Chapter 93: Chen Ye, I’m Going to Fk Your Grandmother!

Chu Che hated variables. And being hunted by a high-level Anomaly was the worst variable of all.

“Accelerate!”

The moment the command left his lips, the modified SUV surged forward, its engine roaring as it kicked up a massive cloud of dust.

In the vehicle behind him, Sun Qianqian was engrossed in her handheld game console.

“Cousin, Captain Chu is speeding up!” the little girl in the driver’s seat called out, straining her neck to see over the dashboard.

Sun Qianqian dropped her game. She glanced at the lead vehicle, then twisted around to look at the rear of the convoy. Her brows furrowed.

If only we had walkie-talkies, she thought.

She knew Chu Che. He was a man of calculation; he wouldn’t burn fuel like this without a damn good reason. But this speed… the rear guard wouldn’t be able to keep up.

Especially the camel teams.

Camels, no matter how sturdy, couldn’t match the speed of a combustion engine on flat sand.

Sun Qianqian hesitated for only a second. “Follow him! Floor it!”

As for the camels?

In every convoy, someone has to be the gecko’s tail—sacrificed so the body can survive.

“Old Wu, Qianqian and the Captain are bolting.”

In the yellow school bus, Old Li, the bald driver, frowned as he watched the dust clouds ahead.

Beside him sat Iron Lion, a veritable mountain of flesh. The giant lowered his head to peer through the windshield. The second wound on his neck had already sealed, and a small, pink bud of flesh was sprouting from the scar tissue.

Even sitting still, his presence was suffocating.

Ding Dong, seated behind Iron Lion, glanced nervously at the rear. “The Pathfinder doesn’t panic for no reason. Something is coming. Should we follow?”

Despite her plain appearance, this woman held onto a stubborn sense of justice. It was why she had never truly fit in with Mo Huairen’s cruel inner circle. But she also knew her place; she deferred to Iron Lion.

“Follow them,” Iron Lion rumbled.

Three vehicles accelerated in unison.

Chen Ye didn’t hesitate either. He slammed the accelerator to the floor.

VROOOM!

The Doomsday Pickup let out a furious roar, shaking violently as it surged to keep pace with the lead trio.

The sudden burst of speed alerted the rest of the convoy. Panic is contagious. Within seconds, every engine was revving, and the entire motorcade began to race across the dunes.

No one asked why.

Anyone who had survived this long wasn’t an idiot. In the apocalypse, you followed the strong, or you died.

From a distance, the convoy looked like a beast tearing through the desert, dragging a massive sandstorm in its wake.

For Chen Ye, who had no windshield, this was torture.

The sand kicked up by the vehicles ahead blasted into his cabin. Within seconds, he was coated in a layer of gray grit.

“Damn it.”

He yanked the steering wheel, pulling out of the convoy’s line to drive parallel to them.

Previously, he had followed their tracks to avoid quicksand traps. But now, visibility was priority one.

As he pulled alongside, the sandblast ceased, and he finally got a clear view.

The vehicles were pulling away.

The camels, however, were in trouble.

A camel’s cruising speed was maybe 10 kilometers per hour. Even at a full sprint, they could only hold a high pace for a few minutes.

They had just looted all these animals and survivors. Today, it seemed, they would all become fodder for whatever Anomaly was chasing them.

It was a waste. Forget the people—those camels were prime meat. Fresh meat in the desert was a luxury worth killing for.

But then, Chen Ye noticed something strange.

The camels weren’t falling behind as fast as they should have. They were sprinting, their gait unnatural, keeping a steady, rapid pace behind the Doomsday Pickup.

A Herder Sequence, Chen Ye realized.

The camel caravan had possessed a Beyonder from the Herder Sequence. These types were weak in direct combat but possessed terrifying buffs for the creatures under their command. If they were just ordinary camels, Mo Huairen’s group would have died on the road weeks ago.

Before the apocalypse, a power like that would have stunned the scientific world. Now, it was just another survival tool.

Several unladen camels broke away from the pack, sprinting with desperate speed.

Ding!

[System Deduction Complete…]

A prompt flashed before Chen Ye’s eyes. It was the cultivation method for his smoke ability he had queued up earlier.

Before he could check it—

BANG!

A violent impact shook the chassis.

The world spun. Chen Ye didn’t even have time to read the notification before he lost control.

He slammed on the brakes, but the pickup veered sharply to the right, smashing directly into the flimsy “Elderly Mobility Scooter” driving beside him.

The tiny cabin scooter crumpled like a tin can.

The Doomsday Pickup hit a submerged boulder, tilted, and rolled.

Crunch.

The truck flipped onto its side, four wheels spinning helplessly in the air.

Chen Ye kicked the door open and crawled out, coughing, his hair and face plastered with sand. He looked at the wreckage. The Elderly Mobility Scooter had been flattened by his reinforced bumper.

“You… You…”

A frail, trembling figure crawled out of the crushed scooter.

The old man.

Whenever this old man had seen Chen Ye before, he had worn a mask of ingratiating smiles, bowing and scraping like a harmless grandfather.

But now? That mask was shattered.

The old man’s face was a mask of venomous hatred. His eyes were dark pools of malice, completely ignoring the fact that Chen Ye was a Sequence Beyonder.

Or perhaps… he never cared about Chen Ye’s status to begin with. The fear had been an act.

