Survival in the Apocalypse: Max Level Drop Rate with Abundant Resources

On the watchtower, Lord Wu'an's face darkened.

The first line of defense, including the obstacle course, had largely collapsed under the onslaught of the zombie horde. Fire walls were extinguished by the rotting corpses, trenches were filled in with their bodies, and barricades lay fallen in droves. Those fortifications were like paper before the zombie horde.

It wasn't that the fortifications weren't sturdy enough; it was that there were too many rotting corpses

Those in front fell, and those behind trampled over the corpses of those in front to continue their charge. Layer upon layer, endlessly. The vanguard players of the first line of defense had already suffered casualties, though not many, but it was only a matter of time before the line was breached.

"Pass down the order," Lord Wu'an's voice was deep. "Everyone at the first line of defense, withdraw to the second line of defense."

"yes!"

The messenger turned and ran down the watchtower.

The order to retreat was quickly relayed.

On the first line of defense, the vanguard players who were still struggling to hold out withdrew from behind cover and sprinted towards the second line of defense. A few who were slower were caught by the rotting corpses and fell with screams, but most of them successfully retreated.

The second line of defense is about 500 meters away from the first line of defense.

This is the core defensive line on the outskirts of Kyoto. It's not a temporary fortification built with sandbags and barricades, but a permanent defense system constructed by the military with a huge investment of manpower and resources after the apocalypse. Every fifty meters along the line, there is a concrete bunker, connected by underground passages. Above ground is a concrete wall about three meters high, with a dense array of barbed steel bars cast on the outside.

But the core of this defense line is not the wall.

It's that deep pit outside the wall.

It was a huge trench, ten meters wide and five meters deep, that meandered along the second line of defense, enveloping the entire eastern side of Kyoto.

At the bottom of the trench, oil drums were piled up densely. Not just a few or dozens, but hundreds. Before the apocalypse, the military had collected all the oil from refineries, gas stations, and chemical plants around Kyoto, and half of it was used to fill this trench.

At this moment, the survivors of the first line of defense passed through the pre-prepared passage to the second line of defense and retreated to the rear. The pursuing corpses tumbled into the deep pit in droves, crashing onto the oil drums with dull thuds. The corpses behind them couldn't stop their descent and also fell in. The deep pit was soon filled with corpses, struggling, howling, and climbing among the oil drums, trying to climb out of the pit walls.

Lord Wu'an stood atop the watchtower, his eyes cold as he watched the ever-growing number of rotting corpses in the deep pit.

"ignition."

The two words were uttered simultaneously by the commander.

Instantly, countless flames ignited along the defensive line. These weren't Molotov cocktails or fireballs; they were real flamethrowers. Orange-red pillars of fire shot from the bunker's firing ports, covering dozens of meters before landing precisely in the deep crater.

"boom!!!"

The oil drums in the pit were simultaneously detonated, and a small mushroom cloud rose above the defensive line, flames shooting skyward and tearing a gap in the black mist. The flames spread along the pit, forming a wall of fire several kilometers long, completely cutting off the vanguard and rear of the zombie horde.

The rotting corpses that had already fallen into the pit let out mournful howls in the flames, their bodies burned to charcoal as they fell in droves. Those rotting corpses that hadn't yet rushed into the pit were forced to stop by the flames, pacing restlessly outside the wall of fire.

The players on the second line of defense finally got a brief respite.

Some people collapsed to the ground, panting heavily; some frantically tried to administer medication; some checked their weapons and equipment; and some stared intently at the horde of corpses outside the wall of fire through the firing ports.

No one spoke, because everyone knew what this brief respite had come at the cost of.

Those oil drums were one of the trump cards of Kyoto's defenses.

Using it here means that we've lost a trump card in the battles to come.

Lord Wu'an stood atop the watchtower, his gaze piercing through the firelight and looking into the depths of the horde of corpses.

He is waiting.

The wall of flames could stop ordinary corpses, but not elites, much less their leaders. The horde wouldn't stop because of a wall of fire; they were waiting, waiting for the flames to die down. And he was waiting, waiting for the horde to send out its true elites.

Sure enough, deep within the black mist, the ordinary, decaying corpses that had been huddled together began to move aside, clearing a wide passage. At the end of the passage, enormous figures were slowly walking in from the direction of the teleportation portal.

Mutated corpse.

They were generally over three meters tall. Some were covered in thick bone armor, some had arms that had mutated into huge bone blades, some had wings on their backs and flew low, and some walked on all fours like wild beasts. Their numbers were far fewer than those of ordinary corpses, but the sense of oppression they exuded was more terrifying than thousands of ordinary corpses combined.

【Corpse - Heavy Armorer (Level 10 Elite)】

[Rotting Corpse - Bone Blade Butcher (Level 11 Elite)]

[Corpse - Darkwing Predator (Level 10 Elite)]

[Rotting Corpse - Giant Beast (Level 12 Boss)]

One by one, they emerged from the passage and lined up outside the wall of fire. Unlike the ordinary carrion that roamed restlessly, they stood there quietly, their scarlet, murky, and dark eyes fixed on the second line of defense behind the fire wall.

They are waiting, waiting for the flames to go out.

Wu Anjun's pupils contracted slightly. Elite level, leader level. These mutated corpses had already reached the level of most players in Kyoto. And they were only the backbone of the zombie horde. The true powerhouses had yet to appear.

The flames in the wall of fire began to subside.

Although there were many oil drums, they would eventually run out of fuel. The flames, which initially soared into the sky, gradually turned into embers spreading along the ground. The temperature in the pit was dropping, and the flames on the charred corpses were slowly dying out.

