IABI -Chapter 122 Humanity’s Counterattack (23)

Chi Xin froze on the spot.

She had assumed that anything capable of dragging Xiao Li into a cult couldn’t possibly be something decent.

But she had never imagined that, judging from what these people were saying, they were actually treating her as… a god?

Clearly, no one else had expected things to take this turn either. They stared dumbfounded as the old woman trembled with excitement at Chi Xin’s feet, her upturned, weathered face twisted into a grotesque, almost feral expression.

“Great God, please listen to our humble yet fervent wishes. Grant them to us. Protect us…”

Perhaps seeing that Chi Xin did not react, the old woman humbly lowered her head again and was about to kowtow.

But her movement was cut short.

A knee rose abruptly, bracing firmly against the old woman’s forehead. No matter how hard she struggled, she could no longer bow down.

Then that knee slowly exerted force, lifting her entire upper body upright.

“Get up and speak,” Chi Xin said.

“N-no, no, I can kneel, I really can,” the old woman stammered. Then, like a starving tiger pouncing on prey, she lunged forward, trying to clutch Chi Xin’s leg.

But if even high-tier zombies could barely brush the hem of Chi Xin’s clothes, how could a frail old woman manage it?

Chi Xin lightly stepped back. The old woman, who had just straightened up, immediately sprawled face-first onto the ground.

“Oh,” Chi Xin said flatly, “are you finished talking now?”

The old woman crawled up in a sorry state, lifting her head. Her gaze toward Chi Xin carried a fervent fanaticism, mixed with a strange hint of accusation.

“Great God, since you pity humanity and have manifested in the mortal world, why would you condescend to wear a human shell? And why do you refuse our offerings?”

“You people—don’t push your luck,” Xiao Li said through clenched teeth.

The old woman ignored him entirely, staring stubbornly at Chi Xin as she raised her voice even louder. “Everyone! This person known as Miss Chi is the true god who will save humanity! Gods truly exist! I never lied! Now the god has truly arrived—look at the resources she has brought, look at her power to hold all things in the palm of her hand! Do you still refuse to acknowledge her as a god?”

Chi Xin’s eyelid twitched.

Sure enough, among the crowd who had originally been hostile toward them, some were now beginning to waver after hearing those words.

“Yeah… leaving other things aside, Miss Chi really does—”

“Ever since she came here, everything has gone smoothly.”

“Wasn’t she already acknowledged as a war god? Maybe she really is…”

People had always held Chi Xin in awe. Now, the looks they cast at her were tinged with an indescribable fear.

When someone is still human, no matter how strong they are, people treat them with respect that still contains a measure of warmth.

But once they are a god—or any other non-human existence—people’s attitudes subtly change.

Rejection is an instinctive response; it has nothing to do with what that being has done.

Amid the myriad gazes, the corners of Chi Xin’s lips curved faintly upward.

Xiao Li looked at her questioningly. She lifted a hand and pressed it down slightly, signaling him to stay calm—she could handle this.

She looked straight at the old woman, and in that gaze, she seemed to glimpse a hidden delight.

“Beating around the bush like this is pretty pointless,” Chi Xin said. “Just tell me directly—what do you want me to do?”

“Our only request is that you accept our offering, my sh—”

“Enough!”

Chi Xin’s voice suddenly rang out, clear and sharp, like spring water crashing heavily against rock.

It wasn’t particularly loud, yet it carried a resonant hum that struck straight from the heart. The old woman and everyone else were startled into silence, staring blankly at her.

“Don’t call me a god. I’m not a god.” Chi Xin’s expression turned cold, her features sharp and icy. “You slap some imaginary title on me, and then you think you can openly demand that I do whatever you imagine? Whether I’m human or a god—since when was it your turn to decide that for me?”

“But God—” the old woman cried anxiously.

“I’ll say it one more time. Shut up.” Chi Xin’s piercing gaze swept over her. The authority and cruelty forged from mountains of corpses and seas of blood burst forth without restraint. Facing Chi Xin’s eyes head-on for the first time, the old woman’s heart convulsed violently, and she instinctively lowered her head, speechless.

The so-called “believers” behind her were equally struck dumb.

Chi Xin pondered for a few seconds, then suddenly smiled. “If I were a god, what exactly would you want to offer me?”

The old woman’s eyes flickered.

If it had been a moment earlier, she would have blurted out her demand without hesitation. But Chi Xin had seized the initiative, exposing her intentions first. To speak now would be to openly admit that Chi Xin had been right.

The old woman’s eyes rolled. She bowed her head humbly again. “Sh—”

Just as she was about to utter that title, Chi Xin’s earlier gaze flashed through her mind. She shivered subconsciously and swallowed the word. “I’ve already said it—we only wish to offer ourselves… to one who is worthy. Other than that, we ask for nothing.”

