The Scout’s Demise and the Rise of a New Leader

“What are you talking about? I never said the scouts would rotate. You, get back to scouting!”

“Hmph.”

Yodel shot forward, closing the distance to Bob in a flash. He seized Bob’s collar, slammed him against the wall, and enunciated each word slowly.

“You. Get to the front and scout. Dare to run, and I’ll throw you down to feed the living corpses.”

Yodel had merely returned Bob’s own words to him, verbatim.

The stark difference between them, however, was that Bob’s threat had been merely verbal, whereas Yodel had actually thrown a living corpse down.

It was Bob’s turn to grow frantic.

“You, you! How dare you defy me? Only I can lead you to escape! The safety we’ve enjoyed so far is all thanks to the route I designed! Kill me, and see what you’ll do then!”

Having said his piece, he then turned to the other survivors.

“Hey, all of you! What are you standing there for? Come and help me!”

Yet, not a single person stepped forward to aid their “leader.” They merely stood at a distance, wary of being drawn into the conflict.

“Why?”

Bob found it impossible to believe. Just moments ago, these very people, Yodel included, had been like lambs, pliable to his every whim. How could they now be so disobedient?

The reason behind this sudden shift was simple: obedience built upon violence and threats would naturally crumble in the face of even greater force.

And now, Yodel, who dared to fight living corpses in hand-to-hand combat and even kill them alone, clearly possessed far more deterrent power than Bob.

No one dared to step forward, nor even meet Yodel’s gaze. Everyone feared that Yodel might lose his temper and throw them down the building too.

“Heh heh, since this escape route was designed by you, then surely you leading the way is the optimal solution, wouldn’t you say? If others were to lead, I’d worry they might accidentally take a wrong turn.”

Yodel seized Bob and shoved him towards the front of the group, causing Bob to instantly become detached from the main body, standing alone and isolated.

Yodel then turned, moving among the survivors, having decided to conduct a “democratic” vote.

“I propose that Bob leads the way. All those in favor, please raise your hand.”

Before his words had even fully faded, Yodel himself raised a hand.

The others exchanged glances, a hint of hesitation in their eyes.

At this moment, Yodel lightly nudged the red-haired male student, who had proven remarkably resilient.

The student paused for a beat, but quickly caught on, raising his hand high.

“I agree too! That Bob forced others to scout for him; I’ve been fed up with him for ages! If we let him continue to be so arrogant, we’ll all end up as his stepping stones!”

As the male student chimed in, he didn’t forget to air his grievances, taking the opportunity to kick Bob while he was down.

Now, including Yodel, two hands were raised.

The survivors exchanged another round of glances. Some hands twitched, ready to rise, but seeing others still hesitant, they lowered again.

Yali scanned the crowd from the corner of her eye, thinking:

‘Just a little more, I have to help my brother!’

Following Yodel’s example, she gently tapped the two female students who had just been forced to scout the classroom.

A few seconds later, including Yali, three female students raised their hands simultaneously.

Yali, in particular, didn’t forget to wink at Yodel as she raised her hand; this small, triumphant expression earned her a thumbs-up from Yodel.

Finally, spurred on by the five individuals, the survivors hesitated no longer. Hands rose one after another, and the motion for Bob to scout the path passed unanimously.

Bob, the subject of the vote, was utterly dumbfounded. Standing at a distance, he had a clear, wide view, and he distinctly saw the subtle coordination between the brother and sister.

He grew frantic again: “No, this isn’t right! The vote is invalid, they cheated!”

Yodel was amused. These minor gestures were merely the fuse; what truly made the survivors raise their hands was their underlying dissatisfaction with Bob. Yodel had simply used the vote as a means to help them vent that resentment.

Now that the die was cast, Bob’s attempt to deny it was utterly laughable.

As expected, upon hearing Bob’s words, the survivors remained unmoved, casting cold glances at their now-deposed “leader.”

Seeing that Bob was still unwilling to give up, Yodel stepped forward, issuing a threat.

“I should remind you: the sound of that living corpse falling from the building will surely attract attention. If you keep dragging your feet, the living corpses will catch up.”

The tide had turned completely. Bob glared resentfully at Yodel, then forced himself to muster his courage and shuffled to the front to scout the path.

After all, moving forward meant a slim chance of survival, while staying here guaranteed a gruesome death.

The survivors set off once more, heading towards the East Academic Building.

Yet, they had barely taken a few steps when Bob heard Yodel speaking from behind him.

“From now on, you must scout the path according to my directions. Don’t harbor any ill intentions.”

‘Why do those words sound so familiar again?’

Bob’s words from mere minutes ago had now all become boomerangs, returned to him by Yodel verbatim.

He was now utterly dejected. What if Yodel intended to kill him, deliberately making him deviate from the safe route? Wouldn’t he be doomed?

Sure enough, at a fork in the path, Yodel and Bob found themselves at odds.

According to Bob’s designed route, they should have gone left, but Yodel forcefully ordered him to scout to the right.

This prompted Bob to utter a dire warning.

“If we run into living corpses, then all of us will have been killed by you!”

In that instant, everyone wavered slightly.

Although they disliked Bob, in their eyes, the first half of their journey had been largely safe, thanks to the route Bob had established.

Now that Yodel was deviating from Bob’s route, could this truly work?

However, the situation Bob and the survivors feared did not come to pass. The group did not encounter any living corpses and successfully covered a considerable distance.

At the next fork, another disagreement arose. Under Yodel’s firm stance, Bob, though reluctant, had no choice but to deviate from the original route once more.

This time too, they proceeded without incident.

By the third divergence, Bob no longer issued threats, silently obeying Yodel’s command.

By the fourth time, the others began to look at Yodel with astonished eyes, and Yali’s gaze was already brimming with adoration.

By the fifth time, Bob could no longer maintain his composure; the questioning expressions of all the survivors felt like daggers in his back.

Yali, the red-haired male student, and the two female students, in particular, were now looking at Bob as if he were refuse.

By the time the survivors finally reached the East Academic Building, no one gave Bob a second glance. Everyone clustered around Yodel like stars orbiting the moon, as if following him guaranteed their survival.

As for Yodel himself, his expression was solemn as he gazed through the window at the school’s perimeter.

Bob had been correct; their current location was indeed very close to the school wall. However, the infected zone was larger than Yodel had anticipated: the area within a hundred meters surrounding the school was also overrun by living corpses, meaning escaping the school walls didn’t guarantee safety.

“Brother, where do we go next?” Yali asked, clinging to Yodel’s arm.