Chapter 107: Ruthless and Heartless

If reincarnation existed, Chu Che had only one wish for his next life: to strangle that bastard Chen Ye.

He had been cautious. Extremely cautious. He had specifically scouted a desolate, abandoned location to perform that humiliating ritual required by his technique.

And yet, that bastard had still caught him red-handed.

It wasn’t just Chen Ye, either. The pink-haired girl had seen it too.

Chu Che felt his entire body stiffen. When he slowly turned around, he was met with a mocking grin from Chen Ye and a gaze from the girl that looked at him like he was a perverted, creepy uncle.

Who else could it be but those two?

Back in his tent to rest, Chen Ye noticed the ambient temperature had dropped even lower than the previous night.

Even as a Transcendent, the chill was becoming difficult to bear.

Fortunately, his dedication to the Observing the Blood Moon Breathing Technique over the past few days had yielded results. His overall strength had risen, and his resistance to the cold had improved significantly.

However, looking at the state of the ordinary survivors, he doubted some of them would survive the night.

Stepping outside for a smoke, Chen Ye spotted a figure meditating beside the school bus.

It was Ding Dong.

Her chest rose and fell in a rhythmic cycle. With every exhalation, a stream of white vapor ejected from her nostrils, coiling in the air like a swimming dragon before dissipating.

The woman was a workaholic, though in a different way than the pink-haired girl who obsessed over sword drills. For Ding Dong, meditation was cultivation. Sometimes, she would sit motionless in the desert sands for the entire night.

She claimed she was practicing a specific meditation method. Chen Ye wondered if it followed the same principles as his own breathing technique.

He pinched out the cigarette at his lips, deciding to cut back starting tomorrow. His stockpile was running low.

Chu Che and Iron Lion likely had reserves, but trying to trade with Captain Chu Che right now? After tonight’s fiasco, the man would probably be out for blood. That black-hearted captain would rip him off without mercy.

He would have to approach Iron Lion instead. They had the manpower, but they never had enough food. Chen Ye was alone; his food supply was relatively abundant.

The next morning was no different from any other.

The rising sun began to banish the supernatural chill of the night, and the layer of white frost coating the dunes evaporated at a visible speed.

Chen Ye checked his vehicle. The repairs and upgrades were complete.

The front windshield, previously shattered by the sandstorm, looked pristine—as if it were factory original. The two doors and the modified rearview mirrors fit seamlessly into the frame. Aside from the mismatch in paint color, one couldn’t tell they were aftermarket additions.

In the desert, aesthetics were irrelevant. As long as it ran, it was beautiful.

Taking advantage of the morning lull, Chen Ye retrieved the small electric fan and secured it to the dashboard with a cord. The solar panels now generated enough surplus power to run the fan freely.

He could have integrated the fan directly into the vehicle’s systems, but the system demanded an additional 50 Slaughter Points for the service. To save points, he opted for the low-tech solution.

Manual installation worked just fine. In the apocalypse, practicality reigned supreme. Waste was a sin. Until he could secure a steady income of Slaughter Points, he had to be stingy.

While the camp prepared breakfast, a commotion stirred near the tents.

Two survivors hadn’t emerged.

When Uncle Abao arrived to check on them, he found they had frozen to death during the night.

Uncle Abao simply waved his hand, instructing others to dig a shallow pit in the dunes.

The burial was casual, almost routine. Even the friends of the deceased didn’t seem particularly grief-stricken. In this world, death was the only eternal constant.

After the meal, the convoy prepared to depart.

Xue Nan, the disfigured youth, had already packed Chen Ye’s tent and supplies onto the pickup while Chen Ye ate.

Chen Ye tossed him a piece of camel meat without a word and ignored him.

Xue Nan had become the convoy’s designated pariah. His burned, ruined face made him the “famous ugly man.” Those who had once flocked to him for his good looks now treated him like a leper.

Yet, in Xue Nan’s eyes, Chen Ye was the only decent person left.

It didn’t matter that Chen Ye was cold. It didn’t matter that Chen Ye looked at him like he was an object, or worse—a corpse.

Xue Nan was grateful because Chen Ye’s attitude had never changed.

Before the disfigurement, Chen Ye was cold, indifferent, and heartless. He looked at Xue Nan like a dead man walking.

After the disfigurement? Chen Ye still looked at him like a dead man walking.

There was no pity, but there was also no disgust. Chen Ye viewed all ordinary survivors with the same absolute, democratic indifference. To him, they were all just waiting to die; the only difference was whether it happened today or tomorrow.

The brand-new Doomsday Pickup roared to life.

Externally, it was the same battered, scrap-metal pickup truck. But internally, the beast had been reborn.

