Jiang Bing ran off to fetch Zhao Yi and Gao Yuxuan.
The two of them came over with eyes gleaming. When they saw Zhou Wang, they immediately asked: “Did your leg muscles evolve?”
“Speed type?”
“No. That’s not it,” Zhou Wang said. “Actually, I control air.”
He thought for a moment, then gave a more precise description: “Airflow.”
When he ran, his ability split the airflow directly in front of him. The air parted to the left and right, flowing around him. Meanwhile, the airflow behind him pushed him forward.
He was essentially being propelled by the air—his own physical exertion was minimal.
Zhao Yi and Gao Yuxuan slapped their palms together, so excited they could barely speak.
“Wind type!”
“I knew there had to be other special categories!”
Zhou Wang asked: “Do you all have superpowers too?”
Jiang Cheng answered: “Only some of us.”
Jiang Cheng looked past Zhou Wang.
He hadn’t come alone—there was a whole group of people trailing behind him.
Half of them were elderly, and half of the elderly were actually old women—and they were all wearing body armor.
Previously, armor had been prioritized for men first, then among men, younger ones first, and among the younger ones, the stronger ones first.
Jixiang Jiayuan had only received 100 sets of armor total. After the disaster ended, many of those had been lost.
If even old women could now wear armor, it was a clear sign of just how desperately short on manpower Jixiang Jiayuan really was.
Jiang Cheng’s earlier phrase “fewer people” had become a tangible reality.
“Miss.” An old woman, seeing Jiang Cheng looking her way, asked, “Little Miss Jiang, are you going to Duomai Duomai today?”
The other old ladies quickly chimed in: “If you’re going, take us along.”
This was the path just inside the east gate—you had to walk several dozen meters further to reach the open courtyard. The elderly men and women craned their necks, peering inside to see how many people the youth apartment complex had this time.
Whether last time or this time, the youth apartment complex was undeniably the strongest fighting force in the area.
Now they were left with only the old and weak—they wanted to latch on.
Jiang Cheng said: “We don’t know what the situation is at Duomai Duomai yet. We want to observe first.”
She thought for a moment and added: “Don’t worry too much about supplies. There should be plenty of empty units where no one came back. If worst comes to worst, you can start by ‘coordinating’ with your neighbors.”
Not “stealing,” not “looting”—”coordinating.”
Even Zhou Wang could agree with this suggestion.
Because everyone understood deep down that in densely populated urban areas, many people would never be coming back.
They now had armor on everyone—several sets had been taken by breaking into other people’s homes.
At a time like this, talk of illegal entry, robbery, or private property went out the window. Everything was decided by necessity, everything was urgent.
Zhou Wang said: “We just came over to talk things over. Our two complexes know each other well—we cooperated last time, and we hope to keep that going this time too.”
Jiang Cheng asked: “How many people total in your complex?”
Zhou Wang sighed: “A little over a hundred.”
Jiang Cheng: “How many are usable?”
Zhou Wang looked back: “They’re all here.”
The elderly men and women didn’t dare speak either, just looked on hopefully.
Among them was a middle school student—clearly one—with downy fuzz on his upper lip. He didn’t dare interrupt either, just listened to the adults talking.
He didn’t seem as steady as Little Huang.
Jiang Cheng asked casually: “What about Little Huang?”
“Haven’t seen him. He should have been at school,” Zhou Wang said. “If that kid were here, he’d definitely come find me. I haven’t seen his mother either—she’s a civil servant working at the development zone government. She probably didn’t come back either.”
The Huang family—all three of them—were people with guts and character. After Old Huang passed away, Zhou Wang had always kept an eye on Little Huang. If Little Huang were home, he wouldn’t be hiding.
Unlike a few households where the elderly had armor but refused to send anyone out—and wouldn’t even hand over the armor.
The people from the youth apartment complex fell silent. They looked at the group with expressions that seemed caught between sympathy and helplessness.
