Threats and the Leader’s Gift

5:00 p.m.

I was still sitting alone on the flowerbed outside the leader’s mansion.

“Cough… cough…”

Cars kept passing by, each one kicking up waves of dust that slapped straight into my face.

My already-terrible condition was getting worse.

I swear, my lungs are about to turn into concrete.

Seriously, since when did this camp have so many vehicles?

I remember scouting for victims around this area before—back when the leader’s mansion was just another landmark in the center of the camp.

The wealthiest survivors lived here, but even they rarely owned cars.

In the apocalypse, vehicles are among the most valuable assets.

Only the leader and her forces should have them in large numbers.

“Must be some kind of crisis… maybe?”

I slapped the dust off my face and stood up, brushing myself down.

Time to go.

The sooner I finish my “duty,” the sooner I can collapse somewhere.

Truthfully, though, I don’t even feel attached to my home anymore.

Ever since my supplies were confiscated, it’s just a place to sleep.

Nothing more.

“Miss Qin Yue.”

Before me, Su Yanlan stepped out of the mansion with Qin Dai.

So they’d been inside this whole time? I thought they’d left without me noticing.

“Good afternoon, Miss Yanlan.”

I smiled and extended my hand.

For some reason, this girl—about my height—just feels nice.

Probably because she’s one of the few people who hasn’t looked down on me.

For the first time in a long while, I actually wanted to make a friend.

But it’s a pointless dream.

She was likely one of my victims.

If she ever found out who I really was… who knows what she’d do to me.

“Hmm… After work, could you come by my shop? Don’t misunderstand—I just feel like we’ve known each other for a long time.”

She didn’t take my hand.

Instead, she stepped forward—ignoring my filthy clothes—and pulled me into a warm, full embrace.

It lasted only seconds.

Then she let go, linked arms with Qin Dai, and got into the car.

“…Sigh. Trouble.”

In my right palm: a business card, written in black marker.

At the bottom, in bold red ink: “Failure to show up = consequences. You’ve been warned.”

And at the end—a playful red heart.

The handwriting was elegant, delicate.

Yet it sent chills down my spine.

This wasn’t an invitation.

It was a threat.

Qin Dai must’ve told Yanlan everything.

“Yanyu Lanshan… what a weird shop name.”

I memorized the address, then tore the card into tiny pieces.

Buried them in the dirt of the flowerbed.

Why did I do that?

Maybe too many spy movies from a few years ago.

I laughed at myself, recalling old wartime dramas.

Then I looked at my muddy hand—still smelling faintly of lavender.

That was Su Yanlan’s scent.

Even in the apocalypse, she wears perfume.

Can’t say I’m surprised.

The elite have always been rotten, no matter the era.

“So I did say it, didn’t I? I wanted you to entertain me tonight. And you show up looking like this?”

The leader sat on the couch, legs crossed, smirking down at me as I knelt on the thin carpet.

“Ah… sorry for this appearance… What would you like me to do? I can do anything. As long as it makes you happy.”

I flashed the same practiced smile I’ve used a thousand times.

I knew I’d be mocked when I came in.

I was ready.

Even if she ordered me to crawl like a dog and lick her feet, I’d do it without flinching.

Survival doesn’t allow for dignity.

I’d just spend the next hour mentally cursing both her and myself a thousand times over.

“Boring. You’re always pretending. Only fools fall for that—naive little girls. Go take a shower. I left your clothes in the bathroom.”

She waved me off.

No humiliating task.

For that, I was grateful.

As for her mocking my act? I didn’t care.

My facade was never meant for smart people.

I never expected to fool her.

I just needed her to see me trying.

That’s how these tyrants are.

They want to see people grovel.

Praise them.

Beg for scraps of kindness.

This world… people aren’t people, dogs aren’t dogs.

Honestly? It was better under the old government.

They crushed us too—but at least they pretended it was for our own good.

Now, warlords like her don’t even bother with the act.

While thinking such treasonous thoughts—plotting the leader’s downfall in my mind—I crawled upstairs to the bathroom.

A hot shower wasn’t something I got often.

For someone like me, a bottom-tier survivor, it’s rare.

Most scavengers bathe in rivers or streams outside the camp.

“Mmm~”

Soon, the mansion filled with the sound of running water—and my soft, involuntary moans.

I didn’t care about the changes to my body.

No curiosity, no desire to explore—unlike the protagonists of those typical gender-swap novels.

Most of it had already been explored… by the leader.

“Good.”

After I finished, the leader uncrossed her legs and set aside the documents she’d been holding.

She studied me—now dressed in a light pink maid outfit.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Smiling sweetly, I crawled forward on my knees and nuzzled my face against her leg.

Yes—the “clothes” she prepared were a full maid set: dress, matching underwear, and all.

Luckily, she didn’t go for anything too lewd.

The outfit was modest.

If I had to critique it? The white thigh-highs.

I didn’t want to wear them.

They made me look weak.

Black would’ve been better.

Still, the leader pulled me up, embraced me, and began removing the small accessories—the headband, the choker, the wrist cuffs.

I inhaled the scent from the white wristband.

Lavender.

Faintly intoxicating.

Familiar… but my memory’s too foggy to place it.

Obediently leaning into her arms, I emptied my mind—waiting for whatever came next.