Apocalypse Chapter 70: Battle For the Oil Fields – Part 3

Chapter 70: Battle For the Oil Fields – Part 3

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: Karai

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Jiang Rong and his people set up iron pots on the arena platform and started cooking dinner. Inside more than a dozen large pots, fragrant chunks of river fish simmered away. The mouthwatering aroma drifted on the evening breeze, and hungry stomachs growled in unison, pulling even the most disciplined toward the scent.

The espers from the Peace Base clutched their instant noodles—the so-called delicacy of their base. Under normal circumstances, being able to eat noodles was already a luxury. But compared to the Spark Base’s steaming fish stew, their noodles suddenly felt like punishment.

The espers managed to endure it, but the ordinary people who had tagged along with them on this mission couldn’t. They stared at the Spark Base’s massive iron pots with wide, yearning eyes, their mouths filling uncontrollably with saliva.

“It smells amazing…”

God, they wanted a bite. Just one bite. But they belonged to the Peace Base—if they dared wander over to the Spark Base’s camp, the espers would punish them. Someone muttered quietly, “Damn it… they’re just a small base. How the hell do they eat better than we do?”

“Shut it. Just breathe it in and eat your bran cakes. Maybe it’ll trick your stomach.”

Inside the guardroom at the oilfield gate, Zhou Xing—bruised and battered—sat with his legs propped up on the desk, thick bandages wrapped around his ankles. After being humiliated by Jiang Rong in front of everyone, Zhou Xing felt his authority crumbling. If this ever got out, how would he hold his head up in the Peace Base again?

A knock came at the door. One of his men stepped in, carrying a bowl of instant noodles. “Captain Zhou, dinner.”

Zhou Xing scowled. “Not hungry.” He hesitated, then asked, “Did you get in touch with the base?”

“Yeah,” his subordinate replied. “But Boss Meng isn’t available. They told us to call back at eight.”

Zhou Xing gave a stiff nod. “Fine. Go on.”

Just as the man turned to leave, a rhythmic tapping came from the guardroom window. Both men turned and saw Jiang Rong smiling brightly outside.

“Captain Zhou,” Jiang Rong called cheerfully, “dinner’s ready. Bring your people—let’s share a meal.”

Zhou Xing’s face flushed an ugly mix of red and green. First, Jiang Rong beat him bloody; now he was dangling this ridiculous ‘kind gesture’ in front of him? Did Jiang Rong really think he could buy him off with a bowl of fish? Over his dead body! He, Zhou Xing, would never submit. Not for food. Not for anything.

But Jiang Rong’s voice remained warm and easy. “Little Guaiguai didn’t know its own strength, so I owe you an apology for that. We’re all espers out here on a mission—no grudges, right? As for the oilfield, it’s not up to either of us alone. I’ll need to speak with your leadership directly.”

Zhou Xing’s posture shifted ever so slightly. He pulled his feet down from the desk. Jiang Rong grinned. “You know what they say—no fight, no friendship. I’ve got a fire-type esper on my team who really admires you. Says your flames are something else. Why don’t you come join us? We made spicy fish stew—dozens of pounds of it.”

Zhou Xing opened his mouth to refuse, but the smell hit him again. That maddening, rich, numbing-spicy aroma. Then, from beside Jiang Rong, two crimson vines slithered into view, casually twisting themselves into a tight knot. As the knot cinched, Zhou Xing’s throat suddenly felt tight, as though an invisible rope had closed around his neck.

A cold sweat ran down his back. What was the point of resisting? If Jiang Rong wanted them dead, none of them—not him, not his squad, not even the civilians—could stop that damned vine from crushing them like ants. Jiang Rong’s smile didn’t waver. “It’s not easy surviving out here. We should look out for each other. We made extra tonight, Captain Zhou. Won’t you do me the honor?”

Zhou Xing shoved on his boots at once. “How could I refuse Captain Jiang’s invitation?”

He wasn’t about to test whether that plant would come through the window and body-slam him again. He turned to his men. “Grab your eating gear. We’re going.”

