbs-up with joy.

“Then can you buy Rhenium for me?” Lu Xiaoyu pushed further, the corners of his mouth stiffening.

“Can—”

“No, you can’t,” Zhuang Qingyan coldly interrupted their conversation. “Stop smiling; your smile is really sycophantic.”

Lu Xiaoyu stared at him expressionlessly for two seconds, then thud, he closed the car window.

Song Ke blinked, hesitant to speak.

Zhuang Qingyan explained in a calmer tone, “His request is unreasonable. Rhenium is too costly, and the amount you have isn’t enough for his whims. Don’t buy it for him.”

Thud thud, protests from Lu Xiaoyu hitting the car roof echoed from inside the SUV.

Zhuang Qingyan ignored his anger, seemingly indifferent. “If mass-produced, how many spiritual weapons can you create at once?”

Song Ke thought for a moment. Her awakened energy had increased significantly compared to six months ago, considering the production rate in Hua City at that time…

“500.”

500 was a safe number, not pushing her to her limit and allowing her to maintain combat strength after their creation.

“About right, enough to arm an elite force. Let’s go with 500,” Zhuang Qingyan nodded.

“How much should we sell them for?” Song Ke whispered, “Could they not be too expensive?”

She intended to sell the spiritual artifacts, partly to make money for their small treasury and partly to aid the people of Haimen in better resisting the zombie tide. Her intention wasn’t to extort them but to seize the opportunity for a disaster profit.

“Not expensive, but not too cheap either. After all, you’ve worked hard,” Zhuang Qingyan smiled at her reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I’ll consider the average economic status of the people in Haimen. I’ll ensure it’s within their means and they’ll be willing to buy.”

…

A group of strong civilians was driving zombies away in the outskirts. Some wielded baseball bats and knives, while others dragged suitcases, pulled chairs, bravely striking the zombies. However, despite their ferocity, their tools fell short—baseball bats cracked, knives dulled, suitcases and chairs ended up worn-out. Soon, they found themselves defenseless.

Among the zombies, there was a level 2 zombie, agile and swift, jumping up and down. It swiftly caught a person off-guard, roaring as it lunged to bite.

Swoosh, swoosh—several flying knives pierced through the air, penetrating the zombie’s head, splattering black-red brain matter across the ground.

The civilians, in a frenzy, helped their fallen comrade, looking up towards the unexpected saviors.

An SUV gradually halted in front of them, then reversed, revealing its trunk.

Thud—a masked woman opened the rear door enthusiastically. “Friends, have you heard of spiritual weapons?”

On the back of the door hung an array of various weapons, all emanating a chilling blue glow.

Lin Youyou’s lips moved swiftly, reciting a meticulously prepared advertisement: “Feeling unsafe during the apocalypse at home? Don’t panic! Song’s Spiritual Artifacts are ready! Encounter a zombie? Don’t fear! Whip out a spiritual weapon and let’s handle it together!”

Ding ding ding—”Today’s special offer! Just for 28,888, bring home the zombie-slaying artifact! Limited quantity, while supplies last!”

The group of civilians stared blankly at her.

Lin Youyou snapped her fingers. “Open up, bring out Su Cha.”

Su Cha: “…”

In a lightning-fast move, he swooped low over the zombie’s head. The decaying hand stretched out to grab his pant leg, but before it touched, his blue-bladed short knife clang clang severed its head. In less than five minutes, Su Cha dispatched more than a dozen zombies.

Lin Youyou’s eyes gleamed mischievously, lips curved. “How about it? Want one? Limited edition, you know.”

“I’ll buy! I’ll buy!!” The civilians suddenly shouted.

Similar scenes played out repeatedly around Haimen’s outskirts. V587 would rescue the civilians and then proceed to pitch, or rather exhibit, the available spiritual weapons to them.

“Come and see, don’t miss out! Check my goods, cheap and effective, buy some of my goods and guarantee a happy return home!”

“Just 28,888 for a spiritual weapon, no regrets, no scams!”

“Uncles and aunties, want to buy a spiritual weapon?”

Su Cha: “Selling… never mind.”

He couldn’t bring himself to speak, so he plunged into killing zombies, using actions as his loudest advertisement.

Song Ke laid on the car roof contentedly, reflecting, “I feel like Lin Youyou shouldn’t be a pop star.”

Out of the 500 spiritual artifacts, 380 were sold in less than two hours. Lin Youyou alone sold over 300, rightly earning the title of top salesperson. With her talent, she should pursue sales; forget being among the top ten rising stars, she could definitely become the leading influencer for Ferrara’s merchandise.

In the passenger seat, Zhuang Qingyan glanced at the map of Haimen. The night had already enveloped the area; not only was there no sign of the Zombie King’s shadow, but even the expected zombie tide hadn’t shown any activity. Haimen remained as calm as ever, with no discernible changes.

Had his speculation been wrong?

*

Haimen.

A small, thinly bundled girl, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a scarf, hurriedly crossed the streets. Her eyes wide with confusion, she looked left and right, swiftly making her way forward, her pace quickening into a run.

Thud—just as she turned the corner, the girl collided head-on with someone else. The sturdy man took a step back, gruffly shouting, “Hey! Can’t you watch where you’re going?”

Looking down, he saw a young girl, probably around thirteen or fourteen, sprawled on the ground in a daze. Her scarf had slipped halfway down, revealing her gray eyes. As if realizing something, she frantically tried to pull the scarf back up to cover her face.

Seeing her as just a kid, the man didn’t feel right to argue further. With irritation, he said, “Watch where you’re going next time!”

The girl mumbled a couple of words and hurriedly lowered her head. Her voice sounded hoarse, and her speaking seemed peculiar.

The man muttered to himself as he moved away, “…mixed-blood.”

The girl, using her hands, picked herself up from the ground. A couple of messy braids fell carelessly, exposing distinct corpse-like markings on her neck. Standing up straight, she dared not run again, slowly fading into the darkness.

 

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