Outside the wall of fire, the mutated corpses began to stir. The heavily armored warrior lowered his head, aiming his thick bone armor at the wall of fire. The Bone Blade Butcher raised his massive bone blade, which gleamed coldly in the darkness. The Darkwing Predator spread its wings, eager to pounce. The behemoth pawed the ground with its hooves, letting out a low growl.

The flames are about to go out.

Just then, hurried footsteps sounded from below the watchtower. A messenger stumbled up, pale-faced and panting.

"General...General!"

Lord Wu'an frowned: "Speak."

"The Southern District is in dire straits!" The messenger's voice trembled. "The number of rotting corpses on the outskirts of the Southern District has suddenly surged, estimated to have exceeded ten thousand! A large number of these are mutated rotting corpses! General Wang's side... is about to collapse!"

Lord Wu'an's pupils suddenly contracted.

South District.

The troop strength is roughly the same in all four directions, but the defense line in the south is the weakest. This is because the terrain around the south is an open plain with no hills, no rivers, and no usable terrain.

Building fortifications there could only be done by sacrificing lives.

"What about the North District? What about the West District?" Wu Anjun's voice was low.

"No...no news has come back yet." The messenger's voice was even lower. "There's too little time; the scouts haven't returned yet."

Lord Wu'an remained silent. The lack of news suggested two possibilities: either the defenses were solid and nothing serious had happened, or the defenses had been breached and even the messenger hadn't returned alive.

He dared not gamble.

"Any other news from the southern district?" Wu Anjun asked.

The messenger hesitated for a moment, seemingly considering how to begin.

"explain."

"Someone...someone saw Tai Chu heading towards the South District." The messenger's voice was uncertain. "But they only saw Tai Chu alone, not Ming Ying. So we can't be sure if it was him."

Lord Wu'an was stunned.

The Beginning? The Southern District?

What was he doing going to the South District alone? Judging from the current situation, the eastern defense line is the main direction of the zombie horde's attack. While the south is in dire straits, it's only one of four directions. With Tai Chu's strength, staying on the east side would be far more effective than going to the south. Besides, even if he's incredibly strong, could he possibly hold off ten thousand rotting corpses alone?

Or……

An absurd idea flashed through Lord Wu'an's mind.

Is he really planning to take on the entire zombie horde in the South District by himself?

The thought had barely crossed his mind when Lord Wu'an suppressed it.

Impossible, absolutely impossible. Even the strongest being in the beginning was still human, not a god.

Ten thousand rotting corpses, piled up, could kill a person.

But now is not the time for speculation. The southern district is in dire need of support. However, the fire wall on the east side is about to be extinguished, and the second line of defense is in grave danger. He simply cannot spare any troops.

Lord Wu'an gripped his sword tightly, his mind racing with plans.

Kyoto, Minami Ward.

Under a hazy sky, the vast plain stretched as far as the eye could see. There were no hills, no rivers, and no usable terrain. The southern defense line was merely a low wall hastily erected with sandbags, barricades, and barbed wire.

There were many people standing behind the low wall.

Their equipment was varied: there were military soldiers in standard leather armor, casual players draped in animal skins, mages wielding staffs, and warriors carrying battle axes. Their faces were stained with black blood, and their eyes were filled with exhaustion, but none of them retreated.

With Kyoto right behind them, there was nowhere to retreat.

Outside the low wall, a dark horde of corpses surged in from the horizon. More than ten thousand rotting corpses, a dark mass covering the entire plain, like a black tsunami. Ordinary corpses ran at the forefront, elites were mixed in, and leaders sat at the rear. Their roars merged into a deafening sound wave, causing sandbags on the low wall to shed sand in a rustling sound.

General Wang stood on the low wall, looking at the overwhelming black tide, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

He was a veteran of the military, over fifty years old, a veteran of war, a witness to bloodshed, and a survivor crawling out of piles of corpses. He thought he would never be afraid of anything again. But at this moment, looking at that boundless horde of corpses, a deep sense of powerlessness welled up in his heart.

Ten thousand.

The southern district has only 14,000 people.

On average, each person needs to kill one rotting corpse to barely hold off this wave. But the zombie horde won't stop there. There will be a second, a third, a fourth wave, and so on, endlessly.

How should we fight this battle?

General Wang took a deep breath, turned around, and looked at the more than ten thousand faces behind him. They were all looking at him, waiting for his orders.

General Wang opened his mouth, wanting to say a few words to boost morale, but he swallowed the words back.

Those empty words are completely useless.

"Brothers," his voice was hoarse, yet carried an indescribable feeling, "it looks like we won't be able to go home for dinner today."

A deathly silence hung over the low wall.

"Since there's no going back, let's at least leave ourselves a dignified way to die."

General Wang drew his sword from his waist, turned around, and faced the surging tide of corpses. More than ten thousand men simultaneously gripped their weapons. No one spoke, but their fearless spirit was more powerful than any grand pronouncement.

Just then, a soldier suddenly exclaimed, "General! Someone has left the city!"

General Wang frowned and looked in the direction the soldier was pointing.

The side door of the low wall had been opened at some point. A silver-gray figure walked out of the doorway and headed towards the overwhelming horde of corpses.

His silver-gray uniform shimmered with a faint light, and his cape fluttered gently behind him. His steps were neither hurried nor slow.

In the beginning.

General Wang's pupils suddenly contracted.

"Is he insane?!"

Author Riding a Cow highly recommends: I hope you enjoy the story of "Survival in the Apocalypse: Max Level, High Drop Rate, and Abundant Resources" on Cola Novels.