Rebirth as a Demonic Cultivator: Starting with a Zombie Planet

Chapter 20: I Get the Idea, Just Don’t Puke on Me

The third floor of the building was swallowed in gloom.

Wang Yong stepped into the dim room. A slender woman sat rigidly in a corner chair, trembling like a leaf. Beside her, a dark-skinned man with a sharp buzz cut sat glued to a screen, a controller gripped tightly in his hands.

The monitor bathed his face in the flickering, grim light of a dark fantasy world. A heavily armored warrior, hefting a massive shield and a broadsword, was locked in a brutal duel with a towering, flame-wreathed Giant King.

On a secondary screen nearby, a hardcore pornographic video played on a loop.

The explicit moans Wang Yong had heard from the stairwell were blaring from its speakers. He didn’t even blink; he was entirely used to this bizarre setup. The rest of the base thought his cousin, Wang Gangjian, was up here ruthlessly plowing through women. In reality, he was just grinding boss fights.

Wang Gangjian blasted the audio for one simple reason: plausible deniability. As the boss of the Black Vanguard Security Company, he had several hundred hardened survivors looking up to him. If his subordinates found out their ruthless leader was hiding in his room playing video games, his fearsome reputation would crumble.

But the man was an addict. So, he orchestrated this elaborate theater every time he wanted to play. He’d drag a terrified woman up to the third floor, crank up the adult videos to fake a marathon session, and use the moans to drown out the frantic clicking of his controller.

A digitized death scream suddenly echoed from the main monitor.

Wang Gangjian sighed, dropping the controller in defeat. “This Giant is a nightmare,” he muttered, finally turning to his cousin. “Spit it out. What’s the situation?”

Wang Yong quickly delivered a meticulous report of the carnage he’d witnessed at the unfinished construction site, leaving no gruesome detail unspared.

Wang Gangjian’s initial nonchalance melted away, replaced by a heavy, grim scowl.

“An Advanced Zombie. It has to be.” Wang Gangjian said, his tone dead serious. “What did Old Zheng from the research institute have to say about it?”

Wang Yong shook his head. “Nothing useful. I pressed them hard on who exactly saved their asses, but they kept dodging the question.”

Wang Gangjian let out a heavy sigh. “Donghu City is going to hell. These Advanced Zombies are popping up one after another.” He rubbed his temples. “Just the other day, Zhao Hong sent word that one spawned over by the Xiaorunfa Mall in his territory. Said it vanished without a trace shortly after.”

“What’s our play?” Wang Yong asked.

Wang Gangjian shot him a withering glare. “What do you think? Double the patrols and quarantine that entire sector. Nobody goes near it.” He paused, calculating. “And draft a request to the Linjiang Army for reinforcements. We operate under their banner. If Donghu City is suddenly crawling with Advanced Zombies, they need to pay up and provide support.”

Wang Yong grinned. “Always thinking ahead, Boss.”

Wang Gangjian reached for his controller but paused, a thought striking him. “Actually, your timing is perfect. Zhao Hong just put in an order for a shipment of canned goods and medical supplies. Grab a crew and run it over to him.”

Wang Yong blinked, confused. “Huh? Hasn’t he been bitching about our prices for weeks? Why cave now?”

“The Spirit Dog Gang has always bled through medical supplies,” Wang Gangjian said dismissively. “They were just playing hardball because they still had a small stockpile left. Now that they’ve scraped the bottom of the barrel, they have no choice but to grit their teeth and pay our premium.”

Wang Yong chuckled, a sly smirk on his face. “Makes sense. I’ll get the boys together and run the cargo over now.”

“Yeah, yeah, get out of here,” Wang Gangjian muttered, waving him off without taking his eyes off the screen as he dove back into his digital torment.

***

Twenty minutes later, Wang Yong and two burly subordinates piled into a battered Wuling minivan and rumbled toward the Spirit Dog Gang’s headquarters: the Haotai Hotel.

While the gang controlled several outposts—including a massive greenhouse complex to the north and a small fishery to the south for food production—the hotel was their undisputed nerve center. Because Donghu City was relatively small and resources hadn’t completely dried up yet, the Spirit Dog Gang and the Black Vanguard Security Company maintained a tense but peaceful coexistence. There was no need for a bloody turf war when there was still meat on the bone.

An hour later, the minivan pulled up to the front steps of the Haotai Hotel.

The engine idled. The thug in the passenger seat reached for the door handle, but Wang Yong’s hand clamped down on his wrist like a vice.

“Hold it. Something’s wrong. It’s too quiet.” Wang Yong’s eyes darted across the empty courtyard, his instincts screaming at him. “The Spirit Dog Gang is never this dead.”

