Chapter Thirty-Six: Teammates

Half an hour later, Yang Fan finally arrived at the appointed place—beneath the Zhongshan Overpass. The road was littered with bodies, most of them zombies, but many were human, victims of untimely deaths.

The bodies of many violated women lay strewn across the ground. Fang Na walked forward with furrowed brows, while the still panicked Liu Xue obediently followed behind Yang Fan, too frightened to move on her own.

It was now the eighth day of the apocalypse; those who were meant to die had already perished. In their escape, people either fought for survival or found shelter. The threat of zombies had lessened compared to the beginning. Everyone had gathered at the massive Baisheng Plaza supermarket, for there was an army camp there, one used for training recruits.

Some had been rescued in time, and now their goal was to reach this place—not for sanctuary, for after the mutated beasts appeared, the supermarket had already fallen by the third day—but for other reasons.

Among them were a few who had been particularly cruel to Yang Fan in his previous life, but that was secondary. His main purpose was to find that infamous group; if they were not eliminated, countless tragedies would follow. Yang Fan refused to witness the horrors of his past life repeat themselves. Thus, Baisheng Plaza supermarket was a destination he could not avoid.

Under the Zhongshan Overpass, he was surprised to find a crowd—about twenty people. Yang Fan led three women toward them, and before he reached the group, he heard Zhu Liang’s voice.

“Boss, boss!”

“Boss, you’re finally here,” Chen Ming chimed in next. They greeted him with cheerful smiles, evidently unharmed. Yang Fan saw them emerge from the crowd; Zhu Liang was dressed in a suit, and Chen Ming wore a crimson vest—both sporting quality brands, perhaps due to the weather.

The others stared at Yang Fan in astonishment, clearly unable to believe that the “boss” Zhu Liang and Chen Ming spoke of was a young man of seventeen or eighteen. Though Yang Fan’s hair was disheveled, his appearance filthy and stained with dark red blood, he still looked like a teenager.

Yet, his presence and aura were intimidating.

“Who are these people?” Yang Fan asked, surveying the group—men and women alike, about ten men and several women, all bearing traces of blood and looking utterly haggard.

“Boss, this is a group we rescued on the way. Two of them are system inheritors; the others are brave and resourceful. I think in this apocalypse, we need a team. We can take them in,” Zhu Liang explained quietly.

Yang Fan agreed, but wondered if these people would truly submit, and whether they could truly be tamed. Human nature was treacherous. He stepped forward, asking Bai Chen, “Are there zombies nearby?”

Bai Chen was startled, then quickly replied, “To the south, there’s a group heading this way.”

At her words, many faces in the crowd changed. Yang Fan swept his hand decisively. “If you want my protection, you are my slaves. Those who accept, stand before me. Those who refuse, leave. But if you wish to be my teammates and fight alongside me as equals, go north and kill a zombie alone. Do you understand?”

Human hearts were unpredictable; Yang Fan had no idea what these people were thinking, whether they were good or evil. He needed to know if they were qualified to be teammates, if they had the ability to join his group. If they couldn’t pass this test, he would never accept useless burdens.

He said the same to Zhu Liang and the others, whose faces darkened considerably.

“In the apocalypse, we face more than disaster. Worse things will come step by step. We don’t know what the future holds, but if you want to survive in someone else’s world, you’ll be slaves. Now, the apocalypse has leveled the playing field; everyone starts from the same line. If you wish to stand out, listen to me and fight with all your heart. Even if you die, do not live in such disgraceful survival,” Yang Fan declared, his words infused with the experience of a month in his previous life, compelling even the timid Chen Ming to feel his blood boil.

“I’ll go,”

A burly man from the crowd grabbed an iron rod from the ground and bolted north.

“Bai Chen, Fang Na, Zhu Liang, you three watch over them. One-on-one. If any special circumstances arise, handle them as you see fit; but in one-on-one fights, do not intervene,” Yang Fan instructed. Fang Na and Bai Chen moved out, Zhu Liang drew his bone blade and left, while Chen Ming charged ahead with determination. The rest were infected by Yang Fan’s spirit; though they did not know who he was, his aura and the way others addressed him convinced them he was formidable.

Thus, one after another, they departed, leaving behind a few—seven or eight men and two or three women—who could not overcome their fear. The grotesqueness of zombies haunted them. Yang Fan stood silently before them, unmoved by their refusal, feeling nothing for them.

“Please, take me in, take me in. I can do anything for you. I’m still a virgin, I’m still a virgin, please take me in,”

At last, a girl knelt before him, clutching his leg and sobbing, just as Bai Xue had once done. In this apocalypse, for survival, all dignity and everything else was lost—they needed only a bite to eat.

The other women hesitated, glancing at one another. They were all university students, not from any prestigious schools, merely idling through life. Now, each one fell to their knees, begging Yang Fan to take them in. The remaining men hung their heads in silence.

“I said, I’ll take you in, but you will only be slaves, doing all the menial work, with no dignity whatsoever. I can let the women off, but the men… they will likely be used as shields,” Yang Fan said coldly.

Finally, the men grew fearful, imagining themselves as slaves, like dogs. A few left in anger, leaving only a bespectacled young man, trembling and sobbing.

“Cry, cry, cry—cry yourself to death!” Yang Fan could not tolerate him any longer, disgusted by a grown man weeping like a woman.

The man said nothing, wiping away tears. Yang Fan would not spare him another glance. Seeing the others crying on the ground, Yang Fan ignored them all, though Liu Xue watched them, her thoughts inscrutable.

Yang Fan had no particular interests, and he had always listened to Liu Xue’s inner thoughts, so he had no idea what she was thinking at that moment.

“Ah!”

A scream finally rang out—someone had encountered danger...