Though Bai Ling still knew little about this apocalypse, with future hardships and enemies yet unknown,
something about Duan Heng’s steady gaze and calm, confident voice made everything feel simple. As long as he was by her side, she had nothing to fear.
*What… what the heck… always showing off. So stupid!*
*I don’t think he’s that strong anyway! Just got lucky with a prophetic dream—once I hit level 40 and get as strong as him, we’ll see if he’s still laughing! I’ll make him call me Dad!*
*Grrr!!!*
For some reason, after an inner struggle, Bai Ling abruptly turned her head away, face flushed crimson as she gritted her teeth silently, radiating stubborn defiance.
Duan Heng didn’t notice. His eyes were fixed on the sky—the blazing sun now hung directly overhead. Noon had arrived.
Killing zombies to level up and earn System Coins was crucial, but rest mattered too. After a brief pause, Duan Heng turned back, ruffling Bai Ling’s hair.
“Let’s have lunch first. We’ll hunt zombies again this afternoon.”
“Mhm~”
Bai Ling beamed, eyes crinkling shut—
then instantly snapped them wide open, as if struck by a horrifying realization!
*‘Mhm’ my ass! Bai Ling, what are you DOING?!*
——
——
By now, it’s worth asking: why was Duan Heng so devoted to Bai Ling in this apocalypse?
On the surface, they’d been brotherly roommates before the end times, then comrades-in-arms after. A reborn Duan Heng caring for her seemed natural.
But the truth ran far deeper.
Why was Duan Heng the one who reincarnated? Why did only he get this privilege? What right did he have to carry past memories into this life?
Because his very first skill in his previous life was *‘Regression Rebirth’*.
Yes—Duan Heng’s skill granted no stats, no perks. Its sole effect: *‘Upon death, return to the pre-apocalypse era with all memories, retained System privileges, and skills. This skill deactivates after one use. The host cannot view this skill’s details before activation.’*
In short, Duan Heng had been a blank slate in his first apocalypse—no abilities, not even knowledge of his own skill! A man without skills was practically doomed before hitting level 10 and gaining his second ability. Liu Ming, a burly man with level 6 stats and a physique-enhancing skill, still wouldn’t dare fight a Crawler head-on! Ordinary people died at the sight of a single Mature Zombie—and those infested the streets after just one week. Survival for a powerless Duan Heng was near impossible.
Even at level 10, others had two skills while he had only one. *‘Regression Rebirth’* was meant as a last resort—a chance to relive life and prepare for the apocalypse. Most hosts died within the first two days anyway.
But who could have predicted…
Bai Ling had been a paragon of selflessness in that past life. From the moment they fought their way out of KFC together, she never abandoned Duan Heng. She dragged him through levels despite his uselessness, spent her precious System Coins trading for gear to compensate for his missing skill, and even let him outlevel her.
Duan Heng should’ve died in week one. Yet they survived two years—maximizing *‘Regression Rebirth’*’s potential.
Tragically, Bai Ling’s kindness led to betrayal. Both met brutal ends. That death forged today’s ruthless Duan Heng. Without her, he wouldn’t exist.
*“Huh? Why help me?”*
*“Silly! We’re brothers, right~? No need to be formal~”*
*“Relax! I heard others say—after level 10, you get new skills. Fortune turns like the tide. You won’t be trash forever~”*
——
——
*‘Your System Coins: 5,517. Spend wisely.’*
*When will I stop being trash—*
Back in the present, after clearing nearby zombies, Bai Ling and Duan Heng settled into a clean hotpot restaurant for a brief noon break.
Bai Ling had been thrilled when Duan Heng pulled hotpot broth and meat rolls from his System storage. But as the pot simmered, he casually “tipped” her 4,000 System Coins—shattering her pride.
*I worked all morning for 500 coins! One hit nets you thousands?! That’s not fair!*
*Why aren’t I the protagonist?! Why don’t I have this many skills?! Life’s unbearable┭┮﹏┭┮*
“Don’t fear poverty among brothers—fear one driving a Range Rover.” That phrase captured Bai Ling’s despair perfectly.
Worse, this brother clearly had designs on her body! Whether serious or not, Bai Ling kept reminding herself: *Stay true. Uphold your dignity as a man!*
*This is the one thing I’ll never surrender! Even if Duan Heng is strong… handsome… has a great body!*
*Calm under pressure. Thinks ahead. Ruthless when needed. And so gentle with me…*
*But I won’t lose! I’ll drive a Range Rover too!*
Determination flared in Bai Ling’s eyes—
then a rich, mouthwatering aroma flooded her senses. Her stomach growled loudly: *gurgle-gurgle—*
The pot had boiled over. Savory meat and spice scents filled the air. Beside her bowl sat two dipping sauces—sesame oil and chili oil—freshly mixed by Duan Heng.
“What are you spacing out for? Eat.”
Duan Heng stood, dropping a thick slice of lamb into her bowl. After a pause, he walked over to tie an apron around her waist, protecting her Nanotech Battle Suit from splatters. The boyfriend-points skyrocketed. (They’d shed outer layers for hotpot; Bai Ling wore only the suit.)
A bead of sweat trickled down Bai Ling’s temple…
*So… so underhanded… luring me into making mistakes!*
*I won’t… absolutely won’t… won’t give in to…*
Her shadow trembled visibly, radiating inner turmoil.
Then Duan Heng placed another slice of lamb in her chili oil. Carefully dipped, the succulent meat glistened with fragrant sauce. Droplets of golden oil slid down its pale surface like a freshly bathed beauty. Steam carried the scent of chilies and spices—a single whiff intoxicated the senses.
*Chomp—*
Bai Ling’s mind went blank. Before Duan Heng could withdraw his chopsticks, she’d already bitten down. The taste matched pre-apocalypse hotpot—no, it was even better! Divine!
Only after swallowing did she realize: Duan Heng still held the chopsticks… while she clamped her teeth around the tips. The pose screamed…
*I’m literally a girlfriend being hand-fed by her boyfriend!*
Bai Ling’s eyes widened in delayed horror.
No matter how hard she tried, her mouth refused to let go—*It’s just too delicious┭┮﹏┭┮*
And so, that noon, amid humiliation and reluctance, Bai Ling’s mouth and tongue suffered repeated “humiliation” at the hands of Duan Heng’s filthy flesh (the lamb rolls), stripped of all dignity…
The bubbling crimson broth and swirling aromas felt jarringly alive in this dead world—a surreal echo of lost times.
Just as they happily prepared to add shrimp paste for a flavor boost…
The restaurant door slammed open. Before Bai Ling could react, over a dozen people strode in, staring at them in stunned silence.
“It’s really hotpot? Holy crap!” one gasped.
A man who looked like their leader rushed toward Duan Heng:
“Where—where did you get all this food?! Can you spare some for us?”
“Please!”
