Apocalypse: the Most Ruthless Person

Ding Yong Country was dozing with his arms crossed when he heard the hubbub, his eyelids fluttered as he looked towards the source of the noise. He saw a gathering of people and was still groggy when someone yanked him up, speaking earnestly.

"Get up quickly, the Leader is here. You’re new, right? At least go and make yourself known. If it weren’t for the Yama Corps coming back yesterday, our place would have been overrun. You wouldn’t have such a comfortable place to stay here anymore. Quick, wake that kid up, still sleeping, huh!"

"Huh? The Leader... oh, oh, got it. Ziwen, wake up, Ziwen..."

As soon as Ding Yong Country heard that the Leader was here, he instantly became alert. He tugged on the teenager beside him, named Zheng Ziwen, but Zheng Ziwen was too sleepy, though he did wake up, he was still in a daze.

"Oh, uncle, I just found a place to sleep for a bit. Don’t make a fuss, what’s up?"

Zheng Ziwen, who was forcibly woken up from his dream, was very displeased, twisting his arm and frowning deeply, quite grouchy upon waking.

"Haha, Old Ding!"

At that moment, a surprised voice rang out. Zhang Su had already approached closely, and upon seeing the familiar yet unfamiliar face, he was filled with mixed emotions.

The last time he saw Ding Yong Country was back in August. He clearly remembered Ding Yong Country back then, looking rosy and full of vigor, wielding a blacksmith’s hammer with great energy, forging tirelessly with clangs and clashes.

Looking now...

He was at least twenty pounds lighter than before, and his once full and rosy face was now lined with wrinkles, his appearance dusty and tattered. The words "disheveled" couldn’t even begin to describe it; even his shoes were falling apart, making Hong Qigong want to give him his Dog Beating Stick.

Upon hearing the familiar voice, Ding Yong Country was stunned for a moment, looking at the newcomer with bewilderment, his eyes wide open before narrowing again. "Zhang, Xiaozhang, Boss Zhang?"

"What are you saying? This is our Leader, call him Leader Zhang or Brother Zhang!"

The people nearby were astonished to hear the ragged middle-aged man address their savior as "Xiaozhang, Boss Zhang" and promptly corrected him.

"You, you... I, Leader Zhang, ah, I didn’t expect, you’re the Leader here? My god, haha... impressive, really impressive!"

Ding Yong Country was momentarily stupefied, then quickly changed his attitude, feeling a surge of warmth inside. He hadn’t expected to meet someone he knew here, especially someone with high status, let alone the fact that the person would take the initiative to greet him. It was unexpected, too much of a pleasant surprise.

He stood there, a bit at a loss whether to approach familiarly or respectfully. He heard others say that the Survivor Alliance was now a thing of the past and that this place had become the domain of Celestial Horse Island. Even the North City Four Tigers were under Celestial Horse Island, and the person in front of him was the leader of Celestial Horse Island, the actual leader of the northern forces of Qin City, a truly significant figure!

"When meeting old friends, no need to be so formal, Old Ding. Come, meet my brothers."

Zhang Su stepped forward, squeezing Old Ding’s strong shoulders, then looked at his companions beside him and said, "Let me formally introduce you, this skinny old fellow is my former personal blacksmith. Those swords, guns, and clubs I sold mostly came out of Old Ding’s blacksmith shop. We’ve been dealing with each other for... nearly seven to eight years now!"

At this point, everyone finally understood, and a look of realization appeared on their faces.

Lu Yubo pointed at Ding Yong Country with a peculiar expression, his finger trembling as he said, "You, you, you, so it was you. You forged those sheet metal knives?"

As a consumer of those sheet metal knives, and also a victim, Lu Yubo was quite exasperated to see the unscrupulous merchant!

Ding Yong Country scratched his messy head with his calloused hands, laughing dryly, "Those... no, if you mean those sheet metal knives, it definitely wasn’t me who made them. They are assembly line products. Sorry about that... young brother, the weapons I forge are certainly of fine quality."

"Haha, Old Ding, don’t mind him. These little punks use those blunt toys to fight. Otherwise, they’d all end up going in, including us. Don’t worry about that anymore... It’s really great to see you’re still alive!"

Zhang Su was very pleased to see Ding Yong Country. In this world, there were very few people with whom he shared pre-crisis memories. Zheng Xinyu, less than a year; Wu Lue and Zhao Xue, more like two years; but the old blacksmith in front of him had known him for about seven or eight years.

During their dealings over the years, the two would meet every couple of months, whether for Zhang Su to order some weapons from Old Ding, or to go fishing together, or to dine out at a farmhouse restaurant.

A few years ago, Zhang Su had even smuggled a batch of local specialties through Ding Yong Country’s connections. Not much was said, but they both earned around thirty to forty thousand, which made them pretty decent friends.

After a brief introduction, the people of the Yama Corps were all very courteous in shaking hands with Ding Yong Country, everyone knowing full well that such a skilled craftsman would surely be well utilized, and having an intergenerational friendship with Zhang Su, his future status in the camp was self-evident.

However, the young man beside Ding Yong Country had already been forgotten in the corner. Ding Yong Country, busy with the greetings, also forgot to introduce him until Zhang Su mentioned...

"Old Ding, who is this young man?"

Zhang Su looked at the young man who was turning his head away from everyone else, acting all aloof.

"Oh, look, I forgot. Ziwen, come on, greet everyone!"

Ding Yong Country quickly summoned Zheng Ziwen.

"Hello everyone."

Zheng Ziwen turned around, gave a very perfunctory nod, then turned back again, leaving everyone with the back of his head.

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