Chapter 2
Chapter 2: Changing the Course
Lian Yi swallowed the urge to curse the communicator again. It was offline. Screaming into the void wouldn’t bring it back, and if she failed, it sure as hell wouldn’t return as her handler.
The mission had landed in her lap. She couldn’t refuse it, and she couldn’t half-ass it. If she came back successful, she could stare those black suits in the face and set her own terms.
At least she’d dodged that first claw—dodged becoming part of the horde. A good start.
She’d already changed the original Lian Yi’s fate.
Lian Yi rolled her shoulders, flexed her wrists, and checked the body. Work clothes. Flat shoes. Thank heaven the original owner had a job that kept her on her feet—no stilettos, no dead weight.
She patted her crossbody bag. The apartment key was inside.
How had Ma Tao and Yun Rou gotten in last time?
She dug through the inherited memories and found the answer. A mistake the original Lian Yi had made on her own: a spare key under the doormat. Ma Tao knew.
Lian Yi’s eyes narrowed. Not this time.
They’d been separated for about ten minutes. With the streets in chaos, Ma Tao and Yun Rou probably couldn’t reach her place immediately.
Good. She would move first.
Change started now. Step one: get home before they did and claim the green-jade peach pit—her Pocket Space—before it ever touched Yun Rou’s hands.
Her eyes adjusted to the dark. An abandoned hollow iron pipe lay beside a trash can. She scooped it up. About a meter and a quarter long. She tested the balance in her palm.
Too light.
Then she remembered: her divine strength had come with her.
Good thing she’d negotiated that before becoming a tasker. Without it, an apocalypse would’ve been a bad joke.
Steadier now, she slipped from the alley and ran, cutting through back lanes by memory, leaving the main street’s slaughter behind.
The alleys were darker, emptier—fewer zombies. When a few lurched into her path, she crushed their skulls with one clean swing each. No hesitation. No second strike.
As she ran, her soul settled deeper into the body. The fit tightened with every breath. Fifteen minutes of hard movement, and she understood this vessel the way a fighter knows a weapon.
She reached the compound gate.
Outside the electric barrier, zombies clustered and swayed. Inside the courtyard, more dragged their feet through the shadows. People here had changed, too.
She counted fast. Thirteen in the yard.
Most of them were bunched at the entrance of her building.
That was a problem.
Her fingers brushed her bag. A smile tugged at her mouth.
She pulled out her phone and dialed Ma Tao.
There was still signal. The call went through. The call tone chimed in her ear, bright and obnoxious in the dead night.
She took out her apartment key, shoved the phone into the bag with the sound still going, and hurled the entire crossbody bag into the yard like she was pitching a fastball.
It landed in the farthest corner—furthest from the building entrance.
Then Lian Yi melted back into the alley shadows and waited.
From the original Lian Yi’s memories, Ma Tao wasn’t what he pretended to be. He wore an honest face, but he was petty and greedy to the bone. A call like this would gnaw at him. He would call back.
And when he did, the zombies would come running.
Right on schedule, Ma Tao’s ringtone—“Darling, pick up”—spilled from his pocket and drew attention.
He and Yun Rou were hiding inside a self-service adult shop less than five hundred meters away. They’d wedged themselves into a cramped nook in the back, barely enough room for two bodies. Close enough for Ma Tao to feel smug—until the ringtone cut through the air like a siren.
Both of them jolted. Outside, the slow zombies turned as one, drawn by sound.
A flash of cruelty twisted Ma Tao’s honest-looking face. That ringtone was set for his fiancée, Lian Yi. Now it was a death bell. Yun Rou’s gaze darkened, too.
Ma Tao fumbled out his phone and killed the call fast, then held his breath, praying the zombies would drift away.
Yun Rou bit her lip and whispered, “Brother Ma, you shouldn’t have abandoned Lian Yi to save me. She’s calling—maybe she’s still alive, waiting for us. We should find out where she is and meet up.”
Ma Tao swallowed, then put on the right tone. “Everything happened too suddenly. I didn’t think. But I don’t regret saving you. If she wants to blame someone, let her blame me. I’ll call her back and ask where she is.”
He set his phone to silent and dialed Lian Yi’s number.
Back at the compound, the phone inside the bag began to ring—muffled, trapped in fabric, but loud enough.
The yard zombies snapped toward the sound and shambled over in a stiff wave.
“Good timing,” Lian Yi murmured.
When most of them peeled away from the building entrance, she burst out of shadow. A zombie near the gate lurched for her. She swung the pipe and smashed it backward into the electric bars. It crumpled and went still.
The noise—and the living scent of her—pulled the yard zombies back. As they turned, she stepped onto the dead zombie’s shoulder, climbed the gate, and vaulted into the courtyard.
She hit the ground and rolled, bleeding off the impact. Before any zombie could reach her, she sprinted for the building door.
This was an old compound. Property management existed on paper. The residents were mostly retired employees who refused to pay fees. No one fixed anything. The entrance door had been broken for ages—it was just for show. One pull, and it opened.
Lian Yi slipped inside, shut it behind her, and took the stairs two at a time.
Sixth floor. Cheap rent. No elevator.
The stairwell was narrow. If something mutated in here, there’d be nowhere to dodge. She kept her grip tight on the pipe and climbed fast, listening for anything that sounded too close.