‘Should I spare her life and simply take the supplies?’
This thought flickered through the man’s mind.
However, he immediately recalled the events of a few days prior.
Just recently, he had gone with his son, Li Hua, and their neighbors—a father and son—to a nearby supermarket to gather supplies.
As they passed a storage room, the door was suddenly burst open by a horde of zombified supermarket employees.
The neighborly father and son fled in a panic, inadvertently running towards a dead end.
It turned out that, to facilitate management and deter shoplifters during the approaching New Year (a time when petty theft was rampant and difficult to curb), the supermarket had closed its back exit, leaving only one way out.
This crucial detail should have been communicated beforehand, as Li Hua, the man’s son, was aware of it.
Yet, since this was everyone’s first encounter with a zombie apocalypse, they lacked experience.
The neighbors, mistakenly believing the back door was open, ran to the rear of the supermarket only to find the entrance sealed tight.
It was then that Li Hua, pushing a shopping cart, cleared a path by knocking over a blocking shelf, allowing the neighboring father and son to finally escape.
During their escape, another zombie lunged from between the shelves, knocking Uncle Liu, the neighbor, to the ground.
“Uncle Liu, get up!” Li Hua yelled.
He grabbed a durian and smashed it onto the zombie’s head, crushing its skull.
However, the durian’s sharp thorns also pierced Uncle Liu’s arm as he raised it to block.
“You damn well tried to get me killed, didn’t you!?” Uncle Liu roared in pain.
He shoved the zombie off him, scrambled to his feet, and then forcefully pushed Li Hua.
Caught off guard, Li Hua stumbled backward, falling between the shelves, just as another zombie scrambled forward on all fours and bit down on him.
“Li Hua!!!” the man shrieked, his heart tearing apart as he watched his only son perish in an instant, having already reached the supermarket entrance.
He gripped an iron bar, its hook latching onto the supermarket’s rolling shutter.
The shutter was already halfway down, the original plan being to fully lower it the moment they all escaped, trapping the zombies inside.
But now, his son, Li Hua, had been condemned to death by the very neighbor with whom they used to play cards daily.
Rage surged within the man.
“Go to hell, all of you!!!” he roared, yanking the iron bar and prematurely sealing the supermarket’s rolling shutter.
“Damn it! Old Li, you’re insane!” Old Liu cursed furiously.
“Uncle Li! My dad killed your son! You let me out!” Old Liu’s son wailed from inside the supermarket.
His pleas were abruptly cut short by a bloodcurdling scream.
The man, Li, listened coldly as the wails and curses of the neighboring father and son behind the rolling shutter gradually faded into silence.
Finally, he turned and walked home alone.
All the way, he pondered how he would console his wife.
However, just as he reached the residential building, a dark shadow plummeted from above.
His wife struck the ground headfirst with a sickening thud, her skull splitting open.
It was like a bowl of tomato-sauce-covered silken tofu overturned.
Seeing her husband return alone, she had already anticipated what had transpired.
Therefore, now—there was no need to forgive anyone.
For all humans were truly monstrous; without external pressure, they were civilized animals, but otherwise, they devolved into a pack of rabid dogs tearing at each other.
Having been cursed with a kind-hearted son was nothing short of heaven’s cruel joke, forcing him to taste agony twofold.
‘No matter who they are, I don’t care. Anyone who might try to steal my food, I will kill them.’
Old Li’s fingers tightened once more.
Just then, a woman’s shout echoed from behind him: “Watch out!”
Old Li was startled; it was his wife’s voice!
Had Du Lan’s voice not resembled his wife’s, Old Li might have pulled the trigger first before even glancing back.
When he turned to find that the one shouting “Watch out” was merely an unfamiliar, bespectacled, slightly overweight girl, he quickly looked back, only to see the white-haired girl’s figure flash and vanish behind the shelves.
“Damn you!” the man cursed, raising his crossbow and firing an arrow straight at Du Lan.
The arrowhead embedded itself in Du Lan’s stomach.
The girl’s face twisted in agony, and her legs buckled as she collapsed backward.
‘Food is paramount right now. I need to quickly finish off that white-haired brat, grab the supplies, and leave.’
Old Li loaded another arrow into his crossbow and advanced into the supermarket.
“Come out!” he roared.
If his opponent possessed even a shred of intelligence, they should have realized there was no hiding place among the neatly arranged shelves of this supermarket.
