At this moment, Hank Huang's face twisted with ferocity, as if he could already see Ian Song gunned down in a hail of bullets.
But as time slowly passed, the sound of gunfire never came, while a faint, mocking smile played on Ian Song's lips.
“What’s going on? Why aren’t you shooting?” Hank Huang asked in confusion, turning to look back—only to find that all his armed police officers were standing in place with guns raised, but none made a move to fire.
Seeing this, Hank Huang flew into a rage and roared, “Damn it! You bunch of idiots, I told you to shoot this punk dead!”
But bizarrely, the armed police still didn’t fire.
The furious Hank Huang noticed something odd—their eyes looked vacant, almost as if they’d turned stupid.
“What... what the hell is going on?”
He quickly scanned all the armed police, and to his horror, discovered that every single one had that same vacant stare. Were they possessed? Or...
Realizing this, he stared at Ian Song in terror. “Was it you? Did you do something to my men?”
“What do you think?”
Ian Song gave a strange little smile—it really was his doing. Using telepathy, he’d summoned the level-five J-Type Zombie nearby and had it hypnotize all the soldiers.
Even though these two hundred soldiers couldn’t threaten him, there were still plenty of ordinary people around, so calling in the J-Type Zombie was the smartest move.
“I’ll kill you!”
Hank Huang suddenly whipped out the pistol at his waist.
“Go to hell!”
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
A string of gunshots rang out—Hank Huang didn’t stop until he’d emptied the whole magazine.
But Ian Song just stood there, perfectly fine.
“You... how are you not dead?” Hank Huang stared at the unharmed Ian Song in disbelief, the fear in his eyes growing even stronger.
Everyone else was just as shocked, staring at Ian Song—he hadn’t even moved, so how was he completely unharmed?
Suddenly, Ian Song stretched out a fist.
He opened his hand, revealing dozens of golden bullet heads lying in his palm.
He’d caught the bullets bare-handed—and not just one or two, but dozens at once.
When everyone saw the bullet heads in Ian Song’s hand, they all fell into stunned silence.
“Are you even human or are you some kind of monster?” Hank Huang retreated in horror.
“Take a guess!”
With a cold smile, Ian flicked a bullet head from his palm. It whistled through the air and buried itself right in the center of Hank Huang’s forehead.
After killing Hank Huang, Ian turned to Kevin Zhou and Leo Liao and ordered, “You two, get people to take away their guns and tie them all up!”
“Yes, President!”
What had just happened was absolutely miraculous—even the ordinary survivors and Leo Liao’s group felt Ian Song had become more and more unfathomable.
Night fell like water, and Ian Song was reading a novel by candlelight.
When the apocalypse first hit, the power hadn’t gone out yet. Now, the whole campus was dark. There was a diesel generator, but all the electricity had to go to the cafeteria’s freezer warehouse to keep the frozen meat from spoiling.
Knock knock.
Someone knocked at the door.
"Who is it?"
Ian Song put down his novel and asked.
"Brother Ian, it’s me." Coco Guan’s voice came from outside.
"What’s up?"
Ian Song opened the door and invited Coco Guan inside.
"Brother Ian, the water heater in my room is broken. Can I borrow your bathroom for a bit?" Coco Guan asked shyly.
Hearing that, Ian Song was momentarily surprised, then nodded. "Alright, go ahead."
As Coco Guan went into the bathroom, Ian Song started to think.
Why didn’t this girl just borrow Helen Guo’s bathroom instead of coming to mine? Could it be that she really wants to offer herself this time?
Thinking that, Ian Song’s heart started burning with excitement again.
Still, he didn’t barge into the bathroom—he waited, curious to see what Coco Guan would do next.
"Brother Ian, I forgot to bring a towel again. Can you lend me one?" Coco Guan’s voice came from the bathroom, trembling a little.
"Hang on, I’ll get you one right now!"
Ian Song smiled—he was almost certain this time Coco Guan really meant to offer herself.
Soon, Ian Song walked up to the bathroom door. "Coco, here’s your towel."
The bathroom door opened, and a wave of steam rolled out. There was only a single candle lit inside, making everything hazy, but Ian Song could still see Coco Guan’s body clearly. For a moment, his breathing grew rapid.
"Brother Ian, I’m scared. Can you come in and stay with me?" Coco Guan didn’t reach for the towel, but looked at Ian Song with hopeful eyes.
"Sure!"
Ian Song walked into the bathroom with the towel, then closed the door behind him. Looking at Coco Guan’s fair, delicate skin, the fire in his heart burned even hotter.
"Brother Ian, do I look pretty?"
Coco Guan pressed herself close to him.
She’d already gone this far—if he pretended to be pure now, he’d just be acting. So Ian Song reached out and wrapped an arm around Coco Guan’s slender waist...