Chapter 45: The Dark Night Demon King, All Guts and No Fear
After chatting with Wen Lei, Ren Zhong found himself thinking about his own situation as well.
Wen Lei’s path to Level Two was arduous.
His own circumstances were different.
He didn’t know the exact number for his brain-machine synchronization rate, but it was certainly not low.
Today, his carrying power had reached 20.5 kilowatts.
His brain response index now stood at 51.4.
His physical fitness index was at 26.7.
In truth, he was further from Level Two than Wen Lei—the shortcoming lay in carrying power and physical fitness.
He wasn’t anxious, for he made noticeable progress every day.
If he kept fighting day by day, eventually it would all fall into place.
Yet, though he never voiced it, he’d wondered—what if, seven days from now, he passed the Level Two title assessment directly?
What would that look like?
With that thought lingering, he quietly connected his exoskeleton suit’s controller through his wristwatch, increasing the bioelectric stimulation that promoted carrying power growth by a notch.
A fierce tingling surged through him; his lips twitched, but he forced himself to focus on his tablet.
He could bear it.
The most despairing thing in this world is when someone more talented than you works even harder.
After eight o’clock that evening, Ren Zhong stepped out, riding his motorcycle to the armaments mall and purchasing a basic Level One Disassembler’s glove for forty contribution points. It was inferior to Ju Qingmeng’s modified version, but should suffice.
As for a chip storage box, Chen Hanyu happened to have an old, discarded one she’d kept as a spare.
Ren Zhong shamelessly asked to borrow it.
Chen Hanyu, though surprised, allowed him to take it without payment.
...
At half past nine that night, at the staircase of Sleep Pod Thirteen, Ren Zhong descended punctually and met the spirited young man who had repaired his room.
The youth’s clothes were tattered, sweat still glistening on his brow.
The night lamp spilled light across his face, reflecting an oily sheen.
He looked utterly exhausted, but a foolish, happy grin spread across his face.
“All finished?”
“Mm!” The young man bowed slightly, drew the key from his pocket, and handed it to Ren Zhong with both hands, reverently.
Ren Zhong took the key, damp with sweat and dust, and patted the youth’s shoulder. “Good job. Keep fighting to live.”
“Mm! Brother, I’m going to my mother’s now, okay?”
“Go on, it’s late.”
Ren Zhong returned to his room, greeting Zheng Tian and the others.
He casually offered an excuse. “You’ll sleep here tonight. I have something to do, so I won’t be back. See you at the cafeteria at six-thirty tomorrow.”
Zheng Tian was first surprised, then somewhat forward, asking instinctively, “Ren, where are you going?”
“Going to a friend’s house.”
“Oh!” Zheng Tian exclaimed.
“Ah...” Chen Hanyu murmured.
“Well! Brother Ren, you’ve got something going on, huh!” Ou Youning, who’d been eavesdropping, suddenly chimed in, whistling playfully.
Everyone thought, Brother Ren has hidden it so long—finally, the ‘Census Officer’ is showing his hand.
Ren Zhong didn’t understand why everyone suddenly became ambiguous and excited. “What?”
Zheng Tian smiled meaningfully. “Normally, even if you told us you were staying in the mayor’s guest room, we wouldn’t be surprised. But you said you’re going to a friend’s house. These days, letting someone stay overnight at your home is no ordinary friendship. Brother Ren, you seem normal, so it must be an opposite-sex friend. Not staying in the communal sleep pod, safe house—must be a citizen’s villa. Let me guess... Manager Ju?”
Zheng Tian left something unsaid.
Normally, a female citizen would never let a male wastelander into her villa.
So, Ren Zhong’s identity as a Census Officer was confirmed.
He exposed himself; it wasn’t our questioning.
On this timeline, Zheng Tian hadn’t yet heard from Captain Lin Wang that Census Officers had to be at least Level Five citizens.
Once a mistaken first impression is formed, it’s hard to change.
If she learned the truth, she’d be dumbfounded.
Even Mayor Madafu, who holds the power of life and death over twenty thousand wastelanders, is only a Level Four citizen.
The gap between Level Four and Five is enormous.
Wen Lei, that fool, chimed in, “Of course! You haven’t seen the way Manager Ju looks at Brother Ren, tsk tsk...”
Ren Zhong finally realized what these people were imagining.
He was baffled by their wild speculation.
But he couldn’t explain, so let them guess.
Ha! They think I’m off to enjoy a villa life, but little do they know I’m heading into the wild to forge a new existence.
A bunch of ordinary folk!
At last, Ren Zhong waved them off. “Alright, I’ll be leaving then.”
He had to rush out the town gate before nine fifty-five.
His investigation showed that at nine fifty-five, the elite night watch would arrive at the gate.
As for the surveillance from the floating ‘Eye of Sauron’ atop the central lighthouse-shaped building, he had no solution.
He couldn’t avoid it—if he was seen, then so be it.
If he truly was exposed and hunted, he'd be more careful next time, adjust his strategy.
But he thought the chance was slim.
Ten o’clock was merely the usual sleep time; real enforced sleep came at midnight.
Before midnight, people could still come and go, though rarely.
Wastelanders’ fear of darkness was just an instinct for self-preservation.