“Really?” Chi Xin asked.

“Absolutely true,” the old woman said. “With our human bodies, riddled with flaws, what could we possibly do for you? All we can do is offer ourselves to you.”

Chi Xin nodded slowly, looking thoughtful. “So what you mean is, you want to offer yourselves to me, but you don’t actually want to do anything for me. Just flap your lips and talk about offering yourselves, while in reality you still expect me to risk my life for you?”

The old woman hesitated. “P-please… please grant us your protection.”

She bent deeply at the waist.

But almost immediately, she sensed something was wrong.

The gazes around her—some of which had just been faintly approving—had turned subtly mocking.

Before she could think it through, Chi Xin spoke again.

“Everyone heard that, right? What kind of scheme she’s running—it should be obvious to anyone now.” Chi Xin suddenly remembered that this world probably didn’t have the idiom about Sima Zhao, and swallowed the reference halfway.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying. I only want to offer myself to you,” the old woman insisted unwillingly.

“Offer?” Chi Xin cut her off, her voice carrying a cold sneer. “Coming from your mouth, that word is the biggest joke I’ve heard in my entire life. You talk about offering—fine. This is the era that needs offering the most. So tell me: when zombies besieged the city and every resident was on the walls defending you, where were you?”

The old woman’s eyes darted, and she said nothing—confirming Chi Xin’s suspicion.

“And when war broke out, when countless soldiers died on the battlefield and everyone was fighting with their lives to protect our home, where were you then?”

“Well… well, we thought it was God’s will—to cleanse the world, to purge sin,” the old woman argued.

“Oh?” Chi Xin said. “Didn’t you say I’m a god, and you want to offer yourselves to me? Then I say this: in the next battle, you charge at the very front. Let all of you die before any other soldiers step in. Can you do that?”

The old woman was stunned.

“You—you can’t—”

“Why can’t I?” Chi Xin sneered. “Didn’t you keep saying you want to offer yourselves? So many chances to do so, and you never took them. Now I magnanimously give you another opportunity, and suddenly you’re backing out?”

The old woman shut her mouth, her gaze toward Chi Xin now thick with venomous hatred.

She scrambled to her feet and pointed at Chi Xin, shouting, “She is not a merciful god! A god would never cruelly demand her believers sacrifice themselves! She is a messenger sent by the devil—no, she is the devil! She has come to bring calamity upon humanity! Burn her! Burn her so we can gain God’s forgiveness!”

But this time, no one believed her ravings.

“Didn’t follow your script, so you changed the lines on the spot?” Chi Xin showed not the slightest panic. She calmly crossed her arms, looking at them as if watching monkeys perform tricks.

“You’re misleading the masses with heresy!” the old woman panted harshly. Seeing that the ordinary people were no longer buying it, she raised her arms and shouted to her companions, “Quick! Capture this devil! No matter how powerful she is, we can’t let her contaminate humanity’s territory!”

Chi Xin blinked in disbelief.

Then she saw that the people behind the old woman—those who had been brainwashed—actually stood up and rushed toward her.

However, before Chi Xin could even move, the surrounding crowd surged forward, encircling the outnumbered white-robed figures and immediately laying hands on them.

“I’ll beat you to death, you old witch! Scamming the elderly and children is bad enough—how dare you slander Miss Chi!”

“Exactly! How many people committed suicide because of their nonsense about futile resistance and ‘offering’! Beat them! Beat them to death!”

“They’ve been resented for a long time,” Xiao Li explained when he noticed the surprise in Chi Xin’s eyes. “I originally planned to eliminate them before you arrived, but because I was injured… and then things got busy, I forgot about them.”

Chi Xin immediately understood the word Xiao Li had swallowed—Lou Chen.

Her expression remained calm as she listened to him continue. “They always hid themselves well. Finding them took time. Who would’ve thought they’d deliver themselves to our doorstep this time.”

Chi Xin gave a noncommittal “mm” in response.

She stepped forward. “Stop.”

The people who had been fighting fiercely immediately halted when they heard her. They retreated backward, their faces still showing resentment.

By now, the old woman and her group had completely changed—if not for the white robes they were wearing, one might have thought they were an entirely different group of people.

“You never truly believed in any god,” Chi Xin said, bending slightly as she slowly drew closer to the old woman’s horrifying face. “You just wanted to put a shell of ‘god’ on others, then use it to satisfy your own selfish desires. Am I right, ‘believer’?”

The old woman couldn’t utter a single word now. In her eyes, Chi Xin’s beautiful face was far more terrifying than a demon that tempted people into falling.

