IABI – Chapter 73 The Hidden Card Appears

The zombies howled around them, rushing desperately toward fresh flesh, their grotesque faces like vengeful spirits.

The ancient city, which had looked majestic and beautiful in daylight, had at this moment transformed into an Asura hell. Any living being who wandered in would only meet a fate of being swallowed and crushed.

Gunfire and shrieks intertwined, yet they did not disturb a small-scale standoff in progress.

Chi Xin’s gaze did not stray for even a moment. She locked onto the armed monster in front of her, her sniper rifle held with extraordinary steadiness.

She was no longer the little girl who trembled at the mere sight of zombies. Now she knew her weapon inside and out, understanding precisely at what angle to fire to achieve maximum effect and reduce her enemy before her to rubble.

But for now, she dared not act recklessly.

This creature—whether mutated human or high-level zombie—was armed with a dangerous weapon and aimed at them from extremely close range. Defeating it required calculations where even the tiniest mistake could be fatal.

At this distance, Chi Xin could easily recognize the missile model it held.

A small spear-type missile, with a two-kilometer range. Its laser launcher was located either at the head or the tail; only destroying this launcher could prevent the missile from detonating.

If it exploded, everyone here…

Chi Xin’s heart tightened, though her face betrayed no emotion.

The monster’s gaze was equally fixed on her, its tiny green eyes, under the flickering firelight, showing a mix of cruelty and hesitation.

Hesitation? Was it intelligent?

Chi Xin gripped her enormous sniper rifle, far larger than her own body.

The two faced each other, disproportionate in size, yet their postures mirrored one another perfectly. Both ignored the chaos of the battlefield; their eyes were locked solely on the other.

The scene resembled a frozen frame, yet beneath the silence lay immense danger. Both waited for the slightest crack to exploit, each ready to strike a deadly blow the moment the other faltered.

Even those in the battle couldn’t ignore this quiet corner. Even without battlefield experience, anyone could see that their survival hinged entirely on Chi Xin.

If Chi Xin won, they still had a chance to resist; if she lost, none of them needed to struggle—they’d be packaged together and thrown into the flames of the explosion.

Leonid cast a glance at Chen Xing: Can she do it?

Chen Xing responded with unshakable certainty: She can.

Chen Xing’s thinking was simple: if Chi Xin couldn’t do it, then no one among them could turn the tables.

Even so, seeing this scene caused a wave of tension to rise within them.

It wasn’t anything else—it was a missile. A small one, but deadly. Not just them; even the whole market could be wiped out. They didn’t distrust Chi Xin, but at this range, no mercenary in decades of experience had ever survived a missile aimed directly at their face—and lived to save their comrades.

Without exchanging a word, they vented all anxiety and fear into their guns, fiercely shooting at the approaching zombies.

The atmosphere thickened, escalating steadily toward a breaking point.

Then someone moved.

Chi Xin’s eyes widened, barely able to believe what she saw.

The damned thing, deciding that it couldn’t take Chi Xin out with this strike, shifted its aim away from her!

The dark barrel abruptly veered off course, turning toward the fighting squad instead.

Chi Xin’s pupils constricted. That brief moment of deviation revealed the mark at the front of the missile.

The laser launcher had been located!

Bang.

As if time itself had slowed, the missile shot out from the barrel, tracing a slow arc through Chi Xin’s vision.

Could she stop it? Could she save them? She could… she could!

In that moment, Chi Xin felt her whole body ignite. She didn’t calculate her speed—driven by combat instinct, she fired a shot and charged forward.

Around her, everything seemed to slow: the sparks curling from gun muzzles, the zombies snapping at her teammates, even the bullet she had just fired.

She ran almost faster than the bullets, following them through the smoke as if to catch their tails.

Click.

The bullet was still slightly faster.

Bullets from her large-caliber sniper rifle, the size capable of destroying tanks, were nearly identical in size to the small missile. Chi Xin fired quickly, but with precise angle calculations.

Two enormous weapons grazed each other lightly.

A fierce light gathered in Chi Xin’s eyes.

As long as the missile hadn’t reached its target, it wouldn’t detonate. She was chasing that critical fraction of a second!

Chi Xin pushed herself to the limit.

At the point where the two weapons’ paths crossed, the missile brushed the edge of her bullet. This slight contact forced it off its original trajectory, diverting upward.

This was the moment!

Chi Xin’s eyes, like equipped with a scope, locked perfectly onto the exposed laser launcher.

Destroy that, and the missile would be rendered blind. No matter its power, it would be ineffective without a target.

Chi Xin arrived, knees bent, sliding forward with the momentum.

Beneath the missile, her arm muscles tensed, lifting the massive sniper rifle—one that would normally require two men to handle—onto her side. From her other hand, she drew an ordinary sniper rifle.

