Chapter 1 - Wake Up

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"Give me a suitable distance, and God will kill!" — Warlord Zero

The dream was like a faded old photograph, shrouded in yellow.

"Hahaha..." "Chase after me …"

"..." Stupid... "You have to come back alive …"

"What?" When you come back, propose to me? I … "I didn't say that I would marry you …"

"..." Unless... You brought 999 roses with you... Then I'll just force myself to marry you … "Hahaha …"

Her bell-like laughter echoed in the dream, soft and cheerful.

That swaying white figure was like a lily in the wind, tender and delicate to the point it caused others to feel pity for her.

He could not see her face clearly, but a pair of clear eyes flashed. Who was the person reflected in those eyes that were as gentle as water?

"Li …" In the dream, he lightly called out a name, but he did not respond.

Just like before, the dream gradually disappeared like a bubble and he once again fell into a deep sleep that he did not know how long he slept for.

However, this time, something unexpected happened.

In his dazed state, he seemed to hear something else.

"..." What the hell … I thought I could find some treasure, but it turns out to be a smelly man! "

"Hahaha, Hans. Didn't you get so hungry that you even did it to a man? I've heard that the thirteen-year-old Rumba kid was done by you. "

A burst of unbearable laughter rang out.

"Shut up! Be careful not to prick your chrysanthemum. However, this brat looked pretty beautiful. I, your father, have never had a handsome man from the old era.

As he laughed, he suddenly felt something touch his body.

A signal was sent from the depths of his consciousness, and dozens of data were transmitted to his body. His body, which had been sleeping for an unknown amount of time, gave him a rusty feeling, but his movements were only about 5 percentage points slower than his peak. His body first moved 30 centimeters horizontally before he suddenly sat up. His hand habitually moved to the right and a cold feeling of metal came over him.

He raised his arm, stabbing the cold and heavy object upwards. He only slowly opened his eyes when he felt the sensation of something.

After a short period of discomfort, his vision gradually focused, and he saw a vulgar face. Judging by his brown hair and pale skin, he was a Caucasian. And now the face's owner, his chin pressed against a shiny black barrel, his eyes mixed with a mixture of fear and anger.

"Oh my god, he woke up."

"Hey, kid. Let go of Hans, if not we will not be courteous to you! "

A confused voice came from behind the Caucasian man. He looked past the "hostage" in his hands. It was a dozen or so men dressed as miners, with black and white skin and even two yellow people. They held weapons in their hands, if spades and hammers could be called weapons. There was no doubt that they were targeting him with these tools of violence.

He was silent. The chaotic images in his mind could not organize what was known as memory. He didn't know where he was, who he was facing, or even who he was. Faintly, an image of a well-dressed military uniform flashed through his mind.

Maybe he was a soldier? Maybe!

It was an unanswered question, but even as he pondered it, his hands were as firm as cast iron, and the miniature automatic machine gun in his hand, the length of its black barrel, did not move even a millimeter.

Anyone could tell that this miniature machine gun could instantly shoot Hans's head into a beehive.

With the barrel of the gun, Hans's entire body was already drenched in sweat. What was hateful was that he didn't even dare to change his posture to make himself more comfortable, let alone move. It would lead to a misunderstanding, and in the next second, hundreds of bullets would turn his head into a rotten balloon.

This standoff lasted for a minute, and Hans's legs started to tremble. Seeing that the situation was about to turn into a mess, there was a commotion in the crowd. The various races surrounding him moved to the sides and an old man walked in.

This man clearly belonged to a completely different class from the miners.

He was wearing a worn leather jacket and a grayish-blue tweed shirt. On her lower body was a pair of greasy jeans and a pair of black military boot s. Such a combination was naturally out of the ordinary, but compared to these clothed miners, they were like clouds and mud.

The old man kept on smoking his pipe as his eyes flashed like a poisonous snake. He wandered around between Hans and the two of them. Finally, he said in a deep voice, "Let him go, Survivor. You know how to use a gun. That's good. I, Old Jack, am lacking a talent like you. For warriors like you, there's no need to fuss about it with a dog like Hans, is there? "

Even though his chin was pressed against by a gun, Hans's eyes still flashed with a venomous light.

He opened his mouth and asked in a soft but slightly hoarse voice, "How should I trust you?"

Old Jack blew out a smoke ring and said slowly, "In this base, I am God. No one dares to go against my voice, so don't worry, these bastards won't dare to cause trouble for you. "Moreover, you have a gun in your hand. Even though it's a sprint from the old era, it's still enough to shoot down anyone, including me."

"Only if you kill us all, no one will tell survivors like you what the world is like now." Old Jack added.

The gun barrel left Hans's chin little by little. The latter's legs gave out and he fell onto the ground. The miners behind him quickly went up and pulled him down.

He sat up straight, the miniature machine gun on the side of his thigh. However, the gun was still pointed at the group, maintaining a position where they could shoot at any moment.

Old Jack seemed to turn a blind eye to the machine gun. He walked up to it, took out his pipe and asked, "Welcome to the apocalypse, but no matter what, life must continue. Would you mind telling me your name, then, Survivor? "

Name?

To be honest, he couldn't remember. However, he noticed that on the object that resembled a hibernation chamber, there was the word "ZERO".

Thus, he raised his head and said the name that would be praised by countless people, "My name is... "Zero …"

"Zero …" Old Jack repeated the simple name, noting that the man named Zero had a pair of eyes of different colors.

His left eye was pitch black, no different from a normal yellow person's eye.

However, his right eye was a dazzling gold. Its eyes were like those of a dragon, as though they were made of gold, but they also had silver lines on them. It was as if he came from a mysterious background.