Moments later, more than a dozen round tables made of packed earth appeared atop the arena. In the center of each table sat a massive iron pot, flanked by bowls of fresh green vegetables and neatly stacked dishes and chopsticks. And beside every table—two full crates of beer.

The Spark Base’s espers waved them over, grinning. “Come on! Sit down! We’ve been waiting for you!”

“It’s nothing fancy—we didn’t have much time. But eat up, eat up!”

The Peace Base’s espers exchanged awkward looks. When Zhou Xing had told them to “bring their eating gear,” they’d assumed it was a euphemism for “bring weapons.” Some of them already started quietly stowing their blades away, but one unfortunate man holding a two-foot spiked club just froze there, unsure where to hide it.

Luckily, the Spark Base didn’t seem to care. Once the espers sat down, Zhou Xing noticed four or five empty tables nearby. “Captain Jiang,” he asked, “what about those?”

Jiang Rong gestured toward the civilians hovering in the distance. “You’ve still got more people, don’t you? Bring them over. Food’s enough for everyone.”

He was talking about the Peace Base’s ordinary folk, who were staring at the feast like starving dogs at a butcher’s shop window. Zhou Xing snorted. “Captain Jiang, they’re just non-espers. Giving them this kind of food would be a waste.”

That was the Peace Base’s standard attitude. In this world, people without powers were the lowest of the low. They weren’t worth feeding well.

Jiang Rong only smiled. “What’s done is done—we’re not throwing it away. If they’re in your way, I’ll just move them farther off.”

“Pan Pan,” Jiang Rong called. Pan Pan grinned, and with a wave of his hand, five tables slid across the ground as if on invisible legs, stopping in front of the stunned civilians. Zhou Xing barked out, “You heard him! The Spark Base is feeding you tonight. Eat!”

The ordinary people stared in shock, their eyes wide and disbelieving. Before the Great Crisis, this meal wouldn’t have been anything special. Now? Now it was a banquet. Their throats tightened. Some of them even trembled. Then, as one, they lunged for the tables.

They didn’t sit. They didn’t wait. They just grabbed their chopsticks and started fishing out chunks of fish, shoving the steaming meat into their mouths heedless of the heat. Tears rolled down their dirt-streaked faces as they ate.

“God, it’s so good. So spicy… so good…”

Watching them devour the food, Zhou Xing sneered. “Pathetic.”

Jiang Rong said nothing. Zhou Xing had clearly never gone hungry. If he had, he’d be fighting for those fish chunks right alongside them. After a few bites of fish, Zhou Xing let out a satisfied sigh. “Fresh. This is a river fish, isn’t it?”

Jiang Rong poured him a beer. “It is. Little Guaiguai fished them out of the river. Didn’t think Captain Zhou would be such a connoisseur.”

Zhou Xing chuckled. “Hardly. Just a man who likes to eat. And this is the first proper meal I’ve had since awakening. Captain Jiang, allow me to drink to you—thank you for this.”

Jiang Rong raised his glass. “Captain Zhou, you’re too polite. Cheers!”

Chu Qiang grinned as Jiang Rong downed his beer in one gulp. “Big day, huh? Our Captain usually doesn’t drink at all. Guess that means you’ve got face, Captain Zhou.”

By the time Jiang Rong set his glass down, his cheeks were already flushed, his eyes bright with the edge of drunkenness. “Forgive me, Captain Zhou. I’m… not much of a drinker.”

Zhou Xing, pleased by his sincerity, laughed and clinked his bottle against his. “Then let’s keep drinking!”

After a few rounds, the tension was gone. The Peace Base’s espers were laughing, arms slung over the shoulders of the Spark Base’s espers like they were old friends. Bit by bit, between bites of fish and gulps of beer, the details of the Peace Base began to slip out. Its current leader was Meng Liang, a psychic-type esper. Sickly in body but sharp of mind, under his guidance, the Peace Base had thrived.

