AFTCKCTCKATD - Chapter 56

Chapter 56

Ji Yanqing suspected he might have developed feelings for Feng Yimo.

These thoughts gnawed at Ji Yanqing, turning the once-delicious vegetables in his mouth to tasteless pulp.

He quickened his pace, devouring the rest in under three minutes.

The moisture in the greens soothed his parched throat, raw from dehydration, offering a fleeting respite to his taut nerves.

Sated, Ji Yanqing didn’t rest. He sampled the dug-up vegetable stumps, confirming the rootless core was just barely palatable. Then, he circled the village’s vegetable patch, pinpointing the approximate location of the young bok choy for tomorrow’s scavenging.

Beyond the village sprawled a vast mountain forest. A car could traverse it in half a day, but on foot, it would be at least a day and a half, maybe two.

His long-term food stores were depleted. For the next two days, leaves would be his only sustenance.

Though the weather was milder now, midday still scorched at over fifty degrees Celsius. These leaves, barely able to keep for two days, would surely wilt by tomorrow.

Calculating their fragile shelf life, Ji Yanqing decided to postpone their departure until morning. This way, he estimated he’d emerge from the mountains by nightfall the day after tomorrow.

Once beyond the mountains, he could seek out new settlements or towns.

He wasn’t traversing the city’s breadth, but veering towards the map’s northeast corner. His current map ended here, leaving the terrain ahead shrouded in uncertainty.

After pinpointing the cabbage’s location, he marked the spots with sticks, a safeguard against a snow-blanketed landscape obscuring his finds come morning. Ji Yanqing returned to the village.

The village was eerily quiet, almost deserted. Only the occasional flicker of movement. Accustomed to swarms of undead, Ji Yanqing strolled through with disarming ease, tension surprisingly absent.

He circled the village once more, swapping his smaller pack for a larger black duffel bag, stuffing in an extra comforter. He also snagged a small saucepan and chopsticks – necessities for the journey.

As he finished, twilight bled across the sky.

With each passing day, the encroaching cold hastened sunset. Once, it was six; now, barely five and the sun was already a faltering ember on the horizon.

Before the heavy snow recommenced, Ji Yanqing hurried back to the fields, gathering more leaves. He kindled a small fire in the fading light, cooked and devoured them quickly, then retired early, stockpiling rest for the arduous trek. Tonight, he wouldn’t sleep in the main room with Feng Yimo and the boys. He sought the solitary refuge of a bedroom, a bed.

Dust lay thick on the long-unoccupied bed, yet it was a sanctuary compared to the harsh wilderness, the biting snow.

From the wardrobe, he retrieved two clean blankets, one for padding, one for cover. Sinking into their softness and warmth, his long-clenched muscles finally yielded to relaxation.

Having settled himself, a reflexive urge tugged at him – to tuck in Ji An and Ji Le. He turned, only to find the space beside him empty, the realization striking him like a physical blow.

He lay back down, a hollow ache blooming in his chest, as if something vital had been surgically removed.

Exhaustion from two days of walking dragged Ji Yanqing into sleep.

Deep in the mountains, silence reigned. Only the howl of wind and snow disturbed the stillness. Zombies were scarce, safety almost absolute.

Yet, Ji Yanqing’s sleep remained fractured. Each time he drifted close to slumber, the faces of Ji An, Ji Le, and Feng Yimo surfaced, unbidden. His mind conjured images of them huddled in the living room, shivering, pitifully cold.

Feng Yimo wouldn’t know how to care for children, a nagging voice whispered in his mind.

He was a Corpse King, after all. ‘Care’ might not even exist in his vocabulary.

Though, Ji An and Ji Le likely didn’t need care. They were Corpse Kings, weren’t they? Feared, invulnerable beings whose hides ignored bullets as if they were less than bug bites.

Lost in this tangled web of thoughts, darkness enveloped Ji Yanqing. He drifted in and out of consciousness until the deepest hours of night finally claimed him.

He slept soundly, yet a primal instinct prickled beneath his sleep, sensing a presence behind him. A body temperature colder than human, exhaled breaths – icy tendrils against his skin.

Groggy, Ji Yanqing instinctively turned, offering the space beside him. Was it Feng Yimo, sneaking back into his bed again?

The thought sparked instant clarity. He’d locked the door. Even Feng Yimo couldn’t enter without a sound.

His mind snapped into focus, but his body remained deceptively still.

Ji Yanqing labored to keep his breathing even, deep, while his senses strained in the darkness.

Something was behind him. Its nose pressed against the back of his head, the frigid exhalation ghosting across his nape, biting as frost.

Eyes slitted open, Ji Yanqing glanced sideways. He lay facing the door, which was still firmly shut.

Wind stirred in the room, carrying the night’s frigid bite.

Wind… the window… was open?

Ji Yanqing’s mind raced, had he locked the window before sleep? The answer remained elusive.

Ordinary zombies couldn’t open windows.

And this village was nearly deserted.

Fear coiled in his gut.

