Chapter 423 Corpse
Steven's cautious attitude made everyone in the shelter not dare to slack off.
Henry practiced combat and shooting every day.
Nora was constantly whipping up food with her supernatural ability, then having Steven stash them away in the extradimensional space.
Even the usually laziest Earl was dragged out by Steven to practice his skills.
Everyone's supernatural abilities were different. Initially, they might've seemed basic, but they all had serious room to grow.
Take Steven, for instance—he'd already unlocked a bunch of tricks tied to his ability.
And he wasn't stopping there. Steven was always pushing the limits, stretching his spatial powers to the max.
Earl began to feel a sense of crisis.
Especially during the Battle of the Five Armies, he witnessed Leonard's combat style, who had a more powerful ice and snow ability, the "Lord of Ice and Snow."
He was eager to enhance his strength to avoid becoming a weak link in the shelter.
After all, Steven was not someone who would keep useless people around.
There was one more thing that made Earl feel uneasy.
That was when he learned that Lily also had the Psychic Devour ability.
In the past, only Steven and Fluffy had this power in the shelter.
He and Henry didn't have it and didn't think much of it.
Now that Lily also had this ability, it indicated that there were different levels of talent among psychics.
And he and Henry were on the lower end.
So Earl practiced desperately, trying to improve his combat power.
But no matter how hard he practiced, the results were not significant.
His methods were nothing more than ice spikes, ice walls, and snowstorm assaults.
If it was about control and interference, the effects were indeed good.
But against psychics, it was hard to cause significant damage.
In a one-on-one fight, he couldn't think of anyone he could beat.
Seeing Earl's hard efforts, Steven walked over and dropped some wisdom. "The more you use your powers, the sharper they get. But you gotta have the brains to back it up!"
He tapped his temple. "Think of powers like weapons. You can beef up the firepower, but without the smarts to use it? Useless. A pro can chuck a pebble harder than some rookie can toss a damn grenade."
Steven's explanation made Earl suddenly realize.
"Damn, I've been so fixated on raw power," Earl muttered. "But when Captain took out Charles, it wasn't about brute force—it was all brains and strategy. I can't devour other psychics' abilities, so my potential's capped. But if I max out what I've got? That could still pack a serious punch."
With that shift in thinking, Earl's whole outlook opened up.
Time flew by, and it was already March.
It should have been a time of revival, but the weather was still cold.
However, as the Earth slowly approached perihelion, the temperature rose slightly.
Yet this insignificant temperature rise couldn't make people ignore the cold outside.
Steven and Earl had cleared countless hell-difficulty games.
The game table at home had been repaired several times due to overuse.
Fortunately, with Aubrey, the mechanical expert, this problem was easily solved.
Everything seemed so harmonious, as if the days would quietly pass by forever.
But the most interesting thing about life is that you never know whether surprise or accident will come first.
The ruins of West Mountain Base.
The long-sealed old soil made it impossible for any living person to exist.
The supplies inside had been looted by Steven.
After the Battle of the Five Armies, no other forces dared to approach and search, making it a dead zone.
But on this day, the heavy dark green iron door of the Fourth Life Warehouse suddenly shook violently.
It was as if some huge and mysterious force was shaking it.
With just a few dull and fierce collisions, the heavy door bolt was directly broken!
In the dark space, ghostly green lights lit up, emitting a nauseating smell of decay.
From the door, a group of tattered, vacant-eyed corpses slowly emerged.
It was like opening a can of expired herring.
The zombies appeared densely packed, quickly filling the entire passage.
They seemed to be summoned by some force, slowly moving towards the exit of West Mountain Base.
The entrance filled with debris was soon cleared by them.
The wind and snow outside were heavy, and the zombies, densely packed, walked out of West Mountain Base in a mighty procession of thousands, heading southeast.
At this time, Steven was sitting on the shelter's sofa, drinking coffee and chatting with Cindy.
