It was already day three of the Apocalypse. Anyone who’d survived this long and still dared to venture out with a squad—no matter their personality—surely had a few Zombie kills under their belt.

Duan Heng had posted those words from a fake account purely to lure them together and wipe them out at once. This move would harvest System Coins *and* eradicate every ill-intentioned, power-abusing resident in the compound.

But if these people held no grudge against Duan Heng and were merely deceived by his fake account… wouldn’t slaughtering them all be inhumane?

*Not a chance.*

As Duan Heng loaded his pistol, the thought settled coldly in his mind. His gaze was icy, devoid of even a trace of pity.

*In the Apocalypse, there are no laws or morals—only survival of the fittest. Every potential threat must be eliminated. Giving others a chance is cutting your own throat.*

*Even if they don’t come for me today, they will tomorrow.*

*The truly honest, the overly compassionate—they wouldn’t fall for a few slick words.*

The villa’s supplies were his by right. Why hand them over freely? If he’d erred at all, it was posting a few vain selfies. Anyone with a shred of moral compass wouldn’t have followed Liu Ming’s condemnation.

So Duan Heng simply sneered inwardly:

*Who said earning System Coins means only killing Zombies?*

*Killing people… now *that* brings coins faster.*

—

“Brother Liu! We’re here!”

“Let’s take down Duan Heng and seize his supplies!”

“Kill Duan Heng! Grab the goods!”

Reality proved fiercer than fiction. Though only dozens had echoed Liu Ming online, over a hundred now packed the community hall—an hour later. All had flocked to him, hungry for Duan Heng’s stash. Men, women, even older uncles and aunties—faces set in fierce, self-righteous determination.

Compared to Zombies, one ordinary man posed little threat. Join the crowd, boost morale, grab supplies—who’d refuse? As for Duan Heng’s fate? They didn’t care. Profit was all that mattered.

“Easy now! Form squads!”

“Level 1s here! Levels 2–3 over there! Women form your own group… Level 4 elites, stay with me—the team’s core!”

Liu Ming stood on the steps, nearly drunk with pride, convinced his plan was flawless. He commanded the crowd like a warlord, basking in obedient nods and flattery.

*I am king here!*

With squads assigned, euphoria surged.

*With this army, what’s to fear? Duan Heng? Mutated Zombies? Trash!*

*Brat… wait. I’ll teach you a lesson. And show your woman who the real powerhouse is.*

His inner roar swelled—arrogance peaking, morality shattered. His eyes gleamed not with excitement, but cruelty, greed, and malice.

He raised his arm and bellowed:

“Kill Duan Heng! Seize the supplies!”

“KILL DUAN HENG—SEIZE THE SUPPLIES—!”

The roar shook the compound. Even a Crawler would’ve fled.

The horde surged from the hall. Surface-level Zombies were already cleared. Duan Heng’s villa lay just three minutes away.

…

First came a stout butcher in bloodstained apron, cleaver in hand—face hardened by slaughter. His squad: twenty Levels 2–3, Zombie-slaying veterans, stronger than the last aid team.

Next, the Level 1 wave—fifty-plus strong—led by two tattooed thugs, former underlings of Brother Long. Too scared to join the ambush night, now bold in numbers. A rifle burst wouldn’t stop this swarm.

Last, the women’s squad. Led by sly Auntie Li. Sharp-tongued, vicious—the very ones who’d raged online: *“Why hoard food? A decent man shares with women!”* Their words alone could break a mind.

“Shameless thief! Hand over the supplies or we take them!”

“Kill one, bless ten thousand homes! He should feel honored!”

“Almost there! Next turn—Duan Heng’s place!”

Arrogant strides, roaring chants—the compound trembled. Every face wore hollow righteousness.

Bystander survivors felt a trace of shame. Doors and windows slammed shut. Even Duan Heng, in his previous life at this stage, couldn’t have faced this. Ordinary folk could only hide.

…

Yet—

This near-invincible early-Apocalypse force.

This squad deemed impossible to wipe out.

As they turned the final alley toward Duan Heng’s villa—

An earth-shattering blast erupted!

BOOM——

Flames shot skyward. Bricks shattered. Smoke and dust choked the air. The explosion detonated *beneath their feet*. Instant chaos. Corpses. Screams.

“Ahhh! My leg!”

“What was that?!”

“I’m blind!”

“Dad! Where are you?!”

Agony wailed through the smoke. Morale shattered. Liu Ming scrambled up, dazed, staring at the hellscape: bodies strewn, black smoke swirling, one man clutching a bleeding arm, kneeling, shrieking—

“BEAST! Which bastard planted this?! SHOW YOURSELF!”

His roar echoed, raw with fury.

“FACE ME! I’LL CARVE YOU APART! LEAVE NO CORPSE! I’LL SLAUGHTER YOUR—”

Thud——

Thump——

“?????”

A silenced shot.

The roaring man collapsed. Heads snapped toward him—shot clean through. Lying like a dead dog, blood and brain matter pooling.

*Thud. Thud.*

Two more shots. Head. Chest.

“GUNFIRE!”

Panic erupted. Pale faces. Trembling hands. Eyes darting for the shooter.

Then—

From the smoke, Duan Heng emerged. Black-clad. Silenced pistol in hand. Deep black eyes, utterly void of emotion. A cold smirk touched his lips.

“No need to rush…”

“I’ll deliver the supplies… personally.”