This village was small, barely a hundred, maybe two hundred households. He’d assumed its emptiness was due to scavenging survivors, zombies cleared out long ago.

He hadn’t considered... Awakened Zombies.

A fresh wave of unease washed over him, the swallow in his throat suddenly loud in the silence.

The Awakened Zombie lay right behind him.

It must have spotted them earlier, yet, cunningly, it hadn’t revealed itself, lurking in the woods, observing them until nightfall, waiting for its opportune moment.

Intelligence like this… this Awakened Zombie had evolved for far longer than days, weeks even. Perhaps verging on Corpse King status.

These chilling thoughts hammered through him, the icy breath on his nape sending icy tendrils down his spine. Every nerve ending screamed. His heart hammered against his ribs, threatening to fracture bone.

In the darkness, he edged his hand beneath the covers, a slow, stealthy reach for the axe by the bedside table.

The moment he moved, the presence behind him shifted.

The creature, stilled momentarily by his earlier turn, seemed to confirm his slumber and emitted a low growl from its throat – a guttural purr of anticipation.

That predator’s rumble solidified his certainty: Awakened Zombie.

“Haaa…” The wet sound of a jaw unhinging, slobber dripping, echoed against the back of his head in the dark. The stench of rot, acrid and sharp, filled his nostrils.

As fangs descended, Ji Yanqing ripped the blanket up and flung it backwards, simultaneously driving a brutal kick into the fabric.

The creature, ensnared, tumbled off the bed.

A crash, something skittering across shattered glass in the dark. Then, a bestial roar ripped through the silence, feral and enraged.

“Roar!”

Ji Yanqing gave it no time to strike. Axe wrenched from the bedside table, he swung it down in a wide arc, hacking at the bundled form on the floor.

The creature shrieked, a sharp, agonized sound from within the blanket, thrashing violently.

Just then, the bedroom door splintered inward, kicked off its hinges.

Ji Yanqing didn’t glance back. His gaze remained locked on the thrashing form beneath the blanket. Axe raised high once more.

“Stop!” Ji Le’s childish command sliced through the dark.

The black shadow beneath the blanket froze mid-thrash, as if a pause button had been pressed on its existence.

Ji Yanqing’s axe arced sideways, aimed for the Awakened Zombie’s neck, slamming both neck and head against the wall beside the bed with bone-jarring force.

A deafening crack shattered the silence. Plaster rained down. The Awakened Zombie’s head lolled at an unnatural angle, neck gruesomely severed.

Viscous fluid sprayed outwards, painting the bed and wardrobe in putrid streaks.

A wave of cold, colder than the grave, washed over him. Before Ji Yanqing could react, a crippling weariness slammed into him, dragging his eyelids shut, his body collapsing limply to the side.

Caught by Feng Yimo’s arms, the last thing Ji Yanqing registered before succumbing to the overwhelming tide of sleep, was an unwavering certainty: he had locked the window.

And then, a final, chilling realization bloomed in the encroaching darkness: the Awakened Zombie had poisoned him.

His first encounter with a venomous undead.

Ji Yanqing awoke again to the first weak rays of morning, just past five. Dawn had broken, the heavy snow ceased, and the sky above was an impossible, pristine blue.

He lay on the sofa, cocooned in a warm, downy quilt.

Not the blanket from the previous night. This one was new, smelling faintly of lavender.

“Papa.” Ji An, who had been keeping vigil, darted forward the instant Ji Yanqing’s eyes fluttered open.

Ji Le, hearing the movement, also hurried closer, his smaller feet padding softly on the floorboards.

Reaching the sofa, Ji An and Ji Le didn’t launch themselves into Ji Yanqing’s arms. Instead, they halted cautiously, a half-meter distance maintained, a reserved space held between them.

Watching their hesitant approach, wanting to rush forward but holding back, a pang resonated in Ji Yanqing’s chest. As he sat up, he averted his gaze, a subtle shift in his posture.

“Papa, does it hurt…?” Ji Le’s small voice, laced with concern, ventured cautiously.

“…No,” Ji Yanqing mumbled, reaching for the axe leaning against the sofa and rising to his feet.

Seeing him grasp the axe, Ji An and Ji Le’s faces paled instantly. They recoiled, stumbling back a step.

Ji Yanqing saw their reaction, his lips twitching almost imperceptibly.

His gaze swept around the room, Feng Yimo absent. He headed towards the bedroom he’d occupied the previous night.

The splintered bedroom door hung askew. As he pushed it open, a faint, putrid stench mingled with an icy blast of air, assaulting his senses.  Ji Yanqing reflexively clamped a hand over his mouth and nose.

The bed, the wardrobe door, the walls—all splattered with streaks of greenish-blue fluid. A section of wall had crumbled, exposing raw red brick beneath. One windowpane was shattered. In the shadowed recess between the bed and the wall, lay a corpse, serpentine and scaled, its body unnaturally elongated.

The window, not perfectly sealed, had offered the Awakened Zombie its entry point. The imperfect seal had also limited the initial dose of venom. Ji Yanqing nudged the severed head on the floor with the toe of his axe.