Zhou Wang understood. He said: “We were just hoping that if you go to Duomai Duomai, you’d let us tag along. Just tag along—we’d borrow your protection on the way. Otherwise, with this group of elderly folks, we really can’t manage.”
He pressed his palms together: “Please, everyone—do us a favor.”
Jiang Cheng turned back and exchanged glances with the others.
Interestingly, if it were just Jiang Cheng alone, she could have refused Zhou Wang’s request without hesitation.
But precisely because there were other people around, Jiang Cheng couldn’t be that cold and ruthless.
Because even Song Jingshuo—widely regarded as a social Darwinist and elite egoist—couldn’t bring himself to ignore a group of elderly people.
Everyone who met her gaze gave a slight nod.
Jiang Cheng said: “This time is different from last time. None of us have many people, and everyone basically has food at home. There’s no need to be too anxious. As for Duomai Duomai, we need to observe first before deciding.”
Zhou Wang understood that there was no immediate urgency—he’d come mainly to show goodwill and build rapport.
Jiang Cheng hadn’t agreed, but she hadn’t outright refused either—that was good enough.
The youth apartment residents received them right inside the east gate, with no intention of taking them deeper into the complex. Zhou Wang thanked them repeatedly and led his people back.
Jiang Cheng and the others turned to head back.
Over at the small plaza, some people were still registering, while those who’d finished were already piling up bodies to burn.
But there was a commotion breaking out in one spot.
Everyone went over to see—it was Su Yu.
Everyone had come downstairs wearing their body armor, and Su Yu was wearing her medium-sized set that she’d bought.
But the original owner of the armor had tracked her down and was insisting that Su Yu return it.
Su Yu refused: “I bought this with my own money. The transaction is complete.”
The man said: “I’ll refund you.”
Su Yu said: “I don’t want money.”
The man said: “I’ll give you double!”
This wasn’t about money at all.
Body armor was arguably the greatest invention of the last zombie crisis.
It offered such good protection that once people put it on, they dared to go all-out on offense without holding back. They no longer had to focus so much on defense for fear of injury and infection.
It completely reversed the balance of power between humans and zombies.
By the later stages, people had lost all fear of zombies—and that psychological shift was built on this material foundation.
Su Yu naturally refused again: “I don’t want money!”
Su Yu was a member of the provisional committee, actively participated in various activities, and many people knew her and had some understanding of her personality.
The man changed his approach: “I’m much stronger than you. When we go out to kill zombies, I’ll be far more useful out there than you. This is for everyone’s sake.”
Su Yu hesitated.
There was a chance! The man pressed on: “Besides, you have your protective shield now. Who’s got a shield as awesome as yours? It can save lives in critical moments.”
Su Yu was swayed by his words.
She also felt deep down that her combat ability wasn’t as good as his, and that keeping a set of armor was holding everyone back.
The naive girl was about to take off her armor.
Jiang Bing cursed, “What the hell,” and strode over.
He didn’t expect Jiang Cheng or Song Jingshuo to say anything fair. He knew them too well—knew their temperaments.
To Jiang Cheng and Song Jingshuo, they’d definitely prefer a stronger male fighter wearing armor and fighting alongside them.
That’s just who they were.
But Jiang Bing was different.
People had their circles of closeness. To Jiang Bing, Su Yu was one of “his own.”
He couldn’t let anyone bully her like this.
Seeing Su Yu about to unbuckle her armor, a smile of triumph just starting to form on the man’s face, Jiang Bing stepped in and inserted himself between them: “Hey, what do you think you’re doing! Don’t take it off. What are you doing? You already sold it to her!”
The first “you” was Su Yu; the second was the man.
Jiang Bing was already built like a tank, and his oversized armor made him look even more massive—like a mountain.
He completely shielded Su Yu behind him.
