139: Chapter 139 The Shelter on the Verge of Fall

Before Shi Lei and the others could react, Song Yang had already stepped onto his flight skateboard and soared into the sky.

The wind whistled in his ears, and the ruins of the city flew backward beneath his feet.

A moment later, the familiar steel gate of the Shelter came into view.

In front of the gate, several guard corpses lay scattered in twisted positions.

The expressions on their faces were frozen at the moment of death; they never understood, even until the end, why the comrades they fought alongside every day would suddenly draw their blades and slash their throats.

Song Yang stepped through the gate.

As soon as he entered, several figures surrounded him from both sides of the corridor.

They wore the same uniforms as the fallen guards and held standard-issue weapons in their hands, yet their eyes were hollow and devoid of spirit, like puppets whose souls had been extracted.

Clearly, Du Yaohua had used a "mysterious object" to turn these soldiers into puppets under his control.

Song Yang swung his blade, piercing their hearts.

He did not stop, continuing to advance deeper into the Shelter.

Along the way, controlled guards constantly poured out from every corner, attempting to block his path.

...

Meanwhile, deep inside the Shelter, on top of a detached two-story building.

Du Yaohua stood with his hands behind his back, looking down at everything in front of him from a high vantage point.

Over a thousand Shelter residents, like a driven flock of sheep, were surging toward the administrative building where the Old Director was making his final stand.

Beside him, a brawny man with a scar on his face smiled obsequiously:

"Director, you are brilliant! Does that old geezer think he's safe just by hiding in there? Once they've been worn down enough, we can easily take him!"

"That old geezer holds most of the armed forces in the Shelter. Unfortunately, he is too stupid. Now, his elite subordinates have all been lured away, and inside this Shelter, there are only some old, weak, sick, and disabled people left, along with these fools I control."

"Director, that old guy never imagined you had already shed your skin like a cicada, and even had your strength skyrocket, quietly returning here!"

"Hmph, a bunch of idiots, thinking they can keep an eye on me by planting a mole?"

Du Yaohua sneered, "That old guy doesn't even know that everything the mole reports to him every day is exactly what I want him to know."

In the distance, toward the administrative building, flames soared into the sky, and gunfire was dense.

"The old geezer's personal guard unit is still a bit troublesome. Pass the order down: the first person to break in will be appointed as the Deputy Director."

"Once this matter is resolved, we will deal with that Song Yang. I want him to wish for death but be unable to die!"

Du Yaohua was incredibly expectant; he had truly waited too long for this day.

"Director, that Song Yang is said to be quite strong. What if he comes back to disrupt things at this time?"

The Scarface Man asked cautiously.

Du Yaohua seemed to have heard a joke and showed an expression of disdain:

"You overestimate him and underestimate me."

He turned his head and cast his gaze behind him.

There, five figures were curled up on the ground, covered in wounds and on the verge of death.

Looking closely, it was Tiger Zhao and the other four whom Song Yang had pulled back from the brink of death when the Rat Tide broke out.

They had clearly suffered inhuman torture, with everyone's skin torn and flesh mangled.

Du Yaohua squatted down, grabbed Tiger Zhao by the hair, lifted his bloodied and mangled face, and forced him to look him in the eye:

"I heard that Song Yang saved you, and you are grateful to him?"

Tiger Zhao's eyelids struggled to open a slit, his breathing weak.

"As long as you say now that Song Yang deserves a terrible death and curse him to die without a whole corpse, I will consider sparing your dog lives. How about it?"

Scarface and the other subordinates gloated, watching the captives with great interest.

Tiger Zhao took a difficult breath, seemingly using all his strength, and said word by word:

"If it weren't for him back then, we would have died in the Rat Tide long ago! Let alone living a few stable days in the Shelter. We are people with dignity, unlike an animal like you!"

"Dignity?"

The smile on Du Yaohua's face instantly vanished, and his eyes became sinister.

"Very good, I like people with stiff mouths. I will spare your lives and let you see with your own eyes the scene where I grind his bones and scatter his ashes!"

Tiger Zhao looked at Du Yaohua's calm and indifferent posture, feeling immense despair in his heart.

He didn't understand why the person in front of him could be so powerful that it was terrifying.

He had seen Brother Song Yang's strength with his own eyes.

However, compared to this man in front of him, he still felt that this man was stronger.

At this moment, inside the besieged administrative building, the atmosphere was oppressive to the extreme.

Sweat beads rolled down Thunderstorm's temples. His fingertips traced across the structural map of the Shelter again and again, trying to carve out a path to survival from the crisscrossing lines.

However, every possible path had already been blocked.

"Damn it!"

Thunderstorm cursed.

The Old Director sat dejectedly on a metal chair; his furrowed face was filled with deep exhaustion and helplessness.

He couldn't figure out how Du Yaohua had managed to have his strength skyrocket to such a degree in such a short time.

"Mid-stage Warlord Rank..."

The Old Director muttered to himself, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible, "Twenty-five thousand kilograms of base strength, how on earth did he achieve that?"

"Director, we can't hold on much longer!"

A young security guard stumbled down from the stairwell; his face was stained with blood, and his combat suit had been torn open.

"Those civilians are rushing forward like they've gone mad; our people are almost unable to stop them!"

Thunderstorm raised his head sharply, "Even if we can't hold, we must hold! Use heavy firepower to suppress them! Tell the brothers that those residents have been controlled; do not show pity."

The young security guard shuddered when he was shouted at.

"Captain Thunderstorm, ammunition is running low! And... and they have put the women and children at the very front."

This sentence was like a heavy hammer, smashing fiercely into everyone's hearts.

The Old Director closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, a flash of determination crossed his eyes:

"Pass on my order: all non-combat personnel are to retreat to the backup Shelter room on the third underground floor."

"What about you? Director!" Thunderstorm said anxiously.

"Me?"

The Old Director smiled miserably, his gaze sweeping over the few remaining trusted subordinates in the command room, "I am staying here, I am not going anywhere. This is my command room, and it is also my grave."

"If Du Yaohua wants this Shelter, if he wants my old life, let him come and take it himself!"

"But, Director..."

"Execute the order!" The Old Director interrupted sternly.

Thunderstorm gritted his teeth, still unwilling to give up:

"Director, it's not time to give up yet. The troops sent out are likely on their way back, and Song Yang should also know about what's happening here."

The next moment, the Old Director shook his head with a bitter smile.

"Don't fantasize. Even if Song Yang is strong, he is only late-stage Warrior Rank, with a base strength of just over five thousand kilograms."

"He is absolutely no match for Du Yaohua, who is at the mid-stage Warlord Rank. If he were smart, he should leave this city; coming back to the Shelter is just throwing his life away in vain!"

Hearing this, Thunderstorm also felt a bit of despair.

That's right, Song Yang is not a fool. Coming back at this time to face the immensely powerful Du Yaohua is no different from throwing his life away.

Just as he was thinking this, "BOOM!", a loud noise came, shaking the entire administrative building.

Thunderstorm looked out the window, and in the black smoke billowing in the distance, he actually saw a familiar figure.