The head mirrored the body, distinctly serpentine, even down to the forked tongue lolling from its jaws.

This Awakened Zombie, it seemed, had not evolved for brute strength. Its physical power was clearly limited, explaining its stealthy, nocturnal attack.

Ji Yanqing retrieved his axe. Turning, he found Ji An and Ji Le standing in the doorway, their gazes fixated on the dead Awakened Zombie, gulping audibly.

Ji An and Ji Le, with their porcelain skin, chubby cheeks, delicate noses, and rosy lips, appeared utterly cherubic, impossibly innocent. Yet, they were fixated on a corpse, salivating as if presented with a delectable pastry.

Ji Yanqing abruptly looked away, a shiver crawling down his spine. He consciously avoided looking, yet the image seared itself into his mind. A sudden, profound chill seeped into his bones, leaving him feeling as if he’d been plunged into an ice bath.

Even with Feng Yimo’s assurances that Ji An and Ji Le were Corpse Kings—three-times evolved Corpse Kings, superior even to their kind—even witnessing them scattering ordinary zombies with a mere glance, the reality had remained abstract, unreal. Until this moment.

Ji Yanqing moved, brushing past Ji An and Ji Le.

Their attention snapped back to him instantly. They hurried to keep pace, their small feet pattering behind him.

Ji Le instinctively reached out, his tiny hand grasping Ji Yanqing’s trouser leg.

Sensing the tug, Ji Yanqing froze mid-stride.

Realizing his action, Ji Le snatched his hand back, stepping back, his gaze lifting to Ji Yanqing’s face. Seeing Ji Yanqing’s pallor, his own face mirrored the change, paling drastically.

Ji Yanqing rummaged through the house, his search leading him to the kitchen where he discovered a glass jar, likely once used for chili peppers. He cleaned it thoroughly.

Tearing off a strip of cloth from his clothing, he muffled his nose and mouth, venturing back into the bedroom. With painstaking care, he extracted nearly half a jar of the still-wet, greenish-blue blood from the Awakened Zombie’s carcass.

Emerging from the bedroom once more, an overwhelming drowsiness descended, his eyelids feeling leaden, each step faltering.

Capping the jar, he went to the doorway and, using snow from outside as insulation through his clothing, wiped away any residue from the jar’s exterior.  He then wrapped the jar in layer upon layer of plastic bags, securing it in his backpack.

The liquid was potent to humans; it might prove useful against zombies too. Perhaps, someday.

Having completed this grim task, Ji Yanqing rested briefly, letting the initial wave of fatigue subside. He then grabbed plastic bags and a kitchen knife, heading towards the vegetable patch at the village entrance.

He located the spots he’d marked the previous afternoon, ready to excavate the remaining vegetables.  He arrived to find the snow cover, a good ten centimeters thick, already carefully brushed away from the vegetable stumps, revealing the tender leaves and stems beneath.

Ji Yanqing stared at the tiny finger imprints in the snow for a long, silent moment.

He harvested two full bags of vegetables, and dug up another root stump. As he turned back towards the village, he spotted three figures silhouetted against the distant houses, watching him.

Feng Yimo had returned. And the village, now, was devoid of any standing zombies.

Back in the village, Ji Yanqing cooked a portion of the harvested greens for breakfast using the small saucepan.

Eating alone at the table, he stole glances. Ji An and Ji Le’s small hands, all four of them, were flushed red, like tiny radishes, from the cold. Even Feng Yimo’s hands carried the same chilled hue.

He finished the tasteless vegetables in his bowl, packed the remainder into his backpack, and set off into the rising sun.

Beyond the village lay a vast, untamed mountain forest, the terrain treacherous, ancient trees, so immense it would take dozens of people to encircle their trunks, dominated the landscape.

Whether through mutation or their inherent nature, some trees had grown to gargantuan proportions, their trunks so swollen they had split open. The irregular fissures in their bark resembled gaping maws, leering mouths in perpetual, silent laughter.

Staring at them for too long, Ji Yanqing even began to imagine he could hear a low, unsettling chuckle emanating from the ancient wood.

Such colossal trunks naturally supported dense, overarching canopies. Walking beneath them, the forest’s somber shade blurred the lines between day and night.

Learning from his previous disorientation in the woods, Ji Yanqing paused frequently, meticulously checking his bearings. The method worked well initially, but by afternoon, it began to fail him.

The deeper he ventured, the more indistinguishable the surrounding trees became. Soon, he found himself struggling to discern forward from backward.

Fearing disorientation, before resting for the night, he marked the surrounding trees, ensuring a visual guide for the morning.

Awakening the next day, Ji Yanqing’s apprehension proved well-founded. He was indeed losing his sense of direction.

The longer he struggled to orient himself, the more insistent the gnawing feeling that he had already strayed off course, even when he spotted his own markings from the night before.

This uneasy certainty, coupled with a growing unease about the path ahead, tightened his jaw as he pressed onward.

By midday, the feeling of unease had intensified, bordering on despair. He’d intended to rest during the hottest two hours, but the anxiety drove him onward. After a quick meal, he resumed his trek.