Su Yu wanted to explain, but Jiang Bing wouldn’t let her speak. He directly laid into the man: “You just have to fight a girl for the armor she’s wearing, huh? We’ve got four hundred sets of armor in this complex! Go find a set in someone else’s apartment! Use your head!”
The man said: “But—”
He did know of a few neighbors who had armor and hadn’t come back this time. But that would mean breaking down doors and illegal entry.
“But what? What building are you from? I’ll go with you.” Jiang Bing looked around and spotted someone he knew. “Hey you—bring that crowbar and come with me!”
This was an action Jiang Cheng supported. Armor was far too important in the fight against zombies to sit unused.
“Everyone who doesn’t have armor, find a unit that does,” Jiang Cheng said. “Jiang Bing will lead the team to break down doors. Get all the armor out.”
Once Jiang Cheng spoke, it was essentially “official” approval.
A crowd immediately swarmed around: “I don’t have any.”
“My neighbor next door should have some.”
“I know who has some.”
Jiang Bing led a group of armorless people to go door-to-door looting for armor.
On the plaza, they began burning the bodies.
Master Luo’s body was among them.
Sister Pan finally broke down and cried out loud. Crying was better—the danger was in holding it all in and causing problems.
Manager Wang bustled around, trying to show how useful he was.
Compared to last time, there were far fewer bodies this time.
But the flames were still scorching hot, just as before.
Many people’s mindsets, however, were different now.
Less fear, less grief. No one panicked—they’d all been tempered by experience.
Jiang Cheng’s phone rang again.
She glanced at it—the caller was “Li Feng.”
That was great—Li Feng was still alive.
Jiang Cheng picked up: “Li Feng?”
But the other side hung up.
She called back, and the call was rejected again—clearly not a convenient time to talk.
Jiang Cheng didn’t call again.
The warehouse door of Duomai Duomai was half open.
A zombie had been wandering around inside the warehouse for a while, pacing back and forth near the entrance. Suddenly drawn by noises from outside, it finally squeezed through the half-open door and headed into the shopping area.
The warehouse was cavernous, with shelves reaching eight meters high.
Looking up from below, you could see that even the top shelves were stacked with large bulk packages.
A professional mobile ladder was parked next to one of the shelves. At the top platform, right next to the shelf, there was a gap—everything around it was piled with large packages, but that one spot was empty, creating a void.
From below, you couldn’t see anything unusual.
In reality, at the top of this shelf, the stock clerks had surrounded the edges with goods to block the view. In the middle, there was an open space—not just plastic stools and a folding table, but even a single mattress.
There were boxes of snacks, water, playing cards, a martial arts novel, and two dirty comics.
This was the stock clerks’ secret hideout.
They’d hide here to slack off—when the manager came looking, they’d vanish. If spotted, they’d say they’d gone to the bathroom. In truth, they’d be up there, watching the manager weave through the shelves below, covering their mouths and giggling.
Right now, Guo Jun and Brother Dong were hiding up there. They’d been lying flat on the goods, peeking through a gap with only their eyes showing, watching that zombie—until it finally left the warehouse and went into the shopping area.
The two let out a long sigh of relief and sat down together.
Brother Dong felt like the unluckiest guy in the world.
He knew that after he’d heartlessly taken supplies and abandoned his colleagues back then, he’d never be able to work with them again. So when the manager called him back to work after the disaster, he refused. He’d quit outright.
But at that time, the government had been pressuring businesses to restore logistics immediately and get people’s lives back to normal.
The supermarket was swamped and short-staffed, so his resignation paperwork had never been processed.
Finally, things had slowed down these past few days, and HR called him in to settle his wages.
His parents lived in a rural courtyard on the outskirts, growing vegetables and raising chickens, with farmland around. Low population density—safe.
He’d been doing so well staying in that yard—but he’d just had to come over yesterday to pick up his pay.
And then he got caught in the second zombie virus outbreak.
Brother Dong felt especially guilty, like this was heaven’s punishment for abandoning his colleagues before.
Please don’t let him die here.
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