Transfer Again

March 10th.

The temperature had risen to above ten degrees Celsius—highly unusual.

There was still no sun in the sky, and the air felt heavy and oppressive, entirely unsuitable for physical activity.

Normal people found it difficult to breathe even with light exertion.

The zombie outbreak had begun to show real scale.

When Ping Chengcheng woke up that morning, the first thing she heard was the relentless sound of gunfire. She and Song Ning walked out to the balcony and looked toward the front gate. There, nearly a hundred zombie corpses were already piled up.

This was supposed to be the edge of City S—how could so many zombies have gathered here?

A bad feeling crept up in Ping Chengcheng’s heart.

“Big sister, maybe we should send Wu Sheng to check on that…”

“That zombie horde Huang Zhong mentioned—I have a feeling something’s about to happen.”

Song Ning nodded and immediately went to find Wu Sheng, instructing him to go fully armed and scout the situation.

With that arranged, Song Ning took Wu Sheng’s place guarding the gate.

Ping Chengcheng, meanwhile, claimed she had something to do and made her way to the storage room where Huang Zhong was imprisoned. From outside, she could already hear pitiful moaning.

“Old Eight, come on, have mercy! Just sneak me outta here!”

“That woman didn’t even show up all night—maybe she’s already forgotten!”

Old Eight shook his head. “No way. If I let you out and she comes for me, then what?”

Huang Zhong’s furious voice followed: “Old Eight, I treated you well, didn’t I?! You—! You son of a—!”

Before he could finish, another pained wail rang out. It sounded like a eunuch being castrated. But in Ping Chengcheng’s ears, it was the most beautiful music in the world.

She pushed open the door and glanced around the room.

Huang Zhong was strung up in a crucifix position, completely naked and dripping in blood. Carved into his chest with a utility knife were the words: I am Miss Song’s dog.

Old Eight spotted the girl and quickly forced a smile of flattery. “Ah—sis, you’re here! Look, I tortured him all night.”

Ping Chengcheng nodded with satisfaction. “Not bad.”

“But there’s a problem.”

Old Eight felt his stomach drop. Had he done something wrong?

Ping Chengcheng took the utility knife from his hand. “He’s not worthy of being my sister’s dog~”

Hmph. Trash, that’s all he was.

Huang Zhong trembled in terror at the sound of her slowly approaching steps. “Miss! I’m begging you—please! Don’t—!”

“Begging? Hah. Worthless.”

Her blade moved with the precision of a restaurant chef, slicing a thin patch of skin from Huang Zhong’s chest.

“Much better without that text. Easier on the eyes.”

She looked up at Huang Zhong, who was now barely conscious from the pain. “Hungry?”

Huang Zhong’s body spasmed uncontrollably. In his haze, he thought he heard his great-grandmother asking if he was hungry.

He broke down sobbing. “Waaa—I—I’m hungry! Grandma… I want food…”

The girl burst into laughter.

“Alright then—Grandma will feed her good grandson something tasty, okay?”

“Okay!”

Her pale, delicate fingers suddenly gripped his cheeks hard, forcing his mouth open. She shoved something inside—bloody, chewy, and rubbery like tripe.

Huang Zhong chewed a few times and swallowed. As his head cleared, he suddenly realized what he’d just done.

“You… urp!!“

A wave of nausea surged up. He vomited violently, chunks of half-digested flesh splattering the floor.

“You… you’re not human… You’re a monster!” Huang Zhong screamed, his empty, blinded eye sockets trembling with rage and despair. He struggled with all his might, but bound in midair, he could only spin in place like a wind-up doll.

“Heh…” Ping Chengcheng’s eyes went cold. A red light flashed in her pupils.

“Die.”

She drew the handgun from her waist and pulled the trigger without hesitation, ending his life in a clean shot.

Blood sprayed in a fan across the back wall.

Old Eight collapsed into a heap against the corner, his lips trembling uncontrollably.

When Ping Chengcheng’s eyes turned toward him, he instantly froze like a chicken startled by thunder.

A quiet trickling sound followed.

The girl frowned in displeasure. “Am I that scary?”

“N-No! Miss—you’re the cutest! Not scary at all!”

But Ping Chengcheng’s expression darkened further. “What did you just call me? Still calling me ‘sister’?”

“Hmph~”

Old Eight stammered, “Aiya, my bad—I misspoke.”

“Miss… you’re adorable.”

Ping Chengcheng leaned in closer, her face almost touching his as he shivered.

“Hehe, tell me…”

“Since I’m this cute, do you think Song Ning will like me?”

“Yes! Of course!”

“And do you think Song Ning is beautiful?”

“Beautiful!”

“Hehe…”

“W-Wait! Let me finish! Someone as stunning as Song Ning—none of us garbage are worthy of her!”

“Only you! You, a goddess beyond compare, could possibly match her!”

“I—I’m nothing but trash! I—I deserve to suffer!” Old Eight shouted as he slapped himself hard enough to draw tears and snot.

Ping Chengcheng was delighted. She ignored him and walked out the door.

Only Old Eight was left, slumped on the floor gasping for breath.

He shifted his legs and realized his underwear was completely soaked, carrying a faint sour stench.

“Damn… that girl really is…”

But then, a thought struck him.

He’d discovered a pattern: as long as he praised her obsessively—and kept saying that only she was worthy of Song Ning—she wouldn’t harm him.

He felt no sympathy for Huang Zhong. After all, the man had exploited him even before the apocalypse. His death was well deserved.

Maybe… he should become her follower?

The idea flashed through Old Eight’s mind. Not bad. Her combat power was top-notch. If he could win her favor, she might be his best shot at survival. Besides, it seemed like she’d actually been amused today.

Maybe he had a chance!

Yes… next time, he’d try to get even closer. Maybe then…

Two hours later.

Wu Sheng returned to the base gate, face pale, driving the Saber-Tooth armored vehicle.

Song Ning saw his expression and felt a chill inside. And… wasn’t he back a bit too quickly?

“Song-jie, I’ve got bad news…”

Wu Sheng limped out of the driver’s seat, his voice hoarse. His hands, still gripping the gun, were trembling.

“Speak.”

Ping Chengcheng skipped up beside Song Ning.

Song Ning instinctively reached to hold her by the waist, hesitated briefly, then let her arm drop.

“Song-jie… that zombie horde is headed this way.”

“I’d only gone thirty kilometers when I saw a massive black mass on the horizon.”

“At least tens of thousands of zombies! And… there were strange ones—huge monsters, things I’ve never seen!”

Wu Sheng’s voice shook. His legs were barely holding him up.

It felt like a war drum pounding in her chest. Ping Chengcheng’s heart turned restless. She leaned into Song Ning and clung tightly to her arm.

“Big sister, this…”

Right now, there seemed to be only one option—evacuate again and get as far from this area as possible.

But… the zombies were about to undergo a second evolution!

Without a sufficiently fortified shelter, how could they hope to survive the coming tide of blood and death?

“No choice now—we take it step by step.”

“Pack up the supplies. We’re leaving,” Song Ning said, voice calm but heavy, suppressing the turmoil in her heart.