At half past five in the afternoon, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, a small forestry hut emerged from the trees in the distance. Ji Yanqing released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Only then did he notice the sheen of cold sweat covering his body, soaking his hair.

The hut was devoid of zombies. Signs of human habitation marked the interior, evidence that someone had lived there after the outbreak. But, judging by the scarcity of supplies, whoever had stayed had likely left months ago, driven away by dwindling food and water.

Ji Yanqing circled the hut, confirming the absence of zombies, and decided to spend the night. Tomorrow, he would venture out once more.

That evening, he ate the last of the slightly off-tasting vegetables, and retired to bed early.

The following morning, as soon as the snow subsided, Ji Yanqing set out again.

The further north they travelled, the heavier and deeper the snow became. In many places, a single step could plunge one to the knee. Ji Yanqing, recalling instructions from some forgotten memory, began fashioning makeshift snowshoes from branches.

Ji An and Ji Le mimicked his actions, but their small hands and clumsy fingers struggled with the task. After much fumbling, they had little to show for their efforts.

Seeing Ji Yanqing ready to move on, they could only scramble to follow.

Being so small, their legs were short. Each step plunged them thigh-deep into the snow, their progress agonizingly slow. The four-person group quickly strung out, spaced far apart.

Feng Yimo, finally registering their struggle, doubled back, scooped up Ji An and Ji Le, one under each arm, and resumed his relentless pace.

By nine in the morning, the snow had fully melted. It was past two in the afternoon when Ji Yanqing finally glimpsed the city in the distance.

Unfed since the previous day, and having walked since dawn, Ji Yanqing was lightheaded with hunger, his throat scratchy and dry.

The city was vast, its outer edges comprised of older districts, less developed, but sprawling nonetheless. It stretched endlessly, a sprawling urban blanket. The inner city alone likely housed tens of thousands, perhaps even millions.

Entering the city limits, Ji Yanqing sought higher ground, a vantage point to survey the layout. Roughly pinpointing the location of the livelier commercial streets, he made for them with renewed urgency.

Avoiding major supermarkets, he chose a quieter, less congested street, reasoning that it would be safer.

Using sound to lure any lurking zombies to one end of the street, Ji Yanqing circled back through the building’s rear alleys, emerging on the other side of the street, quickly ducking into a small convenience store.

The store’s shelves had been long since emptied, the floor littered with debris. Ji Yanqing glanced around cursorily, then headed straight for the staff office behind the counter.

He immediately encountered zombies. Three of them, former employees it seemed, had sought refuge there, with predictable results.

Ji Yanqing swiftly dispatched the trio, then rummaged through the back storeroom.

The convenience store’s storage was small and already ransacked. Ji Yanqing searched every box, finally unearthing two jars of fruit preserves and a few packets of kimchi.

The fruit preserves held precious liquid. He pried open one jar immediately, gulping down the syrup, relief flooding his parched throat.

After the water, he devoured the chunks of yellow fruit, then found a corner to collapse in, letting weariness wash over him, pulling him under.

He slept soundly, right there in the storeroom, amongst the three zombie corpses.

The next day, Ji Yanqing awoke to find a large plastic bag of food at his feet. It contained sunflower seeds, fruit jellies, and bread.

He looked up. Feng Yimo and the children, the trio, watched him with anxious eyes.

They must have scoured the entire street while he slept.

Ji Yanqing ignored the bag of provisions. He opened the remaining jar of fruit preserves, ate the fruit, and packed the syrup and kimchi into his backpack. He then left the storeroom.

The zombies he’d lured away the previous day hadn’t yet returned. Ji Yanqing seized the opportunity, searching the nearby shops.

The adjacent stores weren’t food vendors. Feng Yimo and the children had already been through them the previous night. Almost nothing remained. But luck was on his side: in a clothing store, inside the cashier’s drawer, he discovered a large bag of walnuts.

Likely snacks stashed away by an employee.

He pocketed the walnuts and continued his trek through the city.

He pushed onwards towards the city center, eventually leaving the old districts behind and entering a bustling commercial thoroughfare.

At the heart of the thoroughfare was a major intersection, a crossroads around which various shops clustered.

Clothing, shoes, food dominated the storefronts. Clothing and shoe stores stood untouched, but the eateries had been picked clean countless times.

To the left of the intersection, an open space stretched out. Beside it stood a sprawling supermarket. Its basement level was a parking garage, the ground floor sold fresh produce, the first floor daily necessities and packaged foods, the second and third floors clothing and restaurants, the fourth floor gaming arcade and cinema.

Ji Yanqing found a building across the street, climbed onto its rooftop, and gazed towards the supermarket.

The supermarket was immense, and in its bustling city center location, it likely teemed with zombies. Inside and out, they probably numbered twenty or thirty thousand, maybe more.

He turned back. Three pairs of eyes, the trio’s, stared back at him.

Feng Yimo’s dark eyes were intense, but held no cold malice, only a deep, unsettling confusion and bewilderment.

