Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 534 - 365: Old Days (Part 1)

Chapter 534: Chapter 365: Old Days (Part 1)

"Have you noticed that the mosquitoes here are much larger than their counterparts in the Dark Zone of the Northern Wilderness?" Six Fingers dragged back the large mosquito that Malin had shot and killed, and the elf named Goldenleaf knelt beside the mosquito, taking out her dissection tools to cut open the mosquito’s abdomen, "There’s fresh blood, likely from the zombies."

"Apart from us, there aren’t any other living people here," Gold Ingots turned his head and said.

"Dwarf, on account of our similar statures, don’t speak so loudly. Do you want to let every monster in the building know there are guests?" the Half-human Six Fingers complained.

Leaning against the wall, Malin listened to the distant corridors and confidently confirmed that there wasn’t anything: "What do you usually see in the Dark Zone?" he asked Gold Ingots.

"Bloodsucking mosquitoes, zombies, all sorts of mutated beasts, but no Spirits. These creatures are quite cunning and rarely fall to mutation," Gold Ingots explained in a low voice.

"Is this your first time entering the Dark Zone, Mr. Malin?" Six Fingers asked.

"Yes, my first time. Before this, I had only seen these in books, some hadn’t even been mentioned in books..." Saying this, Malin took out the dog tags of Shuen Romne from his pocket — a relic found from the world of Mana.

This Deep Diver must have come to another timeline by accident, either due to disease or being crushed by despair.

"Does anyone recognize Shuen Romne?" Malin asked.

At least seven pairs of eyes turned toward Malin.

An elf girl raised her hand, "I do, he was a very famous Think Tank Curator in the Holy Kingdom, he disappeared twenty years ago. How do you know his name?"

"I found his relic during a deep dive," Malin said, then took out the dog tags.

"He was my uncle," a gray-haired Half-elf approached, glancing at the dog tags in Malin’s hand: "That is indeed my uncle’s... How did you find him?"

"In another timeline of mine, your uncle passed through time, arriving in the future of that timeline. Our world was destroyed by Chaos, the plague of Nagoth swept across the entire world... everything was finished."

"Then we must have resisted, right?" someone asked.

"Yes, everyone resisted. And in that timeline, I undertook the most resolute, and also the most insane resistance," Malin said with a sigh, "That version of me became the fifth."

"My goodness, I was just about to say, the newly emerged fifth Evil God unexpectedly showed mercy to humans," Dante joined in at this moment: "Don’t mention that timeline anymore, Mr. Malin. You don’t know, if we talk too much about those worlds, we’ll gradually get closer to them. In some places where rifts appear, the worlds on both sides might even connect due to being too close. If the plague gets through, then we’re finished too."

"I know, I understand," Malin nodded, and then handed the dog tags to the Half-elf: "May this relic bring comfort to your family, although I know the truth is cruel, yet sometimes..." Dante turned his head and saw a white skull poking out of the small portal on the wall.

"Mana." Malin called out immediately — lest some fool put a hole in his head.

Although it was certain no hole could be made, a lead bullet might enrage this being if it hit.

· I heard you mention me.

The being grinned.

· Anything I need to be aware of?

"All’s well, what about you?" Malin replied.

· In seventeen hours, I’m going to pick a fight with someone from the list of Nagoth’s world, fancy coming along?

"I’ll pass, thank you," Malin rolled his eyes — your mere gesture is a fireball, going there even just for a spectacle would make me nervous.

· Then I’m off. Also, my world has been purified. Some Thanan have held out in a few fortresses till the end, they became my first kin.

Having said that, the being turned and left, leaving the great hall full of people wide-eyed and speechless.

It took a while before Dante wiped the sweat from his brow: "Let’s pretend I didn’t say that," and without another word, he turned and left.

The Half-elf nodded at Malin and took off as well.

Gold Ingots, on the other hand, fearlessly shuffled a couple of steps closer to Malin: "We actually didn’t die just now, I thought for sure we were goners. It turns out the fifth does really look out for us."

"Keep it to yourself," Malin wasn’t keen on having people praying to that being all day long. What if a disaster happened?

"Of course, I wouldn’t want such a great existence to take notice of me," Gold Ingots, being the professional he was, showed a certain professional ethic.

But Malin thought he was probably scared.

After all, not everyone in this world can face a true Chaos Evil God. Had that being just now put those present through a willpower test, most likely none would have survived.

However, Mana was motivated by the will for revenge; his existence was to avenge the four Evil Gods, most notably against Nagoth. Beyond that, so long as one doesn’t foolishly challenge him, he turns a blind eye.

Besides, it’s probably his mercy towards the human race.

After gathering samples from the mosquito, Dante decided to split the force into two, Malin leading a team of Dwarfs and Half-humans upwards, while they would go down to the lower levels.