“Although this was resolved by accident, I still want to say something to everyone,” Chi Xin straightened, determined to choke this matter off completely. “We are all just one of the countless ordinary beings. The reason we’ve gathered here isn’t because some so-called god gave us guidance—it’s because of our courage and our unwillingness to give in.”

“Unwilling to be trampled by zombies, unwilling to hand over our homes, unwilling to see human civilization utterly destroyed! That’s why we’re here—you, and me as well.” Chi Xin took a deep breath. “If there truly is a god in this world, then it’s the countless warriors who sacrificed themselves for us and for our homes. They traded their lives for the breathing space we have now, and for future victory. They are our guardian gods! Not these frauds who play at being divine, who kneel at your feet when it suits them, yet spew empty words and refuse to contribute even a shred of effort—these scum.”

Chi Xin cast a slanted glance at the white-robed people lying on the ground. “People like this don’t deserve to be called human.”

The white-robed figures huddled on the ground, trembling, the gazes of those around them slicing into them inch by inch like a slow execution.

Chi Xin no longer looked at them. She turned to Xiao Li and pointed behind her. “Leave them to you. Make sure this kind of thing never resurfaces.”

Xiao Li answered promptly, and also heard her mutter under her breath, “What a mess this turned into.”

Because of this incident, dinner ended much earlier than planned.

Chi Xin bid farewell to her friends one by one. After wandering around for a bit, she realized that Jing Xiubai hadn’t come at all.

She thought for a moment, then got up and headed toward the administrative building.

The night wind was still stiflingly hot, but Chi Xin wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination—the temperature seemed lower than before.

The world was getting better. Even the weather was.

One day, humanity would regain its freedom, and society would return to normal.

When Chi Xin reached the control room in the administrative building, she wasn’t surprised to see Jing Xiubai’s face, deathly pale in the glow of the monitors amid the darkness.

With a click, she casually turned on the lights.

“You’re back so early?” Jing Xiubai said in surprise. “I thought it would last until at least eleven.”

“Something unexpected happened,” Chi Xin replied.

The moment she arrived here, she felt her whole body and mind relax. It clearly wasn’t her room—there wasn’t even a sofa to rest on—but she just felt at ease here, as if there were nothing she needed to think about.

Maybe it was because the so-called ‘dog strategist’ was here?

Watching Chi Xin casually slide into the chair beside her, Jing Xiubai frowned in concern. “What happened?”

She hadn’t planned to say much, but once he asked, an unexpected urge to confide rose up in her.

“I really never imagined something like this would happen, not even in my dreams,” Chi Xin straightened up, just like when she used to gossip with classmates at school, complaining about teachers and exams. She chattered on to Jing Xiubai, and after finishing, she complained, “Tell me, how could something so disgusting even happen? It’s unbelievable. They’re like rats in the gutter—if I hadn’t been quick-witted, they would’ve jumped out and bitten me.”

As he watched her frowning expression, the gravity on Jing Xiubai’s face gradually eased.

There had never been a moment when the distance between them felt so close.

Not physical distance, but a closeness of unrestrained laughter and anger, of saying whatever one wanted without hiding anything—a complete trust.

“Mm. You’re very quick-witted,” Jing Xiubai said seriously.

Hearing his earnest tone, the previously nonstop Chi Xin suddenly froze.

She lifted her eyes to look at him and suddenly found the tenderness mixed into his seriousness strikingly obvious.

She was left momentarily speechless.

“What I’ve always worried about is exactly this kind of thing,” Jing Xiubai said gently. “That’s why I’ve always told you—you’re human, not a god. When you’re far stronger than ordinary people, they tend to place more expectations and pressure on you. Some of that is what you’re willing to bear, but some of it isn’t necessarily what you want to take on. And when you fail to meet all their wishes, things can spiral out of control.”

“So you’d already thought of this,” Chi Xin scratched her cheek, using the motion to cover her slight awkwardness. “Luckily, most ordinary people weren’t led astray. Those with such ideas didn’t manage to stir up much trouble.”

“That’s because you’re quick-witted,” Jing Xiubai said. “This isn’t praise—it’s simply the truth. If you hadn’t reacted in time and had Xiao Li forcibly deal with them, the result would’ve been a seed planted in the hearts of the crowd, one that might sprout at any unknown moment.”

Chi Xin shuddered, then felt lingering fear. “…Good thing I was quick-witted.”

Chi Xin, who was usually very modest, had praised herself again and again tonight. Clearly, this matter had left her especially exasperated.

Since it was already over, she didn’t dwell on it anymore. She grabbed the edge of the table, dragged her chair closer with herself in it, and looked toward the row of screens. “You stayed here all night and didn’t even go to the banquet. Did you discover anything?”