Ji An and Ji Le’s eyes were red-rimmed, tear streaks staining their faces. They looked like frightened, trembling rabbits.

Ji Yanqing sighed softly. “Do you… want to help?”

At his words, all three pairs of eyes lit up instantly.

“Yes!”

“Mmm.”

Ji An and Ji Le stepped forward eagerly, then hesitated, not daring to approach too closely.

Ji Yanqing gestured towards the supermarket across the street. “There should still be food inside that supermarket.”

Ji An and Ji Le both nodded, their eyes locked on Ji Yanqing’s face.

He’d been silent with them for days, rejecting their offerings. Hearing him speak to them again, willingly, their eyes welled with fresh tears of relief and hope.

They desperately wanted to avoid further displeasing him, biting their lips to suppress any sound.

“You can control zombies?” Ji Yanqing asked, looking at Ji Le.

Ji Le nodded his small head vehemently.

After a moment’s pause, Ji Yanqing addressed Feng Yimo first. “The supermarket is huge. We can’t be sure if all the zombies will come out. Someone needs to go inside and check.”

Feng Yimo inclined his head in agreement.

Finally, Ji Yanqing turned to Ji An, who clutched his clothes anxiously. “You stay out here, protect him.” He indicated Ji Le.

Ji Yanqing looked back at Ji Le.

His understanding of Corpse Kings was limited, but he could discern that Ji Le seemed to have evolved towards intellect, while Ji An leaned towards brute strength.

Leaving Ji Le alone to face a zombie horde made him uneasy.

“I’ll protect my brother,” Ji An declared eagerly.

Ji Yanqing bit his tongue, suppressing any emotion that might betray him. “Okay, is that the plan then?”

Ji An and Ji Le nodded at once. They glanced at Feng Yimo, and when he nodded too, they took each other’s hands and dashed towards the stairwell, taking the lead.

They no longer needed human food, but Ji Yanqing did. And they were powerful now. They could help Ji Yanqing find lots of food.

Maybe, when Ji Yanqing was full and satisfied, he wouldn’t be angry with them anymore.

Ji Yanqing remained on the rooftop, watching them.

Fifteen minutes later, the zombies that had been aimlessly wandering the intersection seemed to answer some silent call, suddenly converging and shuffling rapidly down one of the side streets. In under three minutes, the open space before the supermarket, the heart of the intersection, was eerily empty.

Two minutes later, the trio appeared in the open space.

Ji An held Ji Le’s hand. Both children stood rigid with fear in the empty space.

Ji Le, small frame trembling with fear, faced the supermarket’s entrance, steeling himself. Moments later, figures began to pour out of the supermarket doors, an unending stream of zombies.

Faced with the zombie horde he had summoned, Ji Le recoiled a step, instinctive terror gripping him. Instantly, Ji An, though barely six months older, stepped protectively in front of his brother, a small shield against the encroaching horror.

As countless figures surged outwards, Feng Yimo, clad in his signature trench coat, strode purposefully into the supermarket.

From his vantage point on the rooftop, Ji Yanqing watched the three figures intently.

Only when he was certain that the summoned zombies were bypassing the visibly distressed Ji An and Ji Le, only when Feng Yimo had disappeared inside the supermarket, and only when his own eyes began to burn with unshed tears, did he finally turn away, fleeing down the stairs, running in the opposite direction of the supermarket.

Feng Yimo and the children were Corpse Kings, humanity’s natural enemies. Reason dictated that he should kill them. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Ji An and Ji Le hadn’t chosen to become what they were. In fact, the ones with the most right to hate, to seek vengeance, should have been them.

They had done nothing wrong, mere children too weak to resist when humans had brutally killed them. They were only three. How terrified they must have been…

And Feng Yimo…

Still running, Ji Yanqing glanced down at the axe handle Feng Yimo had crafted for him.

He didn’t know what Feng Yimo had been like before, whether he had killed humans in the past. But since their paths had crossed, Feng Yimo hadn’t harmed a single member of his survival team. He had, in fact, been remarkably helpful.

In Ji Yanqing’s mind, Feng Yimo was less a bloodthirsty, savage Corpse King and more a clueless, otherworldly being.

He was ignorant of so much human nuance, seemingly indifferent to everyone and everything. Yet, when addressed directly, seriously, he listened…

Even with someone as treacherous as Li Xiao, a simple ‘no’ from Ji Yanqing had been enough to instantly sheathe Feng Yimo’s claws.

He was like a large dog, snarling and fierce towards strangers, but docile and obedient towards him.

Sprinting through the city streets, Ji Yanqing expertly dodged a stray figure, darting around a corner. He was about to increase his pace further when he spotted the treeline beyond the city’s edge. Just then, a black shape hurtled towards him, directly down the alley.

They met in the narrow alleyway. In that instant, Ji Yanqing’s heart leaped into his throat. Feng Yimo? Had he followed?

Ji Yanqing instinctively skidded to a halt. Before he could fully regain his balance, the black shape opposite him reacted as if electrocuted, leaping back with frantic energy, then spinning around and bolting back the way it had come, a blur of panicked motion.

