Urban Powers After the Apocalypse

"A handgun? Could that guy be an undercover cop here to rescue the hostage?"

Luo Zhiyang furrowed his brows tightly. This wasn't a conventional kidnapping, which was precisely why he had taken money to do it. If the police were alerted because of this, it would spell trouble for him and even the entire Southern City Gang.

"No, judging by that kid's age and the model of the handgun he used, he can't possibly be a cop. Besides, he was accidentally hit by Monkey on the street. From the fact that he was carrying a backpack, he's most likely just a student," Old Stick hurriedly explained.

"Useless!" Luo Zhiyang roared as he kicked Old Stick, who was kneeling on the ground, sending him sprawling. He bellowed, "Seven grown men, almost wiped out by a mere student still in school, and you have the nerve to come back? Why didn't you just die with them? You might as well go and join Black Wolf and the others right now!"

Several subordinates stepped forward to grab Old Stick by the arms. Struggling free, Old Stick threw himself at Luo Zhiyang's leg, sobbing bitterly. "Boss, please spare me! I only ran back secretly to inform you of the situation because I was afraid no one else would!"

Luo Zhiyang's face darkened as he coldly looked down at Old Stick. After a long silence, he finally spoke. "Coming back to report the situation is a merit, but abandoning your brothers to escape alone is something I can't overlook. Otherwise, I won't be able to explain it to the others… Leave your hands behind."

"Th-thank you, Boss."

Old Stick, his face ashen, was dragged away. Everyone knew that though his life was spared, his future was ruined.

"Xingzai."

At Luo Zhiyang's command, a young man with a somewhat comical appearance stepped forward and bowed slightly, awaiting orders.

"Take this sketch drawn according to Old Stick's description, make several copies, and send the men to check all the middle schools around the city, especially near the crash site. Find that student."

"Yes," Xingzai accepted the task but hesitated before asking, "Boss, if we find him, should we bring him to you?"

"If you find him, don't act rashly. Investigate his background first. We don't want to provoke someone we can't afford to mess with. Haven't we learned enough from Black Wolf's fate? However... if he has no backing, then I'll make sure he learns what happens when someone crosses Luo Zhiyang!"

With a sudden slam, Luo Zhiyang's palm struck the redwood surface of the boss's desk. The jade thumb ring on his finger shattered into pieces.

"Achoo!"

In algebra class, Xu Mo, with panda-like dark circles under his eyes, let out a long yawn.

His deskmate, HeShang, glanced at him sympathetically and passed him a can of coffee under the table. This guy always had some on hand, thanks to his frequent late nights.

"Bro, take care of yourself. The Five Sisters may be great, but you should still practice moderation..."

"Screw off! Don't judge me with your otaku standards. I'm not that pathetic—I have better things to do than waste my ammunition that way..."

Xu Mo couldn't be bothered to explain further in the face of HeShang's wicked grin. After all, he knew full well that his current appearance did resemble someone suffering from overindulgence. But he had no choice—ever since he shot Black Wolf and his gang, he had been plagued by constant nightmares. For over ten days, he hadn't had a single full night's rest, and his deteriorating mental state was obvious.

However, there was a silver lining. Thanks to all the extra hours awake, his understanding and control over his current Apocalypse Shard abilities had improved drastically.

The Yellow Apocalypse Shard's "P-Handgun" could be stored within the shard space, making it highly portable. The gun had virtually no recoil, feeling more like a toy gun when fired.

Though it only had twelve rounds, a new bullet regenerated every two hours. Even if he emptied the entire magazine, it would fully replenish within a day—meaning he never had to worry about running out of ammo.

The only drawback was that even if he left it unused for a long time, the maximum capacity never exceeded twelve bullets.

Xu Mo sometimes practiced his shooting in secluded spots, using firecrackers to mask the gunshots. But since he hadn't done it often, his marksmanship was only reliable within ten meters. Beyond that… his chances of hitting a target were about the same as shooting at a satellite.

The Green Apocalypse Shard's "Gentle Touch" had an effective range of about two meters around his body. The highest softness it could grant an object was comparable to an inflatable cushion. More than soft, it was more like elastic. However, the ability only temporarily altered an object's softness without compromising its structural integrity.

Since it was discreet, Xu Mo had practiced it the most, now achieving an 80% instant activation success rate. If undisturbed, he could use it flawlessly. However, it seemed to consume an incredible amount of mental energy—after about ten uses, he'd be completely drained and would need a long sleep to recover.

The Blue Apocalypse Shard's "Demon Hand" turned out to be unexpectedly useful. Like the P-Handgun, he could summon or dismiss it at will. It was incredibly tough, far stronger than high-grade steel, and could easily smash bricks and stones.

Most importantly, no matter how hard it was struck, "Demon Hand" felt no pain. Its offensive power depended solely on Xu Mo's strength and physical endurance.

Of course, not everything went smoothly. So far, he still hadn't figured out what ability the Red Apocalypse Shard granted him. The only thing he was sure of was that activating it brought an overwhelming sensation of pleasure, making him wonder if it enhanced a certain… specific function. But there was no way he could test that theory on someone else. This mystery left him utterly frustrated.

Due to his sleepless nights, Xu Mo could only catch up on rest during class. Being surrounded by his classmates gave him a subconscious sense of security, allowing him to sleep exceptionally well.

"Teacher, Xu Mo is sleeping in class!"

Just as Xu Mo was in deep slumber, the chubby boy sitting to his right, Zhu Di, suddenly raised his hand and loudly reported him to the teacher, pointing at the dozing Xu Mo with his pudgy finger.

A few days ago, Zhu Di had been humiliated over a seating arrangement dispute. Holding a grudge, he seized this perfect chance for revenge.

"Damn it! Pig Trotter, are you serious?!" HeShang, Xu Mo's loyal friend, slammed his desk in fury.

No matter the reason, students generally disliked tattletales. Though they couldn't openly rebuke Zhu Di in front of the teacher, nearly the entire class cast disdainful looks at him.

But teachers didn't care about student rivalries. They cared about their authority—and Xu Mo was clearly challenging the limits of the teacher's patience.

Zhu Di had chosen his moment well. Other than the homeroom teacher, the one currently teaching was the fiery-tempered, fifty-something Mr. Li, infamous for his pinpoint chalk-throwing skills. People called him "Chalkhead Li."

"Xu Mo! This is a sacred classroom, not a rest stop! It's not a place for you to sleep!"

With a thunderous roar, a puff of chalk dust erupted from Mr. Li's fingers, sending a fingernail-sized piece of white chalk hurtling toward Xu Mo's forehead like a meteor!

"Huh?"

Jolted awake by the shout, Xu Mo barely had time to react before a white blur zoomed toward him. Instinctively, his right hand shot up, flicking the chalk mid-air. It veered off course and smacked directly into Zhu Di's mouth. The unlucky boy yelped in pain, blood spraying from his lips as he toppled backward, knocking over desks and chairs.

"Ow! Teacher, Xu Mo hit me!" Zhu Di wailed, clutching his mouth, his cries drowned by the laughter of the entire class.

Only Xu Mo wasn't laughing. He was too stunned by his own incredible reflexes.