In St. Martin Town, James Lone's shadow clone silently landed atop the grand willow tree. With a sensing range of 200 meters, it covered much of the town.

What he saw was chaos personified.

Even at night, survivors streamed in from the escape route to St. Martin Town.

At the village entrance, soldiers had set up checkpoints, forcibly confiscating firearms, crossbows, slingshots, and other ranged weapons. Yet, visibility was poor, making it impossible to apprehend everyone.

Consequently, some survivors cleverly circumvented the checkpoints and slipped into St. Martin Town from alternative routes.

The interior of St. Martin Town was even more chaotic.

The sounds of theft, robbery, fighting, and executions filled the air.

Some people wept, having lost track of their loved ones.

Others hawked goods by the roadside, brazenly selling various supplies, many of which were counterfeit.

There were even individuals peddling shriveled lychees, trying to trick others into believing they were esper fruits.

The entire town was a shambles.

Yet around a low gray building, a semblance of order seemed to exist.

Hundreds of armed soldiers patrolled day and night, issuing three warnings to any survivors who ventured too close before executing them on the spot.

Next to this low building, a warehouse was filled with abundant food and various supplies.

Inside the low building, James Lone spotted a multitude of espers—some dressed in military uniforms and others in a colorful mishmash of clothing.

The survivors and espers appeared to be lining up to register.

The strongest esper among them was a man occupying a room on the fourth floor, aggressively tearing at the garments of a voluptuous woman who seemed to both resist and embrace him.

They wrestled together for a few minutes before falling into a passionate entanglement.

However, within less than half a minute, the man trembled and faltered.

This esper radiated a bright glow, a physique that was approximately level 40, and astonishingly, he possessed four esper energy orbs within him!

Aside from the formidable Kong Yongjian, James Lone had never encountered anyone with as many esper abilities.

He focused intently on them, catching a fleeting glance of contempt flash across the woman's face before she quickly donned a flirtatious smile.

"Boss Aron, you're really something!"

Boss Aron, full of himself, replied, "Of course!"

The woman leaned in, kissing him. "Are you up for more?"

Aron suddenly seemed awkward, managing to disguise it as he replied, "I've been a bit tired these past few days. You should head back for now; don't let your husband discover anything."

The woman swung her hips, purring, "Don't worry; my deadbeat husband is like a turtle; as long as I bring home food, he won't notice a thing."

"Don't worry; I know what you want!" Aron let out a hearty laugh, wrapping his arm around the woman's slender waist, and casually scribbled down a list on a piece of paper: "5 packs of instant noodles, 5 packs of compressed biscuits, 1 pack of sausages, and 1 box of purified water."

The woman beamed with delight. "Thank you, Boss Aron! Thank you so much!"

After some more flirtation, she sauntered away, flaunting her curves.

Aron laid back in satisfaction, taking a moment to catch his breath.

Before long, a soldier ushered in another woman to his room. "Captain Scott, this girl's name is Rolin; she's 21."

Rolin looked nervously at the man, her voice trembling. "Captain Scott, I was hoping to borrow some food; my son is on the brink of death."

Aron's eyes glimmered hungrily as he grasped her small hand, leering, "Borrowing is fine. What do you have to offer in return?"

The soldier snickered and slipped away.

James Lone grimaced and shifted his gaze.

That guy had no concept of restraint; he was nothing but a waste of potential.

Aron Scott? Could he really be one of the infamous Three Kings?

James Lone listened closely, gathering information about the surroundings.

The 910 Brigade was controlled by an individual named Bruce Scott.

The three most powerful espers were known as the Three Kings.

They were Aron Scott, the "Barbarian King," along with Junior, the "Lightning King," and Masket, the "Blood King."

Those names reeked of being cheap knockoffs, like something straight out of a crude, backwater bandit script.

Moreover, Aron Scott was hardly a "Barbarian King"; he was more akin to a "Lust King."

In just the hour that James Lone's clone monitored, Aron Scott had gone through three different women.

That fool was bound to meet a grisly end thanks to his carnal pursuits.