Noticing Jing Xiubai’s gaze lingering on her face with a faintly inexplicable look, Chi Xin subconsciously turned her head. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Jing Xiubai lowered his eyes. The corners of his lips curved slightly as if smiling, before he quickly continued. “The situation isn’t great. Ah Feng’s side will definitely be slower than Raphael’s main force.”

“That’s something we already considered,” Chi Xin said, her expression turning serious once the discussion shifted to business. She looked again at the dot representing Base A, which was gradually being swallowed by shadows. “We don’t yet know Ah Feng’s exact situation. We can’t put all our chips on them for anything.”

“I understand,” Jing Xiubai said. “This brief peace is only because Raphael didn’t expect his vanguard to be wiped out in less than a day. Once he reacts, the days ahead are probably going to get busy.”

Behind his casual words lurked the aura of an impending war.

Chi Xin’s face was calm. “Let them come. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.”

A single victory didn’t change the atmosphere within the base. All management measures only became stricter than usual—everything was for the sake of preparing for battle.

Under Jing Xiubai’s constant watch, the second wave of zombie hordes arrived.

This time, with the help of the wolf pack and the white ants, the fighting was even less brutal than the first.

Especially the white ant army.

Earlier, Chi Xin had deliberately gone out to take a look. Near the forest outside the base, the white ants had built a nest on flat ground—a gigantic, tower-like structure rising straight from the earth, standing there in all its grandeur.

Yet when the zombie horde arrived, that nest was instantly pushed over in a chaotic rush.

This enraged the white ant army. They charged at the zombies as if avenging a blood feud, sweeping through them like a plague of locusts.

This battle greatly boosted human morale. Before the final decisive fight even arrived, there was no need for Chi Xin to make extensive mobilization—every soldier was brimming with hope for the future.

“That’s a good thing,” Chi Xin said. “As long as they don’t grow overly arrogant and careless on the battlefield, high spirits are better than despair and anxiety.”

“They definitely won’t,” the leaders of each base assured her. “Please rest assured, Sister Chi. We’ll keep them strictly in line and won’t drag you down on the battlefield.”

Time passed quickly. As the distance shown on the satellite images grew shorter and shorter, Chi Xin’s nerves tightened day by day.

That night, not long after Chi Xin fell asleep, a long, piercing siren sounded outside the window. She instantly opened her eyes and sprang out of bed.

“What’s going on!” She pressed the all-channel headset immediately.

“There’s movement beneath the base!” Xiao Li’s voice came through quickly. “The earth-type ability user Wen Qiu just came to me. He says something is lying in wait underground beneath the entire city and is trying to break through.”

Chi Xin remembered that today happened to be Xiao Li’s shift. No wonder the alarm had gone off so promptly.

“What? What’s happening?” Yu Xiang’s groggy voice chimed in. “It’s still bright out—are the zombies throwing a party?”

“That’s strange, the satellite map clearly shows—” Jing Xiubai’s voice suddenly paused, as if he were checking the computer. With the decisive battle drawing closer, he had stayed in the control room for days on end without leaving, monitoring information at all times. “Not good!”

“What is it!” Several voices exclaimed in unison.

“What’s Wen Qiu saying now?” Jing Xiubai asked instead of answering.

“He’s already reinforced all the soil within the city,” Xiao Li replied, “but he can’t detect what it is.”

“If I’m not mistaken, Raphael has already arrived,” Jing Xiubai said. “He’s trying to break directly into the base using machines, but he didn’t expect that we have an outstanding earth-type ability user, so he’s been stopped outside. If this guess is correct, the white ants and the wolf pack should raise the alarm very soon.”

Sure enough, as soon as his words fell, a long wolf howl echoed from outside the base.

From Xiao Li’s side also came a faint but distinct shout of “Report!”

This headset was small and fit deep into the ear canal. Aside from the wearer’s own voice, it was usually hard to hear others clearly. Yet this shout was transmitted to everyone wearing one—showing just how loud it was.

“Deploy troops!” Chi Xin decided instantly.

There was nothing left to hesitate over. All preparations had been for this day.

Before heading out, Chi Xin glanced through the window at the night sky. The moon was full, its edges faintly tinged with red.

A blood moon had appeared. Blood would be spilled tonight.

The entire base sprang into action. Trucks loaded with soldiers rolled one after another toward the city walls, even armored vehicles that had rarely been used before were dispatched.

Chi Xin’s friends all lived nearby. As soon as she stepped outside, they came rushing in from all directions, gathering in front of her.

Chi Xin slowly swept her gaze across every face. What reassured her was that she saw no panic on any of them.

“At least we’re a team you personally trained, Sister Chi. We’ve got to have some confidence,” Yu Xiang said with a grin.

Chi Xin smiled. Before she could say anything, a thunderous boom suddenly rang out, and the ground of the base began to quake.