Apocalypse: the Most Ruthless Person - Chapter 241 190: Clearing Out the Remnants

“Damn it.”

Wang Xingui couldn’t help but be shocked in his heart. Based on the evidence Zhang Su just listed, obliterating Beita Camp wasn’t excessive at all. It was just that the explosion earlier was too terrifying; he still felt lingering fear.

“I’m Zhao Guishui, the village chief of Beita Camp. Brothers, the ones who harmed you have already been blown to pieces. The ones left are all innocent people. Don’t commit more sins; don’t let your subordinates commit more sins!”

Zhao Guishui’s pained and distressed tone echoed in the sky.

“Innocent? Committing more sins?”

Zhang Su’s gaze turned cold. When a fight breaks out, there are no innocent individuals on either side, and he had also heard some voices disagreeing with Zhao Guishui.

For example: Old Zhao, stop talking and get on with it, avenge our brothers; fight to the death; I must avenge Brother…

The most infuriating thing was that even at this time, the other side was still trying to sow discord. What did they mean by not letting his subordinates commit more sins? Clearly trying to stir dissatisfaction with the leader.

“Attack!”

Zhang Su did not respond to Zhao Guishui’s words but directly issued the attack command. He wanted to see if anyone dared defy him!

“No, no, brothers, listen to me…”

Zhao Guishui did not give up, but his voice was abruptly cut off. Zhang Su knew someone had taken over, and preparations for battle were already set in the yard.

Boom.

Bang, bang.

Rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat…

The second confrontation not only involved firearms but also earthen grenades, but alas, they missed their mark and were weak in power, a far cry from the Great Grenade. The flying shrapnel barely scratched those hit, at most tearing the skin.

In less than five minutes, the courtyard where Zhao Guishui was was in chaos from the automatic rifle fire, water jars and tiles shattering everywhere, plastic window frames riddled with bullet holes, charcoal and corn scattered everywhere, bodies lying in pools of blood with no survivors.

Zhang Su arrived at the smoke-filled courtyard entrance and said, “Old Yu, Master Jia, go to the collapsed house courtyard and finish them off, don’t let those guys come back as zombies and harm anyone! Xiaoshuai, Dachao, guard that courtyard and don’t let anyone escape!”

“Are there… people in the yard?”

Guo Dachao looked at the tightly closed, silent yard in surprise.

“Go, go, go, if Brother Su says there are people, then there definitely are.”

Qi Xiaoshuai understood Zhang Su better than Guo Dachao and waved to take him away.

There were indeed people in the third courtyard. The sounds coming out were trembling, filled with fear and dread. Zhang Su couldn’t grasp the situation there, planning to address the current matters first.

Zhang Su led a few people into the courtyard and shone a flashlight directly into the storage room, letting out a cold laugh: “Get out!”

“There are still people?”

Lu Yubo jumped in fright, quickly raising his gun to aim.

“No, no, no, don’t shoot, I’m coming out!”

Perhaps frightened by the sound of a gun being cocked, Zhao Guishui timidly walked out from behind a piece of iron, hands raised above his head, face covered in snot, tears, and fear, with a wet patch on his pants.

“Zhao Guishui?”

Zhang Su held the gun with one hand aiming at Zhao Guishui, stepping forward.

“Yes, yes, it’s me, it’s me…”

At this moment, Zhao Guishui had lost any semblance of the village chief of Beita Camp, his legs trembling, almost kneeling on the spot.

Zhang Su, seeing Zhao Guishui’s cowardly appearance, almost believed that he really had nothing to do with the conflict, but that thought quickly passed.

“Quite the hider, alright, since you’re not dead, go gather in the neighboring courtyard!”

After saying that, he searched Zhao Guishui’s body, threw a dagger to the ground, and kicked him out of the courtyard.

Taking the time Zhao Guishui used to gather villagers, Zhang Su and his team counted the enemies killed in the battle, totaling twenty-eight, and found the two teenage boys who had tricked him in Niuquanzi Town.

“Mr. Zhang, there are some bomb-making materials in the ruins, but Old Jia and I can’t move the rocks, so we need everyone’s help later.”

Yuwen and Jia Shiqin completed their task and returned to Zhang Su.

In the courtyard flattened by a Great Grenade, there were no survivors. Even those not killed by the blast were crushed by cement slabs. Teacher Yu and Master Jia finished off the reachable ones, and shot the others, acting swiftly and still searching for supplies.

“Alright, once we’re done here, we’ll take those things away, they’re treasures!”

Having witnessed the power of the Great Grenade, Zhang Su considered it a lethal weapon crucial for both offense and defense.

While talking, they all moved into the courtyard that had remained silent from the start of the fight to its end.

When Zhang Su saw the people in front of him, he immediately frowned.

“Little brother, these are the laborers from our village, from now on they’ll all be yours.”

Seeing Zhang Su enter the courtyard with a cold face, Zhao Guishui quickly nodded and bowed.

Behind him stood fifteen old people, children, and women, their hands and feet bound, mostly sallow, emaciated, and ragged, like famine refugees fleeing hundreds of miles, their eyes dull and full of fear.

“What’s going on with you?”

Zhang Su pointed at the old, young, and women, asking.

“They are…”

“I’m not asking you.”

Zhang Su glanced at Zhao Guishui.

“This young man…”

An older man in the crowd cupped his hands towards Zhang Su, saying, “We… we’re all old farmers working in Beita Camp.”

“Why are workers being restrained?”

Zhang Su pressed.

“Because… well, we eat less, work more, they’re afraid we’ll run away, so…”

“We’re nothing but slaves!”

