Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Mysterious Stranger

“Oh, come on, how is it that you don’t seem to feel the cold at all?” In their small team of two, Yang Fan strode forward at an even pace, while Fu Gaobin shivered, cursing under his breath. Yang Fan shrugged and replied with a laugh, “I work out all the time, never get weak. You, on the other hand, spend your days pleasuring yourself—of course your energy’s shot.”

For the first time since the apocalypse began, Yang Fan cracked a joke. Fu Gaobin shot him the finger and swore, “Screw you.”

The two bantered back and forth as they walked. There was still some distance to Chengbi Lake—if it weren’t snowing, they could make it in an hour on foot, or ten minutes by car. But with the heavy snow, even driving would take an hour to arrive safely. Otherwise, if the car flipped over midway… the consequences would be unthinkable.

“Come on,” Fu Gaobin suddenly said, shaking off the cold and pointing to a clothing shop not far away. He glanced at Yang Fan, whose clothes were soaked in blood, and suggested, “Let’s change outfits first. If we run into the rescue troops on the road and they mistake us for looters, that’d be bad.”

“Troops? There are rescue troops?” Yang Fan was genuinely surprised. In his previous life, the city’s garrison had assembled at Chengbi Lake at the first sign of catastrophe, escorting a group of scientists, leaders, and prominent figures out of the city. He hadn’t known the army would come to rescue ordinary people.

“Didn’t you watch the news? The second day after everything went to hell, I saw a report saying rescue teams—ten soldiers per group—would be sent out to protect us. Not sure if we’ll actually meet any, though.” As he spoke, Fu Gaobin stepped into the clothing store, gripping his long gun. “Stay behind me and watch out for zombies.”

Yang Fan nodded, just as cautious. His “True Eagle Eye” could not see zombies hiding inside rooms—only those nearby.

The store was about two hundred square meters, two floors, with a foreign name Yang Fan couldn’t decipher. After checking the first floor, Fu Gaobin quickly grabbed a few sets of thermal underwear and said, “Keep a lookout for me, I’ll change first.”

Without further ado, Fu Gaobin stripped down right there, shivering as he revealed a flamboyant pair of red underwear.

“Aren’t you going to take a shower?” Yang Fan asked.

“Shower? In this hellhole? You must be kidding.” Fu Gaobin was filthy and reeked, and though Yang Fan could tolerate it, he still suggested he clean up.

“I got something that lets me detect all zombies and mutated beasts within five hundred meters. There’s nothing dangerous nearby right now, so hurry up and wash up while you can,” Yang Fan said.

“Really?” Fu Gaobin didn’t doubt Yang Fan, since he had honestly confessed on the way that he was a system inheritor. Seeing Yang Fan’s serious face, Fu Gaobin let out a howl and rushed upstairs to find the bathroom. He’d been longing for a bath—blood and other things had left him filthy these past days.

He quickly found the bathroom, turned on the water, and after the initial icy shock, waited for it to run hot. Setting his rifle aside, Fu Gaobin flashed Yang Fan a wicked grin. “Want to find me a woman? We could share a bath.”

“Screw you,” Yang Fan retorted, lighting a cigarette and sitting outside. “Hurry up, I want a shower too.”

Yang Fan smoked while waiting outside. The second floor housed fitting rooms and more merchandise. He could hear Fu Gaobin humming tunelessly as he bathed, his voice brimming with mischief.

After twenty minutes, Fu Gaobin emerged wrapped in a black down jacket, still steaming from the hot water. Yang Fan grabbed a set of clothes and headed to the bathroom as well. Fu Gaobin cackled, “Give me a smoke.”

Yang Fan tossed him a packet of Zhonghua cigarettes and went in to wash off the stench of the mutant rat’s blood. He wasn’t fussy by nature, but even he couldn’t stand the smell. Who knew when he’d get another chance to clean himself?

As he was bathing, Fu Gaobin came running with excitement. “There’s a kitchen in the back—still some food left!”

“Then go find some spices,” Yang Fan called back.

After a while, Yang Fan finished cleaning up and dressed, feeling refreshed as he stepped out—only to see Fu Gaobin devouring cold KFC drumsticks, grease glistening on his lips.

“People here really ate well—even KFC. Ha! Now it’s all mine,” Fu Gaobin exclaimed, already stuffed after several drumsticks. Yang Fan, though his physical strength was thirty times that of an ordinary person and he could go much longer without food, still felt hungry. Better to eat when he could—who knew when the next meal would come.

He helped himself to a meal he’d never have touched in his previous life, then enjoyed another smoke.

“What spices did you find?” Yang Fan asked.

“Ten packs of salt, seven or eight bottles of soy sauce, some chicken bouillon, cooking oil, cooking wine, MSG,” Fu Gaobin replied.

“That’ll do.” The list of seasonings made Yang Fan sigh inwardly. He’d found plenty of supplies in the school storeroom, but they were all devoured by the Picture of Beauties… How could that not hurt? At least the picture had a training mode, though he had no idea how effective it would be. He could only make do.

Just then, Yang Fan’s ears picked up a faint sound from afar. He immediately stood up, and Fu Gaobin, shouldering his backpack, gripped his rifle nervously. “What is it?”

“Someone’s coming.” Yang Fan frowned; the noise was different from the scurrying of mutant rats or the heavy steps of mutant dogs. It sounded… mechanical, like a motor.

Fu Gaobin moved to protect Yang Fan, his expression grave. “Can you check where it is? Let’s hide in the fitting room and see who it is.”

“Alright.” Without delay, Yang Fan followed Fu Gaobin into a fitting room. They peered through a gap in the curtain at the snow-covered world outside. The sound grew louder.

After several tens of seconds, a figure finally appeared.

The rumble of an engine filled the air, making Yang Fan scowl. Idiot, he cursed silently, don’t they know noise attracts zombies? Are they looking to die?

But as the engine’s roar approached, Yang Fan and Fu Gaobin finally saw who it was.

Dressed head to toe in fiery red, a cloak billowing behind her in the wind, astride a gleaming motorcycle—a woman.