Chapter 109: Mystery at the Settlement

“Wang Zheng, are you sure this is the place?”

As the vehicles came to a halt, Chen Yong, aboard three off-road vehicles, instinctively surveyed the settlement before him.

This typical rural settlement featured an interwoven array of makeshift concrete buildings. In front lay continuous vegetable fields where several gaunt women squatted, digging for produce, while nearby children played energetically, brandishing wooden sticks in a makeshift zombie-hunting game.

Under a fading sky, they had traveled over 300 kilometers from the Zhenjiang Security Zone through the wasteland to reach this point.

In the dim light, the settlement appeared washed in gray, exuding an eerie scent of decay.

A few rusted metal boxes added a hint of blue, and four tricycles were parked diagonally along the settlement’s sole main road.

The terrain was low-lying; in the distance, a river meandered, with several men burdened by loads strolling in small groups.

“Yes, this is it.”

Seated in the front passenger seat, Wang Zheng also eyed the seemingly ordinary settlement and said in a low voice:

“Don’t be fooled by its normal appearance. Four days ago, one of our Merchant Guild’s awakened members detected something unusual here.”

“Once you disembark, be cautious—the problematic spot is in a house at the rear of the settlement.”

After saying this, Wang Zheng turned to Yenir:

“Lord Ye Lin, later we must conceal our identity by posing as representatives from the Military inspecting the water supply.”

“This settlement trades in water, so our excuse might just work. We have to keep our cover—just try not to…”

After a brief hesitation, Wang Zheng seemed at a loss for the right words.

“Just try not to… alert them…”

Yenir nodded slightly as he glanced behind the settlement, understanding Wang Zheng’s meaning.

The area had been marked by the system as a rudimentary replica zone. According to Wang Zheng’s earlier recon, anyone here could potentially become a paranormal entity—though they remain unaware. Any external stimulus might trigger unpredictable changes.

After disembarking, Wang Zheng motioned for Lord Ye Lin to wait while he briefly explained the situation.

There were nine of them on this trip; aside from Yenir, the rest were trusted confidants recruited by him and Chen Yong.

Glancing toward an unassuming, slightly balding middle-aged awakened man, Wang Zheng said to Yenir:

“Lord Ye Lin, this is Fang He—a Willpower and Agility awakened specialist.”

“The others are my subordinates. Rest assured—they’re all half-Willpower awakened, capable of sensing a bit of… something.”

Hearing this, Yenir looked at Fang He, who had casually extended his hand, noting that his willpower attributes were impressively high, roughly matching his own. The unremarkable middle-aged man returned the scrutiny with a cool glance:

“Fang He, Second-Stage.”

Unlike the courteous deference of the others, Second-Stage Fang He appeared indifferent, even showing a trace of discontent in his eyes.

“When we get inside, follow my command and heed the system alerts I receive!”

“And don’t think that Third-Stage folks can handle this casually. If something goes wrong, don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

Noticing his recruits’ sharp language, Wang Zheng quickly intervened to smooth things over:

“Lord Ye Lin, Brother Fang is an awakened adept with a knack for handling paranormal replica zones. He’s safely navigated three or four of them already…”

“He’s a straightforward guy, so please pardon his bluntness.”

Yenir raised an eyebrow but didn’t seem overly concerned.

Surviving three paranormal replica zones certainly meant Fang He had skills. Most awakened individuals avoid these zones altogether—except the Willpower types, who are forced in—while others steer clear. When faced with supernatural events, even the most potent awakened are as vulnerable as ordinary people, managing only slightly longer endurance.

“System alerts?”

“Isn’t this area just a rudimentary replica? Aren’t there no system tasks assigned here?”

Curious, Yenir asked in a low tone.

In the next moment, the proud middle-aged man snorted coldly:

“That is my ability!”

“While observing my surroundings, I receive partial system alerts—practically half the task information.”

Yenir nodded slightly, a bit taken aback.

Such a unique talent meant he could discern details without fully engaging—a trait that explained why Wang Zheng and Chen Yong were so confident in handling this replica zone; their preparations had been meticulous. If nothing went awry, Fang He, like me, had been recruited at a steep price.

It seemed that each of them carried specialized gear for dealing with paranormal replica zones…

After a brief rundown of precautions, the nine of them stepped past the barely perceptible boundary of the replica zone and headed straight for the problematic house.

…..

The moment Yenir crossed the boundary and reached the settlement’s entrance, a chilling sensation washed over him.

Faint water stains dotted the ground, and the surroundings seemed enveloped in a misty vapor.

Every breath he took was heavy with the smell of rust and dampness.

As he passed by the cargo tricycles, he nodded silently, realizing that something was indeed amiss.

According to Wang Zheng, this settlement was originally a rural agritourism spot that survivors later turned into a gathering place long after the apocalypse.

Resources here were scarce, the area remote from cities, and with few replica zones or horde spawn points nearby, it was relatively safe.

In this resource-poor environment, the survivors relied mainly on self-grown food, with their only other asset being the river behind the settlement. They would often fill containers with water to sell at the Safe Zone—a meager profit offset by minimal costs.

Yet the tire marks and hardened mud on the vehicles revealed that these transport trucks hadn’t moved in quite some time.

This indicated that none of the settlement’s survivors had ventured out.

“Swish-swish”

The moment they entered the settlement, a continuous clamor of water being poured rang out. Through a half-open door along the roadside, a few gaunt survivors mechanically filled their water tanks. One bucket after another, overflowing river water cascaded out, submerging their ankles.

Oblivious to already full tanks, the men numbly lifted their buckets to continue pouring. The icy water splashed forth in a burst, quickly flooding the courtyard and eventually trickling out through the door onto the damp earth.

Under the dim sky, the pooling water resembled blood as it gurgled its way into the soil.

Not far off, an elderly man sat in a puddle, his eyes clouded as he stared at them, unmoving like a corpse.

Witnessing the scene, the group felt a deep, sinking dread.

“Did you see that?”

“They seem trapped, oblivious to the fact that they should be hauling the water out to sell.”

“It’s like a vicious cycle—constantly drawing water from the river and bringing it back.”

Lowering his voice, Fang He pointed at the puddles scattered across the ground ahead, his expression guarded.

“Keep going a bit further and take a few turns. There’s a house that gives off the coldest vibe—it’s likely where the problem lies.”

Yenir’s gaze swept over the area, and the mental energy he projected detected an unusual disturbance.

It was cold—so cold.

It felt like the depths of a winter well.