A middle-aged woman spoke up, her fear turned to anger as she glared at the hunched Zhao Guishui beside her, snarling, “He treats us like livestock, one bowl of bran porridge a day, and the rest is work. He doesn’t even see us as human!”

“Hey, don’t talk nonsense!” Seeing Zhang Su’s face turn cold, Zhao Guishui hurriedly smiled ingratiatingly, “Young man, it’s not what you think…”

Rat-tat!

“To hell with you!”

Zhang Su cocked his gun and fired two shots, immediately taking out Zhao Guishui, who was standing by with a forced smile.

Explanation?

Explanation my ass.

“Ah…”

Wang Xingui was startled. The scene reminded him of the day they ambushed Zhang Su’s convoy. It was just as unexpected; two shots, and the previous leader of United Village was dead.

King Yama truly lived up to his title, taking lives without warning!

“As the village head, when enemies come, you don’t fight alongside the villagers but hide away and even sow discord. Damn it, fuck you!”

Zhang Su glanced at Zhao Guishui’s corpse, then looked at the crowd in front of him and said, “Were you all coerced?”

Fifteen people slowly nodded, their faces showing indescribable sorrow. Some were wiping away tears; it was clear they had suffered tremendously in recent days.

“Come on, everyone, lift your heads and look at me.”

In the post-apocalyptic world, people would play any part just to survive. Zhang Su wasn’t easy to trust, but he hoped not to mistakenly kill the slaves oppressed by Beita Camp, as that wouldn’t be good.

The old, weak, women, and children didn’t know what Zhang Su intended, but obediently complied. Even though they were fearful, they still trembled as they raised their heads to look at him.

With his extraordinary eyesight and years of experience, Zhang Su was skilled at reading people even without understanding psychology.

His gaze met each of the fifteen, seeing the elderly’s silent despair, the children’s longing and hope, and the women’s humiliation and desperation. However, among these gazes, he noticed several filled with resentment and hatred?

Stockholm syndrome?

Or were they villagers from Beita Camp trying to blend in among the slaves?

Zhang Su wasn’t sure, nor did he want to know.

“You, you, and you, step forward!”

The elderly man and two women whom Zhang Su pointed out shuddered and timidly took a few steps forward, their faces revealing fear. Perhaps they knew why they were singled out.

“Dachao, this one’s yours. Master Jia, this one’s yours.”

Zhang Su grabbed the two women and pushed them toward Guo Dachao and Jia Shiqin.

Guo Dachao awkwardly waved his hands, “No, no, no, Brother Su, I’ve already got Xiaojie…”

Bam!

“Ah!”

Guo Dachao thought Zhang Su was giving him a warm bed companion, but before he could refuse, Zhang Su turned and shot the elderly man’s brain!

Blood splattered, and he collapsed, never understanding how he’d been exposed.

“What are you thinking? Get to work!”

Zhang Su turned to face the incredulous Guo Dachao and Jia Shiqin.

“Spare us, spare us…”

“Please don’t, don’t kill me…”

The two women thought they’d escaped death, not realizing Hell’s door had already opened. Both knelt down, begging for mercy.

The other elderly, weak, women, and children were petrified, their eyes wide and some crouching down, afraid to open their eyes, worried it would soon be their turn.

“Brother Su, this, this, this…”

“I…”

Guo Dachao and Jia Shiqin were bewildered, unclear about the situation before them.

“Hurry up! Do it.”

Still stunned, Guo Dachao received a nudge from Qi Xiaoshuai behind him, who relentlessly gave him suggestive looks.

Jia Shiqin faced a similar situation; Yuwen even helped remove his shoulder rifle and unlocked the safety…

Bang, bang bang.

The two weren’t slow-witted, just caught off guard. Seeing Zhang Su’s cold and resolute gaze, they seemed to understand something and pulled the trigger.

“Very good.”

Zhang Su nodded, looking again at the terrified Beita Camp slaves.

“Those three—do you know anything about their situation?”

Faced with Zhang Su’s vague question, twelve slaves mechanically shook their heads, clearly unaware.

Zhang Su didn’t dwell on it. Their grim lives had left them lifeless, with likely no energy to notice other matters.

“The remnants have been cleared. Now, you have three options: First, take a day’s worth of rations and leave the area of Beidong Town and Niuquanzi Town. Second, let me introduce, this is…”

As he spoke, Zhang Su pulled Wang Xingui to the front, saying, “The leading figure of United Village in Beidong Town, Wang Xingui, more reliable than Zhao Guishui. You can all join United Village as labor! Note, labor, not slaves!”

“No!”

Wang Xingui was startled, his face bitter, “Brother Zhang, I don’t want this…”

“They can work, farm, why wouldn’t you want them? If you refuse, you won’t get your spoils!”

Zhang Su outright threatened Wang Xingui.

“Damn…” Wang Xingui grimaced, “What’s the third option? They might not want to go to United Village.”

“The third option, collectively sent to United Village to hang themselves!” Zhang Su said dismissively.

“Pfft…”

Lu Yubo couldn’t help but laugh, quickly apologizing, “Sorry, sneezed, I’m going out for a smoke…”

Wang Xingui rolled his eyes dramatically, what nonsense was this?

“Choose!”

Zhang Su looked at the twelve.

Though it seemed like three options, there was really just one. The elderly spokesperson deeply inhaled, bending down and bowing, “Young Master, you have a heart of compassion, saving us from the abyss, eternally grateful, we wish to join United Village.”

“We wish to join United Village.”

With that, all twelve knelt, bowing their heads to Zhang Su’s group.

To them, today was their liberation.