Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Strike First

Lian Yi flung the iron pipe aside, yanked off her coat, and watched the corrosive bite fade as the droplets dried. Her brows knotted.

From the god’s-eye view, Yun Rou had never shown any superpower besides pocket space. But water that melted cloth like acid was a killer’s tool. No wonder Yun Rou would later stir up storms wherever she went—this had to be her hidden card.

Lian Yi had meant to end Yun Rou right there, at least finishing half the mission. Instead, the woman slipped away. A level three mission really wasn’t something you could stroll through.

She yanked a short black trench coat from her Pocket Space and pulled it on, then gripped the cleaver she’d scavenged from 601 and sprinted after her. Three minutes at most—yet by the time she burst into the stairwell, Yun Rou was gone.

Passing the landing, she saw Ma Tao’s corpse. She wasn’t the original owner of this body; she only flicked her gaze over it and kept moving.

It was two in the morning. She’d spent a full day and night evolving until lightning finally sparked. Staying here any longer was stupid. The original Lian Yi had been an office worker who ate out for every meal; the apartment held only a few emergency snacks.

Room 601 had been stripped clean, but even that loot would barely last one person a month. And Lian Yi knew the apocalypse wouldn’t politely wrap up in thirty days.

She reached the building entrance without catching a glimpse of Yun Rou. She eased the door open a crack.

The courtyard was packed with more zombies than before.

They still wandered without purpose, but a few had dried blood smeared at their mouths and across their chests—signs they’d fed. Their movements were smoother now. Still slow, but no longer stiff.

They were evolving.

Lian Yi took one look and pulled the door shut. Some of the more alert ones had already started sniffing, as if they’d caught her scent.

She ran the nearby map through her mind. One stop away sat a large shopping complex: a supermarket in the basement, floors of clothing and daily necessities above. It was only the third day. Plenty of people were still hiding at home, frozen by panic.

Perfect time to stockpile.

She cinched her backpack tight, slid a matching black mask over her face, and gripped the cleaver until her knuckles whitened. Then she pushed the door open and shot out like an arrow.

The courtyard zombies turned as one. Like sharks catching blood, they surged for her.

Lian Yi weaved left and right, kicked two zombies away, and used their sluggish bodies against them. She chopped an evolved zombie’s head clean off, reached the main gate, and vaulted the 1.5-meter electric barrier with a light, clean hop. Evolution had its perks.

The moment she landed, another cluster rushed her. She sprinted into the alley where she’d hidden before, twisting through turns, driving her speed higher and higher, shaking the dead like a tail.

From behind a window, two pretty eyes watched her go—burning with hate. If Yun Rou hadn’t been drained from using her ability, she would’ve made Lian Yi pay.

At Yun Rou’s feet lay two bodies, half-melted by acidic water: father and son, the original owners of this unit.

After Yun Rou fled down the stairwell, she’d made too much noise. A middle-aged man crouched at his peephole noticed her immediately. He opened his door and pulled her inside.

Yun Rou read his intent in a heartbeat, but she had no choice. Outside was death. She was thirsty, starving, and shaky from forcing her ability in panic, then racing down six flights of stairs.

“Miss, you weren’t bitten, were you?” he asked, eyes flicking over her.

“No,” Yun Rou said softly. “The one chasing me is my colleague. Her fiancé betrayed her, and she decided to blame me for it. She wanted to kill me to vent her rage.”

As she spoke, she turned slowly, showing she had no wounds.

“Ah! How did the world turn into this?” The middle-aged man looked pleased—greedy. “Miss, come in, come in!” He yanked her deeper inside and slammed the door shut.

That was why Lian Yi couldn’t catch Yun Rou. She hadn’t left the building at all.

Inside, Yun Rou found only father and son. The room was messy, but she spotted food and water at a glance and relaxed a fraction. She let herself sag onto the couch as if she’d reached her limit and asked for a drink.

The young man stared her down, his gaze growing bolder by the second. He even handed her bread.

Once Yun Rou had eaten and regained a little strength, the young man slid close and started pawing at her. Yun Rou jerked back, pretending to be frightened, and begged the middle-aged man for help.

He moved in, too.

Yun Rou’s eyes went cold. She lifted a hand and condensed a ball of water, split it in two, and slapped both into their faces.

They froze—water appearing from thin air. Then it hit. They didn’t have Lian Yi’s reflexes.

Their eyes began to corrode instantly. They howled and rolled on the floor, clawing at their faces. The moment their hands touched the water, flesh burned away there, too.

Yun Rou watched their screams thin into wet whimpers. Her face stayed blank.

Then noise from the courtyard reached her. Through a gap in the living room curtains on the second floor, she saw Lian Yi break through and escape.

Yun Rou pulled the curtains closed and thought hard. She’d hide here for now. Wait. See if Lian Yi came back. Pray the woman died out there.

Then she began testing her new skill.

Meanwhile, Lian Yi tore toward the shopping complex.

It sat by the expressway, so foot traffic was lighter. And when the apocalypse hit, the mall had already closed. Fewer zombies—probably. But she couldn’t rule out other scavengers thinking the same way.

The distance was only a thousand meters. In normal days, twenty minutes on foot.

Tonight it took her a full hour.

She had to swing her cleaver again and again, splitting skulls, black blood spraying her sleeves and mask. Under the dim streetlights, she looked like a butcher at work.

The stench of rot thickened until it coated the back of her throat. After she dropped another lunging zombie, she realized the dead nearby were starting to drift toward her—drawn by sound, by scent, by hunger.