Chapter 82: Choosing a Woman

“Need women? No problem!” To Li Qiang, women didn’t amount to much. He glanced at Yang Fan’s physique and couldn’t help but tease, “Young man, how many do you need?”

“Within ten.” Yang Fan certainly wasn’t about to tell Li Qiang what he actually wanted women for, so he simply stated what he needed.

“Ten!” Li Qiang frowned—not because he couldn’t provide that number, but because it was unusual for someone to request so many at once. Suspicion flickered in his eyes, which Yang Fan caught. So Yang Fan explained, “I have two brothers, so I’m picking for them as well.”

At that, Li Qiang was taken aback for a moment, then offered a knowing, man-to-man smile and motioned for Yang Fan to enter the workshop, clearly meaning for him to go in and make his selection. Yang Fan headed inside.

As he entered, the tension in the workshop instantly thickened. Many people watched Yang Fan, but no one dared speak. Most lowered their heads or pretended to sleep—no one wanted to meet his gaze. His ruthless methods had left a deep impression on everyone.

Fu Gaobin and Wang Cheng were still sleeping, paying no mind to Yang Fan and Li Qiang as they walked by, continuing forward past a restroom. Suddenly, they came upon a chaotic crowd—some dressed in suits, some in barely anything at all. Even in the sweltering, steamy workshop, a certain chill lingered, a coldness born of despair.

The stench here was far stronger than in the back: the sharp tang of sweat, the rancid odors of unwashed bodies, the musk of fear and hopelessness—all mingled into a suffocating miasma. Yang Fan wrinkled his nose. Some people were lying down, groaning; others squatted in corners. Chaos reigned.

“Up! Everyone get up, now!” As Li Qiang arrived, two men standing at the door immediately shouted, jolting some of the sleepers awake.

“Is it time to eat?”
“Are we being fed now? Seems early today.”
“Who cares, as long as there’s food!” Most of their chatter centered around eating. They rubbed their eyes, got up, and irritably shoved those beside them aside.

“A bunch of useless leeches, all you know is eating, never doing a damn thing,” grumbled a few of their burly guards.

The crowd soon noticed Yang Fan at the front, with Li Qiang at his side. They didn’t recognize Yang Fan, but they all knew Li Qiang—he was the chief commander, the one whose word could have them thrown off the truck. None dared act out, not even under the relentless psychological strain of the apocalypse. No one would risk showing hostility toward Li Qiang.

Some unfortunate soul had once stood up to Li Qiang, and the consequences were too gruesome to forget—the lesson, blood-soaked and vivid, kept everyone obedient and silent. The atmosphere calmed considerably.

“What’s he here for?” This question lingered in the minds of not only the refugees but also the other system users and even a few soldiers.

“Men to the left, women to the right, line up quickly—age doesn’t matter!” At Li Qiang’s command, the crowd began to comply, dividing evenly. After a few minutes, everyone stood in order, a narrow gap left between the two groups.

“All men, squat and move aside—make room for the women.” Li Qiang continued. The men obediently huddled out of the way, clearing a wide space where fewer than a hundred women now stood. Some hung their heads, some met Yang Fan’s gaze, and a few eyed him with a hint of seduction.

By now, everyone knew exactly why Li Qiang had brought Yang Fan—he was here to pick women. The men accepted this without protest. In the post-apocalyptic world, the strong were entitled to such privileges; it was neither good nor bad—it simply was. To survive, everyone had to accept their fate.

Yang Fan began to inspect the group. Among them, only two women met the criteria to enter the Portrait of Beauties, but neither qualified as a true goddess. True beauties were a rare breed, after all. The Portrait of Beauties appraised women in their natural state, with a discerning eye that saw through even cosmetic surgery. A score of five was required to enter its ranks.

As had been explained before, the Portrait’s grading system matched Yang Fan’s own: one point was a token for being female; two points for a decent figure but poor looks; three for average looks, figure, and temperament; and four for a touch of prettiness, subject to personal taste—some preferred the cute, others the mature. Four points was a vague range, hard to define. Five points signified genuine beauty, all-around appeal—like the prettiest girl in a class.

Six points meant a great figure or outstanding quality in one aspect—the kind of woman who stood out in an entire department. Seven points was reserved for campus queens, like Bai Su. Eight points for professional models, socialites, or A-list celebrities. Nine points for the absolute top tier.

Ten points—a goddess.

And the evaluation had to be made with no makeup; many beauties fell short once stripped of cosmetic artifice. That there were two natural-faced five-point beauties among these women was already well beyond Yang Fan’s expectations.

“Good eye,” Li Qiang remarked as soon as he spotted the two women, then thought to himself, “The kid’s got an eye for talent. How did I miss these two? Such beautiful girls—what a pity!”

Yang Fan chuckled softly and called the two women over. After a moment’s hesitation, one of them strode forward confidently. She was tall, with long black hair, though it was filthy and tangled. She seemed to summon her courage as she stepped out, trying to appear composed as she asked, “Do you have anything to eat?”

Her boldness made Yang Fan smile and shake his head. He pulled a large slab of tender, mutant rat meat from his bag—twenty or thirty pounds at least—and told Li Qiang, “Boil it for soup and share it among them.”

As Yang Fan produced the meat, countless eyes turned his way, brimming with excitement and longing. The sound of throats swallowing echoed through the hall, especially from the woman facing him, who stared at the meat with undisguised greed.

“Follow me, and I promise you’ll never worry about food or drink again,” Yang Fan promised, his voice seductive.

“Alright… I’ll go with you!” she replied without the slightest hesitation, eyes fixed on the meat, utterly entranced.

Li Qiang showed no sign of surprise; clearly, they had all tasted mutant rat meat before.

The soldiers took the meat away to cook, and instantly the crowd erupted with excitement.