Cindy had a laptop on her lap, slowly reporting the status of the other four forces to Steven.
Yes, over the past month, she had hacked into the networks of these forces.
She quietly infiltrated and observed their movements.
Unlike West Mountain Base, their network security levels were lower, comparable to small and medium-sized companies back in the day.
Among them, Frostwood Base and Snowfall Cult had the lowest levels; they didn't even have dedicated personnel for network security.
Their communication methods relied on cell phones and satellite phones.
For Cindy, hacking into their networks was a piece of cake.
However, the core network areas of Silverlake Base and Emberwick Base used intranets, which she hadn't fully breached yet.
Even so, it was enough for Steven to know their current movements.
"Frostwood is playing it safe, bunkering down in their base. They're not looking to expand—happy with what they've got. Silverlake's leader, Leonard, got wrecked, so they're hunkering down too, beefing up defenses. That's let some smaller groups in their turf grow. Emberwick's holding steady, crushing a few rebellions. The Snowfall Cult came out on top! Their numbers are exploding—could be hitting tens of thousands now!"
Steven sat cross-legged on the sofa, wearing cotton pajamas, lazily listening to Cindy's report.
Nothing was too surprising.
Except for the last piece about Snowfall Cult, which piqued his curiosity.
"How the hell are they pulling in so many people and keeping them fed? I mean, not everyone's cut out to be a soldier or a worker. More mouths to feed could just mean more headaches. Even the other bases, with their resources, keep their numbers in check." Steven furrowed his brow, trying to wrap his head around it. "Is Natasha really playing a savior now?"
Cindy looked at Steven and said calmly, "Actually, there's another possibility."
"Oh? Tell me more." Steven propped his chin, looking curious.
Cindy explained calmly, "It's the apocalypse, Steven. Worse than chaos. Times like this, the whole world's order gets flipped upside down. You might just want to kick back and live the quiet life, but not everyone's on the same page. The Snowfall Cult are cashing in on the chaos and people's misery. They don't even need to throw punches to become something big in Starlight City. Once they've got enough followers and their message spreads far enough, even the big three bases—or some of us—might get sucked in."
She paused, then concluded, "Someone in the Snowfall Cult's aiming to play god."
Steven's eyes rolled, and he laughed dismissively, "That idea sounds a bit ridiculous."
But Cindy wasn't laughing. "Trust me, Steven, this is dead serious. When people are desperate, they'll cling to anything that gives them hope. Even in Starlight City, where folks are pretty sharp, when it's life or death? They'll buy into the whole 'god' thing in a heartbeat."
Steven smiled faintly.
Hands in his pockets, he glanced out the window and shrugged, "I'll give you this—it makes sense. But times have changed. Just having numbers doesn't mean you can call the shots. Even if they've got 10,000 followers, they're still no match for modern firepower."
Cindy tilted her head, her tone sharp. "And what if they use Natasha's 'Blessing' to crank out a bunch of psychics?"
Steven's brow furrowed slightly.
It was a solid question, and it made him pause. But not for long. "Psychics are just humans on steroids. Nothing to freak out over. And trust me, I've seen plenty—most of 'em aren't scary at all."
He said it casually, but Cindy shot him a knowing grin. "Steven, you're only saying that because you're already powerful."
Steven had the Devour ability and had devoured several powerful psychics, including Charles, the top fighter of West Mountain Base.
No one dared to conclude how strong Steven's supernatural ability was at this moment.
But Steven knew.
During the Battle of the Five Armies, he hadn't even used half of his strength, as he wasn't pushed to the brink.
"Snowfall Cult," Steven muttered under his breath, his hand tapping lightly on his thigh. His gaze stayed fixed on the window. "We need to keep a closer eye on these guys."
Just then, his eyes narrowed.
Through the swirling snowstorm outside the shelter, a crowd of figures emerged from the horizon, trudging slowly toward them.
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