“Ptooey! Ptooey!”

Chen Ye spat out a mouthful of grit. He didn’t have time to psychoanalyze the old geezer.

Thud, thud, thud.

Camels thundered past them, their eyes rolling in terror, white foam dripping from their mouths. They were running from something unimaginable.

A crushing pressure descended on Chen Ye’s heart.

He knew this feeling. He had felt it a few times before.

Anomaly.

He looked back.

Far in the distance, the desert floor exploded.

A colossal, headless shape rose from the dunes.

It was a Sand Snake—but the scale was wrong. It was titanic. It towered ten stories high, casting a shadow that swallowed the dunes whole, and that was just the part above ground.

Even from kilometers away, the sheer killing intent made Chen Ye’s blood run cold.

He stared, dumbfounded. This wasn’t just an Anomaly. This was a calamity. It was the largest monster he had ever seen.

And it was fast.

In the blink of an eye, the massive silhouette grew larger in his vision.

Run.

The thought screamed in his mind.

But running on foot was suicide.

Chen Ye spun around, rushing to the overturned pickup.

System Check: Chassis intact. Engine functional. Drive train operational.

Thank you, System!

The truck was built like a tank. It could still run!

But there was a problem. The truck was heavily overloaded with supplies and lying on its side. Righting it alone would take precious seconds he didn’t have.

“Hey! Are you just going to stand there and die?!” Chen Ye roared at the old man. “Get over here and help!”

The old man was staring at him with pure murder in his eyes. His killing intent was no longer concealed—it radiated off him in waves.

But then the old man glanced at the approaching titan. A flicker of deep fear crossed his face.

Gritting his teeth, the old man ran over.

Righting a fully loaded, armored pickup in soft sand was a task for heavy machinery.

But neither Chen Ye nor this mysterious old man were ordinary humans.

“On three! One, two, HEAVE!”

Muscles bulged. Veins popped. With a synchronized roar, the two Beyonders exerted force that would shame a forklift.

BOOM.

The Doomsday Pickup slammed back onto its wheels.

Chen Ye didn’t waste a millisecond. He vaulted into the driver’s seat.

Ignition. Gear.

VROOOM!

The engine roared to life. Chen Ye silently thanked the System again.

A cigarette appeared in his mouth, though he didn’t remember lighting it. Smoke filled the cabin.

“What the hell are you waiting for? Get in!” Chen Ye shouted through the open door.

The old man froze. He clearly hadn’t expected Chen Ye to wait for him.

The murderous look in his eyes softened slightly as he scrambled into the passenger side.

The headless snake was closing in. Its speed was terrifying. Every time it dove into the sand and resurfaced, it cut the distance by half.

It had seen them. It altered its course, charging straight for the lone vehicle.

Chen Ye slammed the gas.

The engine screamed… but the truck didn’t move.

The wheels spun, digging deeper into the soft sand.

Sand trap.

Chen Ye cursed. “You! Get out and push! Now!”

The old man exploded. “Me? Why not you?!”

“If I push, who drives?! Hurry up, it’s coming!”

The old man glanced at the rearview mirror. The behemoth was looming large.

He swallowed his rage. Any goodwill he had just felt for Chen Ye evaporated, but logic prevailed. He kicked the door open and jumped out.

Chen Ye didn’t see what the old man did, but he felt the rear of the truck lift slightly.

GRIP.

The tires caught traction. The truck lurched forward.

“Old man! Get in!” Chen Ye yelled.

The vehicle was moving now.

The old man was stunned again. This kid… he’s a bastard, but he’s actually waiting for me?

The old man moved with blinding speed, throwing himself into the moving cab.

The passenger door, already damaged by the crash, finally gave up the ghost and fell off, tumbling into the sand.

Great. Now the Doomsday Pickup was even more ventilated.

“Hold on!”

Chen Ye floored it.

First gear. Second gear.

He skipped third and fourth, slamming directly into fifth.

Under his frantic inputs, the Doomsday Pickup unleashed every ounce of horsepower it had. It flew across the dunes, engines screaming in protest.

But the Headless Sand Snake was relentless. It clung to their tail, the distance shrinking with every second.

“MOOOoooo…”

A sound echoed through the air—like a cow’s lowing, but amplified a thousand times, deep enough to rattle bones.

Chen Ye glanced at the mirror.

Cold sweat drenched his back.

A massive shadow had engulfed the truck.

The headless snake reared up, its “neck” splitting open to reveal a gaping maw lined with thousands of razor-sharp teeth.

And eyes.

Countless, tiny, blinking eyes covered the creature’s skin, a nightmare of trypophobia that made Chen Ye’s scalp tingle.

One more second. That was all it would take for them to be swallowed whole.

Chen Ye’s expression went cold.

A giant hand made of gray smoke materialized inside the cabin.

It grabbed the terrified old man by the collar.

“What—?”

Before the old man could process what was happening, the smoke hand ripped him out of the passenger seat and flung him backwards—straight into the maw of the pursuing monster.

The old man tumbled through the air, watching the rows of teeth expand to fill his vision.

In that split second, he understood.

He had thought the kid had a conscience. He thought the kid waited for him out of loyalty.

Wrong.

“CHEN YE! I’M GOING TO FK YOUR GRANDMOTHER!—”