The black shape moved with incredible speed, its paws churning the ground for purchase.

Ji Yanqing blinked, momentarily stunned. When he looked again, the black shape had already reached the building across the alley and vanished around the corner.

Ji Yanqing recognized it then. It was a dog. A large, black dog.

Ji Yanqing frowned. Where had a dog come from?

In this ravaged world, humans struggled to survive, let alone domestic animals. qq: Nonono, I go by Tokyo Jungle logic. Animals will take over the world! And one day I’ll manage to beat Tokyo Jungle’s story mode… One day…

Confusion gnawed at him. Yet, amidst the confusion, a flicker of familiarity sparked. The black dog… it seemed vaguely familiar. Had he seen it somewhere before?

He glanced back towards the direction the dog had fled, then, dismissing the thought, resumed his frantic dash towards the city’s edge.

Leaving the city behind, re-entering the relative safety of the forest, Ji Yanqing cast one last, lingering look back at the sprawling urban wasteland, then pressed onward, running.

He ran relentlessly, following a constant trajectory. He only paused when he encountered a town needing scavenging for food and water, or when nightfall brought with it impassable snow. Even the scorching midday heat failed to make him stop.

He ran for nearly ten days straight, until his body screamed in protest, every step an agonizing effort. Only then, in a small town he stumbled upon, did he finally stop.

Dragging his body, feeling as if his bones were about to crumble, he forced down some scavenged food, swallowing it without tasting. He found an empty house on the town’s outskirts, collapsed inside, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He slept for nearly two full days. It was the afternoon of the second day when gnawing hunger, so intense it weakened his limbs, finally forced him to venture out in search of food.

This town was large. Awakened Zombies and Corpse Kings likely lurked within its depths. Most survival teams dared not penetrate its heart, confining themselves to the outskirts. This meant the buildings along the town’s edge had been thoroughly looted, picked bare.

Ji Yanqing searched over a dozen buildings, finding nothing edible. He had no choice but to shift his focus to the vegetable fields outside the town.

The knowledge that bok choy was edible seemed widespread. But as long as they hadn’t uprooted the entire plant, he might still find some leftover leaves, root stumps—something.

Backpack slung over his shoulder, axe in hand, Ji Yanqing hunched over, weaving his way through the snow-dusted fields.

He had to pause every few steps, his body pushed to its absolute limit by the days of relentless travel.

Nearly half an hour passed, his search yielding nothing, before he finally spotted them: a few forlorn bok choy stumps, the upper portions already harvested, leaving only the root clusters.

He lacked the energy to build a fire and cook. He sliced off some leaves with his knife, popping them straight into his mouth. Uncooked, the cabbage leaves held a faint, sweet freshness, laced with the subtle, sour tang of snow.

Ignoring his initial revulsion, Ji Yanqing sat right there in the field and ate his fill in one go.

Sated, he didn’t immediately leave. Instead, he remained seated in the cabbage field, lost in thought.

He’d considered returning to Xia Shen Shu and the others, but ultimately dismissed the idea. He couldn’t be sure if Feng Yimo and the children would follow him.

His escape might have already angered them. If he returned, and Feng Yimo, in his anger, took it out on Xia Shen Shu’s group…

He was far enough away from Feng Yimo now, far enough that even if they wanted to pursue, they likely wouldn’t find him. A sigh of relief escaped him, yet the gaping void in his chest, the sensation of something carved away, felt all the more raw and empty.

He’d initially claimed Ji An and Ji Le were his children to avoid trouble. But as time passed, as they spent days together, he had genuinely come to see them as his own.

They walked hand-in-hand, always trotting obediently behind him, their small forms perpetually in his sight whenever he turned back.

They were heartbreakingly well-behaved, their voices piping up, calling him “Papa.”

And Feng Yimo… Ji Yanqing suspected he might have developed feelings for Feng Yimo.

Feng Yimo was an enigma. His dark eyes were perpetually cold and detached, seemingly unconcerned with anyone or anything in the world. Yet, whenever Ji Yanqing looked, those eyes focused on him, only him.

Slowly, subtly, he felt himself ensnared by that gaze, drawn to the feeling of being the sole focus, even amidst a world in chaos. He’d grown accustomed to the silent presence shadowing his every move, a constant reassurance of protection, no matter the danger.

He must be losing his mind, Ji Yanqing thought with a bitter self-deprecation.

Falling for a man was one thing, but falling for a Corpse King? That was another level of madness entirely.

Ji Yanqing remained in the cabbage field for a long time, until his legs were numb, until the food he’d eaten seeped warmth back into his weary body.

As twilight began to paint the sky, knowing he couldn’t linger, Ji Yanqing slung his backpack over his shoulder, axe in hand, and rose.

He turned towards the city, heading back to the building he’d previously occupied.

Lost in contemplation of his next move, three figures suddenly sprinted towards him from the city outskirts.

They moved rapidly. The instant Ji Yanqing caught sight of them from the corner of his eye, his heart hammered against his ribs. Blood surged through his veins, flooding his brain.