Behavior like Aron's trickled down to his men, leading to rampant corruption.

Bribes, womanizing, stealing from survivors—it was a chaotic free-for-all.

St. Martin Town had devolved into a bandit den.

James Lone felt deeply disillusioned.

The despair of the apocalypse, coupled with an unreliable leader, meant this group's descent into chaos was even swifter than he imagined.

With such an organization, could they truly hold off the tentacle monster?

James Lone was far from optimistic.

"Hmph, maybe we'll have to run again in no time!" he lamented silently.

But where would he escape to?

He knew next to nothing about the conditions in other cities.

Even if he did, the distance would likely be considerable.

Without the army clearing a path with artillery, traversal would be far more difficult than this escape route.

Unless he could settle the issue of that green giant eye!

James Lone felt a sense of urgency.

His shadow clone did a round through St. Martin Town and soon identified a large house protected by a group of soldiers.

Inside, various illicit trades were taking place, all the participants masked.

James Lone immediately recognized this as a black market managed by the military.

Controlled items such as guns, ammunition, gasoline, diesel, and medications were all up for sale.

James Lone's interest piqued.

There might be esper fruits available for purchase!

The 910 Brigade surely controlled the esper fruits, but their exact location remained a mystery.

Moreover, if he tried to steal the esper fruits outright, the brigade would inevitably become alert, complicating future thefts and possibly leading to conflict.

If he could buy them, it would be much easier.

After all, many resources held little value for him.

As long as he established a stable purchasing channel, he could continually obtain esper fruits.

James Lone quickly made up his mind.

For now, he would attempt to buy some.

When Teresa Taylor arrived, he could see if he could support her in becoming a powerful figure within the 910 Brigade.

If Teresa Taylor gained control, he could harness their strength for large-scale collection of esper fruits.

After a thorough exploration of St. Martin Town, he set out to scout the 910 Brigade compound.

Countless survivors were tirelessly working day and night to erect a wall outlining a square measuring two kilometers on each side, which would enclose the living area for the 910 Brigade.

The management here was clearly stricter than in St. Martin Town.

At least, there were no rampant robberies or murders happening on the main thoroughfares.

Inside the encampment, many survivors were laboriously clearing vegetation, digging pits, and setting up low tents distributed by the military for basic shelter.

Just as James Lone was about to investigate further, he suddenly saw a flash of electricity zipping toward him.

Within that electric bolt was a formidable esper with three abilities.

Most astonishingly, all three of his powers were related to electricity.

This had to be none other than the so-called Lightning King, Junior!

Without hesitation, James Lone cancelled his shadow clone.

Two seconds later, a burst of electricity appeared where the clone had been.

As the electric arc dissipated, it revealed a strikingly handsome, lean young man—indeed, the Lightning King Junior.

His cheeks were flushed with excitement, he wore sunglasses and ear adornments, and his long hair was dyed white, styled into several dreadlocks.

Dressed in an oversized T-shirt and sagging pants, he projected an unwavering hip-hop vibe even amidst the apocalypse.

Junior glanced around curiously. "Where did the guy go?"

Before he could muse further, a few espers rushed over.

"Junior, the Lightning King, where did he run off to?"

None dared approach the crackling energy that radiated from Junior.

He leashed in his power, visibly annoyed. "He was just here and suddenly vanished."

This was the first target to have ever escaped him.

The others were astonished, asking, "He ran that fast?"

"Pfft! Just a little fly, nothing to worry about." Junior dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"Probably some esper adept at fleeing. Let's move; we need to meet up with the crew from the TV station. They say there's a powerful esper among them. Ha! I'm so excited!"

Lightning crackled around Junior's fists as excitement bubbled within him.

Laughter erupted among the group. "Someone's about to get wrecked!"

"Place your bets! I bet he can't last ten seconds!"

"I bet eight seconds!"

"I'll go with fifteen!"

Everyone produced their stacks of green paper representing labor points, eager to wager.

Junior appeared thoroughly entertained by their betting and laughed heartily.

He stepped forward, pulling out a hefty stack of labor point paper, exclaiming, "I'll bet three seconds!"