He first went to the squad’s courtyard in the north of town, unlocked the gate, rode his motorcycle, and glanced at his own house.
Compared to the other shanties on the street, built in the Mumbai slum style, Ren Zhong’s five-by-five-meter two-story alloy house was a work of art.
It was the real mansion of the slums—a dream home for countless wastelanders, though it cost only 13.3 credits.
Thanks to the central ‘Eye of Sauron’ surveillance and the town’s tough folk, everyone knew that those who spent money to build such a house weren’t ordinary people—their fists were hard. So while the youth built it, no one dared cause trouble or steal.
But kids didn’t understand this, so the lower meter of the exterior wall was covered with graffiti—charcoal, spray paint, and more.
There were pig heads, fish, and other animals.
The best section depicted blue mountains and a blue sun rising halfway above the peaks.
The artist seemed to cherish this high-grade ‘canvas,’ working with care.
Rolling blue hills, a huge blue sun, drifting green clouds, all adorned with lines and proper shading.
Ren Zhong wasn’t sure if it was a sunrise or sunset.
...
At nine fifty, Ren Zhong’s electric motorcycle silently passed through the town gate and plunged into the not-so-deep darkness.
The bike sped along at 110 kilometers per hour over rough earth tracks trodden by countless feet.
Looking ahead, he saw two semi-circular moons casting silver-blue light over the land.
Ren Zhong, traveling alone, drew a deep breath.
This was the night that wastelanders feared like the plague.
But he did not believe in such superstitions.
The first landmark separating humans from animals, the first essential step in civilization, was mastering fire!
The first use of fire was not for food, but to conquer the night!
Suddenly, he turned sharply, following a route he remembered, heading for the Iron Worm Woods.
A moment later, the simple map display on his motorcycle’s dashboard beeped—the low-power sensor’s alert.
Here it comes.
Ren Zhong gently bent his right arm, reaching behind his head to grip the alloy combat blade slung across his back.
Three hundred and fifty meters ahead—a Level One Ruin Beast, a Springing Locust!
Die!
...
At quarter to six in the morning, the distant sky glowed pale.
Across the wilderness, a cloud of dust roared from afar.
It was Ren Zhong, weary after a night of hard battle.
His armor was covered in scratches.
Some were just chipped paint, others gouged deep.
His helmet visor bore spiderweb cracks.
Traveling alone was far riskier than working with a squad—the ability to withstand dangers was much lower.
Especially at night, when Ruin Beasts had the advantage of sight.
Yet Ren Zhong endured it all.
On the back seat, inside the secondhand storage box Chen Hanyu had given him, were twenty-three Level One Ruin Beast chips, valued at forty-two points. After subtracting three points for equipment repair and energy, his net profit for the night was thirty-nine.
He had cleared out all the Level One Ruin Beasts on the routes to Iron Worm Woods, inside the woods, and on the road to Mouse Cliff Mountain, even expanding his search area.
Sadly, he couldn’t break through the Ruin Beast blockade before Mouse Cliff Mountain—otherwise, the mountain at night would be a true treasure trove.
He also only had a motorcycle, unable to carry corpses, so he followed the wasteful practice of the professional squads, leaving the bodies and taking only the valuable chips.
Besides, Ren Zhong gained other implicit rewards.
He now understood the terrain and Ruin Beast distribution around Spark Town, Iron Worm Woods, and Mouse Cliff Mountain even better.
He’d repeatedly dodged Level Two and even Level Three Ruin Beast territories, and faced danger more than once.
He walked the knife’s edge at every moment.
But, in the end, he survived.
...
At six-thirty in the morning, Ren Zhong, sleepless and fully equipped, met Zheng Tian and the rest of the squad.
Everyone was astonished at Ren Zhong’s battle-worn appearance.
Ren Zhong made up a story, saying he’d sparred intensely with a friend the night before.
Everyone understood.
As expected of a citizen—sparring so hard that his gear was damaged, truly extravagant, truly fierce.
After some discussion, Zheng Tian suggested delaying departure by an hour and a half, so Wen Lei could repair Ren Zhong’s equipment.
Ren Zhong was glad; it gave him an excuse to use his wristwatch to look up information online, intending to find a room in the courtyard to rest.
He had just removed his helmet when Zheng Tian noticed the faint circles around his eyes—dark rings.
Dark circles were rare in this era.
Zheng Tian was shocked, approaching with genuine concern. “Brother Ren, life is good, but you must take care of your health!”
On this timeline, Ren Zhong never gave Zheng Tian the chance to help him bathe.
So Zheng Tian had never been refused, and after the recent misunderstandings, her tone grew even more uninhibited.
Ren Zhong: “...”
In the end, he lay down pretending to browse the net, but didn’t activate sleep mode—he simply fell asleep.
At eight o’clock, Ren Zhong forced himself up and joined the squad for another day of hunting.
Was he tired?
A little.
But he knew his own condition well—with a physical fitness index over twenty-seven, he could certainly handle moderate overload.
Besides, in research, who doesn’t grind themselves to the bone?
If you haven’t pulled three to five all-nighters in a row, you can’t claim to be truly technical.
[PS: Super chapter of 3300 words, asking for monthly and recommendation votes]