He turned his head, focus sharpening. When he realized the approaching figures weren’t Feng Yimo, Ji An, and Ji Le, the frantic hammering in his chest abruptly ceased, leaving behind a chilling emptiness.

The trio running towards him were led by a boy, no older than thirteen or fourteen. Prolonged malnutrition had rendered him skin and bones, his face a mottled canvas of pale and flushed, a sickly, unsettling sight.

He was running for his life, pursued by two zombies.

Bursting from the buildings into the cabbage field, the boy’s eyes widened as he registered Ji Yanqing’s sudden appearance. For a fleeting moment, he faltered, then his voice cracked out, urgent. “Run!”

Ji Yanqing remained rooted to the spot, watching with detached amusement as the boy was chased through the cabbage field like a startled rabbit.

Since forming his survival team, it had been a long time since he’d witnessed the pathetic spectacle of someone fleeing from mere ordinary zombies.

As he observed the chaotic chase, a twinge of self-reflection pricked at him. Had he been corrupted by Xia Shen Shu’s cynical influence?

“Run, damn it!” The boy yelled again, dodging clumsily through the rows of cabbages, still somehow finding breath to warn Ji Yanqing.

Seeing Ji Yanqing still immobile, seeing the boy was rapidly approaching, desperation etched on his face, he stretched out a hand, reaching for Ji Yanqing, intending to drag him to safety.

Ji Yanqing easily sidestepped the outstretched hand. He moved forward, axe flashing. A swift arc, and the skull of one of the zombies pursuing the boy shattered with a sickening crunch.

Turning his head, Ji Yanqing retreated a step, evading the lunge of the remaining zombie. As the creature stumbled past, missing its target, he reversed his axe, bringing it down again, another skull crushed.

Dispatching both zombies, Ji Yanqing flicked the gore from his axe, then turned to face the aftermath.

The boy he’d just rescued had scrambled to hide behind a nearby crop support, his eyes wide, almost bulging, fixated on the two zombie corpses sprawled on the field.

Ji Yanqing ignored him, turning back towards the buildings. He was going back to the town.

“Hey, you…” A youthful voice, cracking with adolescence, called out from behind him.

Ji Yanqing didn’t look back.

“How did you do that?” The boy had caught up, the initial shock giving way to breathless excitement.

Reaching the town outskirts again, Ji Yanqing headed towards a particular building. Twilight was deepening rapidly, the threat of snow heavy in the air. He needed shelter.

“What’s your name? Why are you alone out here?” The boy’s questions tumbled out, rapid-fire.

Ji Yanqing re-entered the building he’d slept in before, climbing through the window.

The boy hesitated for a moment, then followed.

Ji Yanqing didn’t stop him.

The moment he registered the boy’s still-childish features, a stark image of Su Luo flashed in his mind.

Su Luo, too, had been thirteen or fourteen, painfully thin.

Su Luo could have lived.

“Are you alone? You’re really strong. Hey, want to join my survival team?” The boy persisted, his voice brimming with eager anticipation.

Ji Yanqing paused, turning back. “Your survival team?”

This scrawny, still-growing kid, barely more than a child himself—he had a survival team?

“Yeah!” The boy puffed out his chest, radiating an almost comical self-importance. “I’m the strongest one in our team. They all listen to me. What I say goes.”

Ji Yanqing raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. So strong, yet he’d just been chased through a cabbage field by two basic zombies?

“How many?”

The boy held up five fingers.

“Fifty?”

“Five!”

Ji Yanqing fell silent.

Well, five was… something. Another push, and they’d almost reach double digits.

“Add me.”

He’d have to be included in that count, then.

“Okay, with you, that’s six.”

Ji Yanqing remained silent, shrugging off his backpack onto the sofa, indicating he was settling in for the night.

“Seriously, man, join us? It’s dangerous alone out here. Sleeping alone, no one to keep watch, super unsafe.” The boy’s tone shifted, earnest and sincere.

Ji Yanqing paused, his hand hovering over the backpack straps.

Despite the boy’s incessant chatter, this particular point resonated.

Since striking out on his own, he’d barely slept, not unless he felt absolutely secure. Even then, his sleep was fragmented, constantly punctuated by jolts awake, fear of an unseen zombie creeping in.

Towns offered some semblance of security, with doors and windows to barricade.

But in the wilderness, his only shelter was a makeshift snow tarp. Even deep in the desolate mountains, true rest remained elusive.

The boy sensed Ji Yanqing’s wavering resolve. “Come on, I’ll take you to meet them. What do you have to lose? Just take a look.”

Ji Yanqing hesitated for a moment, then hoisted his backpack back on.

“This way!” Beaming, seeing Ji Yanqing’s agreement, the boy’s earlier apprehension vanished completely. He turned, leading the way back towards the window.

The boy’s team also resided on the town’s edge, though a considerable distance from Ji Yanqing’s current location.

They walked along the outskirts, twilight deepening to full darkness, a walk that stretched for over ten minutes before the boy finally stopped before a building.