As he pulled away, Chen Ye felt the difference instantly. The loose, rattling sensation of the old chassis was gone.

Even on the shifting sands, the sluggishness was replaced by a tight, responsive power. The engine didn’t whine; it growled.

Previously, with the truck bed fully loaded with Supplies, the start-up was a slow, swaying affair. Now, the vehicle surged forward the moment he tapped the accelerator.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, Chen Ye felt an almost supernatural connection to the ground. He could sense the texture of the sand beneath the tires.

It was an intuition usually reserved for veterans with decades of experience, but magnified. He could feel the exact dimensions of the truck—its width, its length, the precise volume it occupied in space during a turn.

“Car Sense.”

This was the effect of the [Driving Mastery] skill.

Chen Ye punched the gas. The pickup shot forward, easily catching up to the school bus.

Iron Lion, sitting in the passenger seat of the bus, stared in confusion.

“That car… did it get taller?”

“No, I’m not seeing things. It definitely got taller.”

In the past, Chen Ye’s battered truck struggled to keep pace with the lead vehicles. Now, it was effortless.

Chen Ye rolled the windows down, his sunglasses reflecting the harsh glare of the desert. He drained the last of his mineral water, capped the empty bottle, and tossed it into the back seat.

With another burst of acceleration, he overtook the bus and pulled alongside Chu Che’s vehicle.

“Captain! Found a water source yet?” Chen Ye shouted over the wind.

Chu Che was hunched over a crude map, occasionally leaning out the window to scan the horizon.

“If you stop bothering me, I might find it faster!” Chu Che snapped back, his voice ragged.

Chen Ye curled his lip, easing off the throttle to let Chu Che take point.

If there was quicksand ahead, better to let the Captain die first.

The situation deteriorated rapidly.

Chu Che studied the rudimentary map obsessively. Every few miles, he would stop the convoy, squat on the ground, and taste the sand.

Each time, the survivors’ eyes would light up with hope, only to dim into disappointment, and finally, sink into numbness.

The desert, once a terrifying novelty, had become a prison of oppression and heat. The convoy had been trapped in this sea of sand for too long.

Survivors began to drop out.

Food and water were finite. Drinking water, in particular, was now more precious than gold.

Chen Ye’s own reserves were depleting rapidly. Despite his strict rationing, the consumption rate was alarming. The desert heat was simply too terrifying to ignore.

“Sir! Mr. Chen! Please, I beg you! Give me a little water… I can’t take it anymore!”

Finally, someone broke.

A man’s knees buckled, and he collapsed in front of Chen Ye, kowtowing frantically. His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing against stone. His forehead struck the scorching sand repeatedly, the grit sticking to his sweat, making him look wretched.

His movements were slow, sluggish from severe dehydration. He looked ready to die at any second.

Over the past few days, people had begged the other Transcendents. Chu Che, Iron Lion, the pink-haired girl, and even Ding Dong had distributed small amounts of water.

Only Chen Ye had not given a single drop.

Desperate, some decided to gamble on his mercy.

Chen Ye stepped around the man without a change in expression.

He had water, yes. But it wasn’t infinite. If he gave it away, he would be the one dying of thirst.

If he opened that door even a crack, the next second, a mob would surround him. They would kneel, they would beg, and eventually, they might even try to rush his vehicle to rob him.

Trade his survival for theirs?

Dream on.

Chen Ye walked two steps away. Behind him, the begging man tilted sideways and collapsed onto the sand, breathing more out than in.

The other survivors watched, their eyes dimming as they witnessed Chen Ye’s cold-blooded nature. Some gazes held hidden resentment.

Chen Ye was right. If he had shown weakness, they would have swarmed him instantly, even those who weren’t yet at death’s door.

“Chen… Chen Ye.”

This time, the person blocking his path was Xu Lina.

The woman looked like a withering flower. Her lips were cracked and bleeding, her hair dry and brittle. Yet, she retained a stubborn, ingrained charm. Her fragility was calculated—a weaponized pitifulness designed to provoke a protective instinct.

Although she was riding on the school bus, Old Li controlled the water there even more strictly than Uncle Abao. Unless you were actively dying, you didn’t get a drop.

“Chen Ye, could you… give me some water?”

Xu Lina squeezed the words out of her parched throat, her eyes brimming with expectation.

It was understandable that Chen Ye refused the stranger. He didn’t know him.

But I am Xu Lina.

Even if we aren’t together, surely you’ve felt my affection? Surely my beauty counts for something?

A little water isn’t too much to ask. Just a sip.

It will work. It has to work. I am Xu Lina. In Chen Ye’s eyes, I must be different from the rabble.

Despite seeing Chen Ye reject the dying man, she stepped forward with confidence. She truly believed she was the exception.

“No.”