It was broad daylight. Usually, the gang’s lackeys would be loitering in the courtyard in groups of three or four, smoking, playing cards, or beating the crap out of each other. Every previous delivery had been accompanied by a cacophony of shouting and vulgar curses echoing from the lobby.

Today, there was nothing. Just a suffocating, graveyard silence. It was as if every living soul had simply vanished.

“Keep your eyes peeled,” Wang Yong hissed.

The two men nodded, nervously craning their necks to scan the perimeter. Suddenly, the driver gasped, pointing a trembling finger toward the entrance. “Brother Yong… there’s a body over there. It’s… it’s torn apart!”

Wang Yong followed his gaze. Calling it a ‘corpse’ was a generous overstatement. It was a butchered mess—nothing more than a severed forearm and a mangled calf lying in a pool of congealed blood.

“Drive. Get us the fuck out of here!” Wang Yong roared, the color draining from his face.

The scattered gore meant only one thing: the Haotai Hotel had been breached. Whether it was a horde of Zombies or a rival faction, the attackers were overwhelmingly powerful. Zhao Hong was a Level 1 Esper, a genuine Awakened One. If an enemy could wipe out his entire headquarters and make a man like him vanish without a trace, they were dealing with monsters far beyond their paygrade.

Their only option was immediate retreat.

*Screech!*

The minivan’s tires smoked against the asphalt as the driver slammed it into reverse, whipping the vehicle around and tearing down the street.

But they didn’t make it far.

Shadows loomed on the rooftop of a low-rise building dead ahead. Wang Yong peered through the cracked windshield, his breath catching in his throat. Two figures stood on the edge of the roof, as massive and imposing as iron towers.

They were mountains of rotting muscle. Even from a distance, their sheer density made it look as though their every step could fracture the concrete. Their faces were twisted into masks of feral, bloodthirsty rage. They looked like Zombies, but the aura of suffocating pressure radiating from them was entirely different.

And flanking these two behemoths were two monstrous hounds.

Wang Yong recognized those mutated beasts instantly. They were Dahuang and Erhuang—Zhao Hong’s prized, flesh-eating guard dogs.

*Advanced Zombies!* And there were two of them! Zhao Hong’s loyal hounds hadn’t just survived; they had submitted to the apex predators that slaughtered their master!

Wang Yong’s heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. “Floor it! Ram through if you have to! Do not stop!” he shrieked.

The driver, pale as a sheet, stomped the accelerator through the floorboards, looking as though he wanted to crawl into the engine block and spin the axles himself.

On the rooftop, Xiao Bao’s dead eyes locked onto the fleeing vehicle. The faint, intoxicating scent of living flesh wafted through the air, igniting its primal, bloodthirsty instincts. It bared its jagged fangs, muscles coiling like steel springs, ready to launch itself off the roof. Dahuang and Erhuang mirrored the motion, their aggressive snarls vibrating through the air.

*”Grrr…”*

A low, rumbling growl vibrated from Xiao Hu’s throat. The sound was laced with an overwhelming, absolute authority. It was a command.

Instantly, the killing intent in the air shattered. Xiao Bao, Dahuang, and Erhuang immediately lowered their heads, their vicious snarls dissolving into submissive, almost aggrieved whimpers.

*Vroom!*

The minivan blew past the building, tearing down the ruined street under the cold, unblinking gaze of the two towering corpses and their monstrous hounds.

Inside the van, panic reigned.

“Are they behind us?! Are they chasing us?! I can push the engine harder!” the driver screamed, his eyes glued to the rearview mirror.

“Hrk… no… *blegh*…” Wang Yong dry-heaved, violently emptying the contents of his stomach all over the floorboards before weakly slumping back into his seat. “You really need to… *urgh*… work on your driving skills…”

The driver offered a strained, apologetic grimace.

Wiping his mouth, Wang Yong risked a glance out the back window. The four monstrous figures had already turned away, leaping across the rooftops with terrifying speed as they headed back toward the Haotai Hotel. In the blink of an eye, they vanished into the shadows of the compound.

The horrifying reality finally clicked into place in Wang Yong’s mind.

The Spirit Dog Gang hadn’t just been attacked; they had been systematically exterminated. Zhao Hong was dead. The Haotai Hotel and its surrounding territory now belonged to those two Advanced Zombies.

“Get us back to base! We have to warn the Boss right now! *Hrk…*” Wang Yong gagged, clutching his stomach.

“Alright, alright, I get the idea! Just don’t puke on me!” the driver yelled, keeping his foot pinned to the gas.