“Here we are.” The boy led the way to the front door. He knocked, solemnly, paused, then knocked again, repeating the ritual three times before finally ceasing.

Ji Yanqing watched the elaborate knocking sequence, inwardly amused and bewildered. As if zombies could respect a knock.

Then again, he reconsidered. Awakened Zombies and Corpse Kings might be capable of knocking. Though, against those, a flimsy wooden door was utterly meaningless anyway.

The door creaked open, revealing a man in his sixties. He looked like he’d lived comfortably before the outbreak, that former life sustaining him through the months of hardship. Though worn and weary, he retained a certain resilience.

A little girl, no older than seven or eight, clung to his side.

The door opened wider. Seeing the unfamiliar figure of Ji Yanqing, the little girl instantly darted behind her grandfather, hiding.

“This is…” The man who’d opened the door noticed Ji Yanqing too, his gaze questioning.

“I met him in town. He’s thinking about joining our team, so I brought him back to meet you all.” The boy, bursting with pride, stepped inside.

Hearing the conversation from the doorway, several figures stood up from their places on the floor of the sparsely furnished living room, their attention drawn to Ji Yanqing.

Ji Yanqing stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over the occupants.

Besides the elderly man and the little girl, the room held a young woman, maybe twenty or so, a middle-aged man with an injured leg, his face gaunt and pale, and a boy around ten years old.

Five people. The elderly, the weak, the sick, the young—a team defined by vulnerability. No wonder the boy was the one scavenging for food.

“I brought food!” The boy announced, rummaging through his backpack, producing a packet of biscuits. The biscuits were palm-sized, surprisingly thick, though half the packaging was plastic filler.

The sight of the biscuits sparked a wave of near-audible swallowing sounds from the room’s occupants, their hunger evident after who knew how long. They all edged closer.

The boy distributed the biscuits, one to each person. Hesitantly, he glanced at Ji Yanqing, then, steeling himself, decided to offer Ji Yanqing one as well.

Ji Yanqing watched the offered sandwich cookie, but didn’t take it.

“How did you all end up together?” Ji Yanqing asked.

Seeing Ji Yanqing refuse his biscuit, the boy happily pocketed it for himself. “We were in a big survival team before. But some of them were real scumbags, getting grabby, handsy. So me and them had a fight, and we left, went our own way.”

The elderly man, having broken off half a biscuit for his granddaughter, glanced at the axe in Ji Yanqing’s hand. “That team, they just didn’t want us old and sick ones. Said we were just mouths to feed, useless. That kid’s a softie, so he left with us.”

Ji Yanqing’s gaze flickered to the young woman in the team, and he understood instantly.

“I couldn’t stand them!” The biscuit boy declared, indignant, mid-chew.

Ji Yanqing found a place to sit, settling in, “What are your plans now?”

With this team, their composition so fragile, surviving another ten days felt improbable.

“We’re going to find a bigger survival team,” the boy announced, his voice suddenly energized. He’d divided his remaining biscuit equally, handing out the tiny slivers to everyone. “And join them.”

Ji Yanqing said nothing. Realistically, no established team would want their group.

“You’ve heard of ‘Sunward,’ right?”

Ji Yanqing blinked, a flicker of recognition. “…Sunward?”

“‘Facing the sun, moving toward the light’, that Sunward.”

Ji Yanqing remained silent.

“Sunward is amazing. They’re a team that can actually take down Awakened Zombies. Our old leader told us they hung the Awakened Zombies they killed up on the walls. Tons of teams in the area saw them.”

“And I heard if you join, they give you a gun, and all the food you can eat.”

“…It’s not that good.” A bitter taste rose in Ji Yanqing’s throat.

“It’s true! Don’t you believe it. Sunward’s different from other teams. They’re all about loyalty, about sticking together. Their leader’s an awesome guy, a real hero. Treats his team like family. Always puts himself on the line first, and when they find food, drinks, guns, it’s always his team that gets it first.”

“Didn’t you hear, they lost their leader a while back? After that, their team just went crazy. They went to war with ‘Split Sky,’ a full-on brawl, a hundred of them against four hundred-plus Split Sky guys. And they destroyed Split Sky, sent them running with their tails between their legs!”

“Totally thrashed them, sent them crying home to mama. And they chased after them, too, hunting them down, wanting to wipe them out completely. They went berserk.”

“ Split Sky doesn’t even exist anymore, they’re gone, wiped out.”

“Rumor has it, Sunward’s still in that city now, searching like crazy for their leader. Been at it for almost a month, they say.”

“I’m telling you, Sunward is the biggest team around here, second only to Crescent Moon, three hundred strong!”

“Our old team, they always wanted to find Sunward, join them.”

“We’re going to head over there too. I wonder if they’ll let me be a captain when we join. If not, that’s okay too, as long as they give me a gun.”

“Hey, why aren’t you saying anything?” Having rattled on non-stop, his throat dry, the boy finally noticed Ji Yanqing’s silence, looking at him with puzzled curiosity.

Ji Yanqing remained silent, head lowered, his eyes suddenly burning hot with unshed tears.

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