She didn’t even need to aim—just fix her eyes on the laser launcher and fire—

Bang!

The laser launcher shattered like fragile glass.

Shards reflected the firelight, falling like a transparent rain around Chi Xin, as if flames had attached themselves to her.

“Chi Xin!” Rong Feng shouted hoarsely.

Before her was a pile of flames that had just ignited.

Yet Chi Xin showed no fear. The stones and dust under her knees caused pain, but it sharpened her focus.

She moved without pause, lifting the large-caliber rifle again, following the trajectory she had just created, and fired once more at the enemy.

Click.

Without its laser launcher, the small missile became nothing but a useless steel lump, crashing heavily into the dust.

At the same time, the two massive bullets Chi Xin had fired reached the black monster one after another.

The black monster’s tiny green eyes fixed on Chi Xin as it slowly lifted its cannon…

“Everyone, get down—!” Chi Xin mustered all her strength and shouted at her teammates behind her.

“Boom—”

“Boom—”

Brilliant flames shot into the sky, dyeing the night above in gold and blood red.

Chi Xin’s pupils dilated. In that instant, aside from the overwhelming instinct to survive, she could hardly make a rational decision.

Being the closest, there was no way for her to dodge. As the explosion erupted around her, instinct took over: she immediately clasped her head with both hands, curled her legs, and huddled herself up like a little shrimp.

“Ah—ah—!”

Painful cries mixed with the sizzling of burning zombies filled her ears. Chi Xin felt a massive wave of heat strike her violently.

“Sister Chi—”

Her teammates’ hoarse shouts seemed distant. She felt her entire body tremble, as if all five senses were wrapped in layers of numbness.

Her body felt weightless, lifted high like a basketball by the blast wave, and then hurled forward—

“Thud.”

Chi Xin hit the ground hard, unsure of how high she had been thrown, feeling her insides shift violently.

“Cough… cough.”

She clutched her stomach, propping herself up to cough a few times. Blinking, she barely managed to steady her spinning vision.

Someone rushed to her side, then soft arms gently lifted her. She shone with a milky-white light; the intense pain that radiated from within eased considerably.

“Cong… Jun?” Chi Xin’s vision cleared, and she could hear her own voice again, no longer drowned by the surrounding chaos.

“Xin Xin, Xin Xin, hold on.” Jiang Congjun’s voice trembled violently, and vast streams of milky light poured over Chi Xin generously, so much that from the outside it was hard to tell a person was inside.

The healing light wasn’t harsh to the eyes of the recipient. Chi Xin could feel her body’s cells rapidly repairing the damaged tissues. After a moment, she managed to speak, “…How’s everyone else?”

“Not good.” Jiang Congjun sniffled, still shaking, though her voice had calmed slightly. “Seeing you injured, everyone went mad, recklessly rushing to save you. But because the explosion’s radius was so large, those who went forward were hit by the shockwave…”

Chi Xin’s chest tightened. “Did… anyone die?”

“No, Yu Xiang protected me during the blast, so I was barely hurt and could immediately heal everyone,” Jiang Congjun said. “It’s just Rong Feng… he threw himself into the source of the explosion, even risking his life. He’s the worst off now.”

Chi Xin’s stomach sank. Things weren’t looking good.

She gently pushed Jiang Congjun’s hands aside, trying to stand on her own.

“Xin Xin! Your internal injuries are still severe!” Jiang Congjun shouted.

“It’s fine.” Chi Xin replied casually, though her mind felt a little detached.

Once, she had been the kind of girl who would faint over even minor injuries. Yet now, facing a wound that would have killed a normal person, she could calmly say it was nothing, even adding, “…won’t matter.”

She let out a soft sigh, waved off Jiang Congjun’s assistance, and forced herself to stand.

Pain shot through her internal organs, making her draw in a sharp breath.

Note to self: don’t use my body to block missiles again. Chi Xin thought seriously. This time, it really was the system’s blessing.

Fortunately, her body was strong. Despite being directly hit by the blast, she hadn’t lost a limb, only suffering internal and external injuries that weren’t life-threatening. Jiang Congjun continued to throw more light healing orbs at her, and as she began walking, the pain in her organs was almost negligible.

She was covered in blood, streaks marking her cheeks, yet her gaze remained composed and clear, showing no sign of pain or weakness.

She walked across the fire and debris toward everyone still alive.

Those who survived looked at her, and even the most hopeless eyes seemed to ignite with undying light.

After standing, Chi Xin realized she had underestimated the force of the collision.

Not a single building nearby remained intact; broken corpses hung in pieces, indistinguishable as either zombie or human.

That single strike had wiped out nearly all the zombies in the area. Only a few struggled to survive, and Jiang Congjun naturally wouldn’t waste energy on them—they weren’t that lucky.