But Jiang Rong knew the truth: by next summer, Meng Liang would be dead. And when Liu Heng took over, he’d inherit Meng Liang’s disdain for ordinary people but none of his intelligence. Under Liu Heng’s rule, the Peace Base would weaken, and its people would starve.

The meal dragged on for over an hour, and by the time Zhou Xing set down his chopsticks, his speech was already slurred. He slung an arm around Jiang Rong’s shoulders and clapped him hard on the back.

“Captain Jiang, you’re a good man! From now on, our two bases should stay in touch—help each other out!”

Jiang Rong nodded sluggishly, as if drunk out of his mind. “Yes! Captain Zhou, you’re absolutely right!”

By eight o’clock, Zhou Xing was completely hammered. Jiang Rong, leaning slightly to one side and rubbing his forehead, looked like he might collapse any moment. When it was nearly time for Jiang Rong’s scheduled conversation with the Peace Base’s leadership, Guan Shao asked quietly, “Xiao Rong, are you all right?”

Jiang Rong turned to him and nodded. His cheeks were flushed, but his eyes were sharp and steady. Guan Shao exhaled in relief. “Good.”

Even if Zhou Xing was dead drunk, there were still sober espers in the Peace Base. At precisely eight o’clock, Peace Base’s radio crackled to life. Jiang Rong identified himself.

“Chairman Meng, this is Jiang Rong of Spark Base.”

A clear, steady voice came through the speaker. “I’ve heard much about you, Captain Jiang. No need for titles—just call me Meng Liang. I’ve already spoken with Zhou Xing. It was our man who overstepped. Please, don’t hold it against us.”

Then, after a brief pause, Meng Liang added gently, “The oilfield is a shared resource. The Peace Base has no right to monopolize it. If the Spark Base needs oil, you’re free to take it.”

Jiang Rong blinked, glancing at Guan Shao in surprise. He’d been ready for a fight. He had assumed Meng Liang would be domineering, but the man was… reasonable.

In fact, Jiang Rong had already prepared himself to burn bridges entirely if the Peace Base tried to stake an absolute claim. But instead, Meng Liang was stepping back. Of course, if the Peace Base was willing to show goodwill, Spark Base had to reciprocate. Jiang Rong smiled warmly.

“Thank you, Chairman Meng. You have my word—we’ll take only what we need and won’t overreach.”

Meng Liang chuckled. “No problem. The Jiangbei oilfield produces enough crude to supply every nearby base for centuries. By the way, Captain Jiang, do you have petrochemical facilities and the specialists to run them? If not, the Peace Base can help.”

Jiang Rong’s brow lifted slightly. This wasn’t a simple offer. If Meng Liang had been purely businesslike, Jiang Rong would have known how to handle it. But this level of courtesy? That usually came with strings attached. He didn’t dare agree too quickly. Instead, he replied politely, “Thank you for the concern, Chairman Meng. We’ve got a refinery nearby and qualified personnel in our base.”

“Good,” Meng Liang said easily. “Running a base isn’t easy. As leaders, we all understand that better than anyone. If you ever run into difficulties, don’t hesitate to reach out. If I can help, I will.”

After a few more rounds of polite small talk, the radio connection ended. But Jiang Rong didn’t relax. His expression was solemn. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Meng Liang was holding something back. Still, Meng Liang’s willingness to compromise—for now—was good news. The rest would just have to be handled as it came.

*

The next morning, Jiang Rong was still asleep when Zhou Xing’s booming voice jolted him awake from outside the window.

“Captain Jiang! Are you up yet?! If you’re awake, I’ll take you to the oil platforms!”

Jiang Rong stumbled out of the vehicle, rubbing his eyes. “Morning, Captain Zhou…”

Zhou Xing laughed. “You lightweight! Come on, let’s get moving. I’ll see to it you get your oil today!”

Jiang Rong slapped his face a couple of times to clear the last of the fog. “Give me a minute. I’ll be right there.”