Both sides of the shelves faced the entrance directly; peeking out from anywhere would make them an easy target.
Predictably, the white-haired girl soon emerged from behind the shelves, her hands half-raised.
She must have also deduced one crucial fact: the man had no reason not to kill her.
Without hesitation, she pleaded, “My father is waiting for me at home! Uncle! All the supplies are yours! Please, let me go home to my dad! If I don’t return, he’ll be heartbroken to death!”
The white-haired girl’s arms and knees trembled, her expression a mix of terror, despair, and profound sorrow, as tears welled in the corners of her eyes.
Suddenly, Old Li heard the dying screams of his own son echoing in his ears.
In truth, his son, overwhelmed by fear before his death, had likely only let out dry, guttural “ah-ah-ah” sounds.
Yet, as Old Li recalled the moment, he distinctly heard his son calling out, “Dad! Dad!”
Even though days had passed and the destruction of his family had long turned Old Li’s heart to ashes, the fleeting tenderness brought by the memory moved him for a moment.
“Go. Don’t come back here again.”
Ling Yechen lifted her glasses, gently wiping away the tears from the corner of her eye with her index finger.
“Thank you, Uncle! All the supplies are yours! I won’t leave the house again!”
With that, she bolted out of the convenience store, turning sharply and disappearing around the corner of the terraced houses.
Old Li stepped forward, his eyes immediately falling upon the food in the bags on the ground.
He quickly bent down to gather them.
Normally, he wouldn’t have given these junk foods a second glance.
Now, however, the thrill of plunder made the corners of his mouth involuntarily turn upward.
The rustling of the plastic bags created a noisy distraction, preventing him from timely discerning the rapidly approaching footsteps behind him.
Of course, Ling Yechen had deliberately muffled her steps, so he shouldn’t have heard her anyway.
Just as Old Li whirled around, raising his crossbow, a cloud of red dust flew towards him.
It was a local convenience store specialty: handmade condiments and pickled vegetables displayed directly at the entrance for sale—pickled cabbage, chili sauce, and vibrant red chili powder.
These were kept in ceramic jars, which rested on wicker stools, each topped with a lid.
The chili powder from this shop was ground incredibly fine; a mere handful scattered into a red mist, blinding Old Li and stinging his eyes with a fiery burn.
Amidst the excruciating pain, Old Li clung to a sliver of life-saving rationality.
Suppressing the urge to cry out, he executed the last correct action of his life: he immediately pulled the trigger, firing an arrow.
His blind shot was remarkably accurate, the arrow flying directly towards Ling Yechen’s heart.
Then came a “thwack.”
It embedded itself in the wicker — Ling Yechen was holding the large wicker lid that had covered the ceramic jar in her left hand.
Old Li couldn’t see this, and as he prayed that his opponent had fallen, struck by the arrow, what he received instead was an excruciating pain in his jaw.
The heel of a high-heeled boot significantly amplified the destructive force of the flying kick.
Old Li dropped the crossbow, clutching his jaw as he stumbled and fell.
He then heard the distinct sound of a claw hammer being picked up from the ground beside him.
“Don’t kill me.”
The iron hammer flew horizontally, striking Old Li’s temple.
The dull, excruciating pain shocked the neural impulses controlling his limbs into a buffer state, effectively choking off his second plea of “Don’t kill me” in his throat.
A second hammer blow descended from above.
His skull rang with a resounding “clang.”
Two more hammers followed, deforming his skull and causing his eyeballs to bulge out.
He resembled a grotesque frog.
****
Another person killed.
Ling Yechen stared at the man’s corpse on the ground, a sudden sensation that she had grown taller washing over her.
‘If I had merely run away just now, I probably would have survived. But…’
The supplies from the plastic bags lay scattered across the floor.
‘Was it all just to keep this food?’
‘Or have I become addicted to killing?’
She had never practiced a spinning kick before, yet her first attempt had landed flawlessly, a perfect hit.
In fact, the very reason she had suddenly felt the urge to double back and deliver a killing blow now sent a shiver of cold sweat down her spine upon reflection.
Having been a peace-loving person since childhood, she logically should never have actively sought out conflict.
‘Am I changing?’
Beyond her gender and body, were other parts of her slowly fading away?
In the distance, the faint sound of a vehicle driving down the road became audible.
The girl’s body tensed, and she quickly moved to retrieve the crossbow from the ground.