Chi Xin glanced toward the source of the explosion. The original scene was unrecognizable, replaced by a massive crater, and the black monster was gone.

The previous threat was no longer felt. She let out a slight sigh of relief.

Even though her body could withstand it, she definitely wouldn’t risk this again.

Without Jiang Congjun, one could only imagine how tragic this battle would have been.

Chi Xin gratefully looked at Jiang Congjun, who, inexplicably, touched her face and shyly lowered her head. “Wh-what’s… wrong?”

Chi Xin: …? Why are you shy?! Not only the male lead is acting weird, the female lead too!

But she said what needed to be said, inhaling deeply and speaking sincerely: “Congjun, thank you.”

Jiang Congjun looked at her in surprise.

Chi Xin turned forward and saw Yu Xiang lying sprawled on the ground. Seeing her approach, he gave a sly grin. “Chi Xin, look! My hand broke once.”

“Is that something to be happy about?” Chi Xin chuckled, shaking her head, then looked at Yong Ning.

Yong Ning sat not far from Yu Xiang, his long black-green hair tangled, but his beautiful face was marred with bruises—though he seemed otherwise unharmed.

“Sister Chi.” Yong Ning stood obediently, his gaze filled with admiration.

Chi Xin didn’t notice, mistaking the light in her eyes for the flames reflected from the ruins. She raised a hand to touch his head. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” Yong Ning shook his head and lightly brushed against Chi Xin’s palm. “The physical abilities of a mutant should be stronger than an ordinary person. After Jiang Congjun treated me, I didn’t have any major problems.”

A hint of sarcasm appeared in his eyes. “I didn’t expect that this power, which I detest so much, would end up saving my life.”

“Misfortune leans on fortune, and fortune leans on misfortune,” Chi Xin said lightly. “After this, you can try accepting it, right?”

Yong Ning pressed his lips and nodded.

He understood Chi Xin’s meaning. Since it was impossible to return to his normal human form, the only thing he could do now was reconcile with his cognitive disorder and learn to use this abnormal ability to survive in the apocalypse.

As long as he could survive, he was a winner.

Yong Ning really wasn’t too troubled. Chi Xin turned her gaze to Chen Xing and Leonid.

They were sitting on the ruins, looking a little pale and tired, but clearly in decent condition—no life-threatening injuries.

Both of them smiled at Chi Xin.

Chi Xin returned the smile, though her expression grew serious. She didn’t see Rong Feng or Boss Lin.

“Are you looking for Rong Feng?” Jiang Congjun, like a personal doctor, had been following her closely. Seeing her frown slightly, she pointed to where the explosion had just occurred. “He’s over there.”

Chi Xin looked toward the direction where the ground had been completely destroyed. “I’ll go check. You don’t need to follow me—go check on them.”

“All right.” Jiang Congjun stopped.

Chi Xin stepped over the ruins and past a collapsed building, finally spotting Rong Feng.

The sniper was half-reclined at the edge of a giant crater, his long hair falling over his pale face. Judging by the blood gushing from his chest, the injury he had just received was certainly not minor.

Boss Lin was half-squatting beside him, silently watching.

“Ah Feng!”

Chi Xin called out loudly.

Hearing her voice, both of them lifted their heads. A look of unparalleled joy flashed in Rong Feng’s eyes, while Boss Lin’s expression was more subtle.

“Chi Xin.” Rong Feng’s voice was hoarse but gentle as he looked at Chi Xin running toward him. “You’re okay.”

“How could I not be? You just be glad you’re okay.” Chi Xin didn’t even know what she was saying. Anxiously, she scanned Rong Feng’s side. “How are you? Why didn’t Congjun treat you?”

Boss Lin stared at her. “He has been treated.”

“Then why—”

“Ms. Jiang said the impact was too severe. He can’t fully recover all at once. His body can’t handle it and may easily trigger stress reactions,” Boss Lin said hoarsely. “For now, he must stay as he is. Don’t move him lightly.”

“It’s not that bad,” Rong Feng interrupted. “I’m just a bit tired. I can continue fighting soon.”

Boss Lin looked at him but said nothing more.

But Chi Xin wasn’t a child of three. She wasn’t going to be pacified so easily. Between Rong Feng and Boss Lin’s conflicting words, Chi Xin naturally trusted Boss Lin.

She looked down at Rong Feng. “You stay here with Boss Lin. We’ll go meet Jing Xiubai.”

There were still two giant scorpions alive nearby. That should be enough to protect the two of them. Chi Xin made her plan and looked up at Boss Lin. “This isn’t the best time to escape. We don’t know what’s been released outside. Don’t think about acting. Stay here and protect Ah Feng. Wait for our message.”

Boss Lin lowered his eyes, seemingly either agreeing or having some other plan.