“Take your time. I’ll have your people drive the tankers in,” Zhou Xing called, stuffing his hands in his pockets. As he turned, his gaze fell on two familiar round figures sitting on top of a truck, watching cartoons in the morning sun. He froze.

“What the hell—why is there a green one?!”

Little Fairy twisted its body mischievously. “Problem~?”

Zhou Xing’s mouth twitched. “Yeah… big problem.”

When Jiang Rong was ready, Spark Base’s tankers rolled into the oilfield. Despite its name, there were no actual “fields.” Instead, the area was crammed with steel tanks of all shapes and sizes, with only a few pumpjacks still slowly working in the distance. All they had to do was line their trucks up, and crude oil would begin flowing in.

“Quit dawdling!” Zhou Xing barked at the ordinary workers from his base. “Hurry up and get those tankers filled for Captain Jiang!”

The fish feast from the night before had thoroughly won over the Peace Base’s civilians. Hearing they were helping Spark Base, they threw themselves into the job eagerly. And then Jiang Rong saw a face he recognized. The man’s name was Jia Yuanqing. In his previous life, Jia Yuanqing had been Jiang Rong’s roommate. When Jiang Rong first met him, Jia had already lost an arm and looked decades older than his age—like a man in his fifties.

Jiang Rong remembered him so clearly because Jia Yuanqing had once saved Jiang Xiaoheng’s life. A year after they’d arrived in the Peace Base, an influenza outbreak had swept through. Xiaoheng had burned with fever until he was convulsing, and nothing Jiang Rong did helped. Just as he was about to break down in despair, Jia Yuanqing had quietly handed him a few fever-reducing pills. Thanks to those pills, Xiaoheng survived.

That was how Jiang Rong and Jia Yuanqing became friends. But not long after… Jia had gone out on a mission with some espers and never returned. Now, seeing him alive again—

Jiang Rong pointed. “Captain Zhou, that man. Is his name Jia Yuanqing?”

Zhou Xing scratched his cheek. “Dunno. I’ll ask.” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey, you there! Come here!”

The man hurried over nervously. Zhou Xing gave him a once-over. “Your name Jia Yuanqing?”

The man nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”

Zhou Xing turned to Jiang Rong. “Yep. That’s him. You know him?”

Jiang Rong smiled faintly. “An old acquaintance.”

Jia Yuanqing shot Jiang Rong a quick glance before dropping his gaze again, his mind spinning. His memory wasn’t bad—if he had ever met Jiang Rong before, he would have remembered that face. Jiang Rong spoke gently. “Captain Zhou, could I trouble you for a favor? I’d like to take this man back to the Spark Base with me.”

Zhou Xing grinned. “Sure! But… how about you get that little pet of yours to catch a few more fish at noon? We didn’t get enough yesterday!”

Jiang Rong gave him a thumbs-up. “No problem. I’ll make sure you eat your fill!”

Zhou Xing was satisfied with that, but Jia Yuanqing looked uneasy. “Sorry, Captain Jiang… I can’t leave. I’ve got a friend in the Peace Base. If he’s not going, I’m not going either.”

Jiang Rong turned to Zhou Xing with an apologetic smile. “Captain Zhou… what do you say if I add a few more fish to the deal?”

Zhou Xing laughed. “Deal!”

To him, it wasn’t a big matter. The Peace Base had more ordinary people than they knew what to do with. Letting a couple of them go cost nothing. And besides, Jiang Rong wasn’t stingy—this morning, the Spark Base had even invited their espers over for breakfast. Those fist-sized stuffed buns? Everyone had eaten five or six apiece.

In times like these, a person wasn’t worth as much as that kind of meal. Jiang Rong turned back to Jia Yuanqing and asked softly, “Your friend—are they in the base or out here with you?”

Jia Yuanqing’s eyes flickered nervously. “He came out with me. He’s right over there.”

Jiang Rong smiled. “Good. Once the oil’s loaded, you and your friend can come with me.”

In his last life, Jia Yuanqing had saved Jiang Xiaoheng. In this one, it was Jiang Rong’s turn to save him.

 

 

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