The previously lured-away zombie horde had returned. An outside Patrol Team entered the great hall, and they closed the main gates, serving as the backup squad.

Appreciating Dante’s trust, Malin didn’t hold back. He led Gold Ingots and his friends up the stairs, while Six Fingers and his team were responsible for watching their rear.

The building was silent as they walked, footsteps echoing softly — Malin, having replaced the soles of his boots with soft pads, took the lead, surveying the inscriptions on the walls. Unfortunately, they hadn’t lasted as well as the building itself.

Upon reaching the second floor, Malin glanced at both sides of the platform and ultimately decided to let Six-Fingers and the Gold Ingots take half the group to search the left side while he went to the right with four half-humans.

Although both expressed their concerns, Malin still reassured them and then walked towards the first room on the right, gun in hand.

There was no keyhole on the door of the room, but the half-humans in Malin’s team were well-practiced; they gestured for him to be cautious. Then, one of them gently touched the door, and Malin saw it automatically retract into the wall, revealing the interior of the room.

There was a zombie, facing away from Malin.

Then another zombie was cutting something with a tool in its hands.

Malin stepped to the left and saw the third zombie turning its head to look at him.

He pulled the trigger, and the bullet flew out of the barrel and into its forehead.

As he brought it down, Malin stepped forward and killed the zombie facing away from him.

As it knelt on the ground, Malin reversed his rifle and used the butt to knock out the back of the head of the zombie that was getting up.

He then saw a broken knife and a mosquito.

"There’s a problem, there are mosquitos on the first floor. How did they get to the second floor?" Malin turned to the half-humans.

"Maybe through the inter-floor transport passages, technology from before the Great Destruction Era, it’s quite fascinating," one half-human said.

"Zombies can use them?"

"Yes, they can."

With this answer, Malin fell silent for a moment—what were the people before the Great Destruction Era up to?

He had thought these zombies were merely cannon fodder, but now, seeing that they could use the technology from before the Great Destruction, which kind of slave-master would let slaves use those?

Weren’t they supposed to have been deployed to the battlefield as soon as they were created?

With such doubts in mind, Malin picked up the knife and discovered it seemed to be a standard-issue weapon of the Farolian army: "It’s Farolian, how strange."

"Maybe they got it from a Farolian Patrol Team or the Tech Hunters," the half-human suggested.

If it was the latter, then Malin wouldn’t find it strange, but if it was the former, that would mean re-evaluating the zombies—they had a craving for tools, a desperate need to use good tools; perhaps this dagger was obtained from the Patrol Team at the frontier.

Or maybe... the dagger had changed hands, and the zombies had obtained it through some kind of trade among themselves.

Thinking this through, Malin checked the scene once more and found bowl-like objects: "Are these their bowls?"

"Who knows, we never paid attention," the half-humans all said.

So Malin checked the three zombies for distinguishing features... two female and one male; the one that turned to face him was male, the ones facing away and cutting the mosquito were female.

Was there a social division of labor, or was it just an accident?

Either way, more confirmation was needed.

With that in mind, Malin turned and raised his gun, because there was the sound of a door being opened at the end of the corridor.

He carefully moved to the side of the door, and the half-human beside him handed out a mirror. Malin angled it out slightly and saw a zombie.

Lorrin darted out of Malin’s sleeve, streaked forth, and left the zombie and its scream hanging from the ceiling. Malin turned and walked with his gun towards the door that had opened at the end of the corridor.

The half-humans behind him also emerged, with two following him, and the other two pointing their guns at the closed doors on either side.

When Malin reached the door, he pressed himself against the wall, tore a stun grenade from his waist, pulled the pin, and tossed it into the room.

The half-humans shut the door, keeping the screams and the explosion confined within the room.

After silently counting to three, feeling the slight vibration from the wall, Malin stood in front of the door. As a half-human opened it, he kicked the small zombie standing in front of it, sending it flying against the wall and crashing to the ground.

Malin rushed into the room and shot the struggling zombie trying to rise, then swung the gun to the left, firing a bullet through a piece of animal hide to kill the deformed zombie behind it.

Two half-humans stormed in and tied the small zombie’s hands behind its back before gagging it.

Malin turned and lifted the head of the small zombie, facing a countenance entirely different from the small zombie they had captured before—in the Dark Zone, the degree of mutation in zombie young far exceeded the imagination.

"Should we take it with us?" a half-human asked.

"We can’t take prisoners now, kill it," Malin said, and walked out of the room.

As he approached the closed door, he heard the muffled sound of a bullet passing through a silencer behind him.

How does that saying go?

Ah, that’s right... life is too bitter, vows are too heavy.

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