Chi Xin didn’t worry too much. By now, all of Boss Lin’s subordinates were probably wiped out, leaving him alone—unable to stir up any trouble.

Rong Feng looked anxious and reached for his gun. “I’m fine. I’ll go with you…”

“Ah Feng.” Chi Xin’s tone was gentle yet firm. “Trust us, trust me, okay?”

Looking into her eyes, Rong Feng slowly exhaled.

At that moment, the earpiece signal—almost forgotten by Chi Xin—crackled with poor reception.

Chi Xin was startled, then thrilled. “This earpiece is worth every penny—it still works after all that!”

Jing Xiubai was on full channel. Rong Feng and Boss Lin reached to adjust their earpieces. Through it came Yu Xiang’s voice: “Xiubai? Is that you?”

Static continued for a few seconds before Jing Xiubai’s voice came. “Was that explosion caused by you?”

“Of course!” Yu Xiang said passionately. “You didn’t see it. Sister Chi practically exploded the sun!”

Jing Xiubai was silent for a few seconds, then his voice softened. “Chi Xin?”

For some reason, Chi Xin felt a pang of weakness recalling his previous warning. She cleared her throat. “It’s nothing, everyone’s fine.”

She instinctively glanced at Rong Feng, who gave her an approving look.

Jing Xiubai sighed, clearly knowing this wasn’t the time for blame. “The explosion destroyed part of the equipment. The external surveillance of the ancient city is down. But earlier, I saw the worker ants appear inside the White Ant… so the Queen must know the situation here now.”

“Do those ants really follow the agreement?” Boss Lin asked with a hint of sarcasm. “For now, it’s best to activate the self-destruct system here and erase everything.”

Chi Xin noticed Boss Lin’s unusual mental state. Previously, he had always prioritized profit. This strong urge for destruction… perhaps it was a self-destructive tendency.

She looked at Rong Feng, who lowered his eyes with no abnormal signs, and set the worry aside.

Hopefully, nothing goes wrong.

Ignoring him, Jing Xiubai continued, “According to Qian Dan, we’ve survived the second wave, but the third wave is unknown. This was prepared before this ancient city was modified. Once triggered—no one will survive.”

His voice was grave. “I should return and meet you all. No one knows what we’ll face, and it’s better to be together.”

“No need.” Chi Xin immediately refused Jing Xiubai’s offer.

She knew the male lead’s combat power was second only to hers here. If he joined, the situation could change drastically, no matter what they faced.

But…

“Jing Xiubai, don’t reverse priorities.” Chi Xin said. “Our goal is to destroy this place and prevent any monster from spreading. Once the defense system is activated, your only task is this: start it.”

Jing Xiubai: “Chi Xin…”

“You understand. Only you can do this. Even if all of us had eight arms each, could we ensure not a single virus or monster escapes?” Chi Xin’s tone was firm. After speaking, she returned to her calm composure. “Worst case, this place becomes our tomb, burying us and the virus together. But the shield must be activated. It has to be.”

Silence lingered over the earpiece.

“Sister Chi is right,” Chen Xing said. “We’re just ordinary people in the apocalypse. If we can do something for this world, dying here isn’t bad at all.”

“—Besides, it won’t be us who dies,” Leonid’s less-than-perfect Mandarin came through. “Sister Chi is too strong. Who knows who will survive in the end!”

His tone was full of admiration; he was completely won over by Chi Xin.

“I support Xin Xin,” Jiang Congjun said.

“I’m on the side of the many,” Yu Xiang chuckled.

Hearing their words, Chi Xin’s heart quietly stirred.

They believed her, obeyed her, and handed everything into her hands.

“All right.” Jing Xiubai sighed. “You’ve convinced me. I’ll continue to break the firewall… wait, what? No!”

His shout vanished instantly. The earpiece fell silent.

“Jing Xiubai? Jing Xiubai?” Chi Xin tapped the earpiece, thinking the signal was lost.

But then she sensed something was wrong.

A sense of unprecedented danger surged through her. Chi Xin lifted her head sharply and met Rong Feng’s eyes.

In his gaze, Chi Xin saw her own wide-eyed shock reflected clearly.

Rong Feng wasn’t particularly alert, but seeing Chi Xin’s expression, he immediately sensed something was wrong. Struggling to half-kneel, he braced herself with her gun and whispered, “What’s wrong?”

Chi Xin looked at him, fear gripping her head. She wasn’t sure if this shock could break her usual stoic mask.

“There’s…” she opened her mouth.

The full channel wasn’t closed—only Jing Xiubai’s signal was lost. Chi Xin’s reaction had drawn everyone’s attention.

“Chi Xin, what happened?” Yu Xiang asked.

Before she could answer, the entire ancient city trembled. Amidst the shaking of earth and sky, a distant, eerie wail echoed from somewhere unknown.