Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Flexing Muscle

“Kzzzt! Bad signal.”

Wu Lian Yi’s temple twitched. Again with this crap. She let out a cold snort. “Reconfirm the mission target and contact me immediately. If this mission fails, that’s on you too. I’m an entry-level tasker—I’m not even qualified to take a level-three mission!”

“Acknowledged. The communicator will actively protect the tasker’s rights and provide full support for mission completion.”

The voice was flat and mechanical, but Wu Lian Yi still caught a trace of guilt buried inside it.

“Ability users, fall back!”

The order snapped through the air behind them. Sun Wang exhaled hard, grabbed Wu Lian Yi by the wrist, and hauled her into a sprint. In seconds, they slipped back into the main group.

The moment the ability users cleared the line, grenades arced overhead in a tight, brutal rhythm. Explosions rolled across the street. Bodies came apart. Limbs and chunks of rotten flesh sprayed outward. The zombie count visibly dropped with every blast.

Wu Lian Yi’s gaze cut to the squad in black combat gear—disciplined, efficient, tossing grenades like they’d drilled it a thousand times. Point at a spot, it got erased. Special operations, no question.

Her eyes narrowed. If she remembered right, she still had another mission: assist the apocalypse’s evolution. A squad like this was exactly the kind of partner worth having.

“Fire!”

The shout came again—sharp, commanding.

It wasn’t the black-clad squad this time. Captain Zhao’s convoy, covering the rear, had been swallowed by another surge. To avoid hitting their own people, the special ops squad stopped throwing explosives. They’d already punched a hole in the tide, though, and that gap had indirectly saved the convoy.

Gunfire cracked again. Rows of zombies collapsed. A green military truck gunned forward, crushing bodies under its tires as it surged toward the defensive line.

Too many corpses. Too much wreckage.

The truck hit the pile, tipped, and rolled onto its side. Metal screamed. It barrel-rolled once, flattening more zombies beneath it. The people on the line went tight—fists clenched, breath caught.

“How many are on that truck?” the lead captain demanded.

“Captain Zhao and his deputy captain, plus six soldiers on rear guard… probably—” The speaker didn’t finish.

Everyone could see it. The truck had stopped rolling. Zombies were already crawling over it, clawing for the cab, hungry for the living inside.

Behind them, the line watched the distant vehicle nearly disappear under the swarm. A few people’s eyes reddened. The air went heavy and still.

“You’re giving up too early,” Wu Lian Yi said, voice level. “Call them. Find out if they’re still alive.”

It jolted everyone back into motion. Someone yanked up a radio and shouted, “Captain Zhao, respond if you can hear me! This is the support squad—report your status!”

He repeated it three times. Nothing but static. Two full minutes crawled by.

Then, broken and faint: “I’m… Zhao Chong Lin. Deputy captain and I… trapped… in the cab. Zombies are trying to… break the window.”

Relief flickered—then died. The difficulty of a rescue hit them all at once. Sacrificing more people for two men wasn’t an option anymore. Not in this world.

Wu Lian Yi lowered her gaze, thinking. Then she tilted her head toward the special ops captain, eyes sharp and predatory. “You have motorcycles? Small vehicles? Something that can turn on a dime and hit speed instantly?”

The man’s gaze locked onto her. He understood at once. “You think you can get them out?”

“I won’t know until I try,” she said. “My underling will help.”

She pointed straight at Sun Wang. He looked like he wanted to fold in half.

The captain studied them for a heartbeat, then signaled. A six-man team broke off and moved.

A minute later, a military jeep roared up. Behind it came a black three-wheeled motorcycle. The plan was obvious: the jeep would draw the zombies. The trike would sprint in and out.

“Go.”

Wu Lian Yi swung onto the trike like she was stepping onto a curb. Sun Wang climbed on behind her, pale and tight.

“Sister Lian Yi… what do I do?” His voice cracked.

“Simple,” she said, all warmth and steel. “Do exactly what I tell you. I’ll bring you back in one piece.”

He swallowed hard. “O-okay.”

Up ahead, the jeep whipped around, its rear swinging wide, muzzle flashes stuttering—rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat—chewing through the nearest cluster. Bodies dropped in waves. The moment the pressure eased, the trike surged forward, closing the distance to the overturned truck.

Wu Lian Yi leaned in. “Take me to the truck.”

“Y-yes.”

“Stay on me. Keep yourself alive. The rest is mine,” she said. “And if your superpower starts failing, you tell me before you crash.”

Her eyes flicked to him—one cold glance—and Sun Wang nodded like his life depended on it.

The gunfire paused for a breath.

Sun Wang grabbed her wrist.

They vanished.

The next instant, they stood beside the overturned truck. The zombies that had already smashed the cab window snapped toward them, drawn by fresh heat.

Wu Lian Yi drew Lei Yao. Lightning surged into the blade.

She swept once.

A purple flash cut across the street. Zombies dropped like grass under a scythe.

In that cleared gap, she seized the truck’s front bumper—metal and mass that should have been impossible—and flung it backward.

The vehicle, a hulking monster of steel, sailed through the air.

“Back up!” someone screamed.

Wu Lian Yi yanked Sun Wang with her. “Back!”

Sun Wang didn’t even look. He triggered his superpower, ripping them out of the swarm.

They reappeared on the trike. It swung around and tore away as the truck slammed down nearby.

Sun Wang’s face had gone paper-white. Wu Lian Yi didn’t let him breathe. “Take me to where it lands—now.”

He clenched his teeth. Grabbed her.

Teleport.

They appeared directly beneath the descending truck.

Sun Wang collapsed onto the ground like his bones had turned to water.

Wu Lian Yi sprang up and caught the truck one-handed.

Caught it.

Like it weighed nothing.

She tossed it lightly, flipping it upright and shaking off the zombies clinging to it. Then she set it down with a controlled thud.

She turned on the frozen onlookers. “What are you staring at? Get them out!”

The survivors inside—Zhao Chong Lin, his deputy captain, and four soldiers who had held out to the end—crawled out of the wrecked cab and the rear bed on their own, shaken but breathing.

Less than ten minutes. That was all it took.

When the jeep and trike finally returned, the special ops captain—only his eyes clearly visible—stepped forward.

“I’m Ying Yi,” he said, voice low. “Thank you for stepping in. I hope we’ll work together again.”

Wu Lian Yi nodded and offered her hand. “Wu Lian Yi.”