Renault furrowed his brow. It seemed like this group of survivors lacked confidence in themselves.

"Quiet down!" Renault’s voice cut through the chatter, and all eyes turned toward him as he stood at the entrance to the yard.

Clearing his throat, he continued, “Wherever you want to go is your business, not mine. However, if you choose to stay, I’ll do my best to look after you.”

The survivors looked at each other, hesitating, unsure of what to do. One man in a military green coat swallowed the last bite of bread and asked Renault, “What benefits are there if we follow you?”

Renault looked the man over. He couldn’t have been older than thirty, but his face showed the wear and tear of a tough life. “Following me won’t guarantee benefits,” Renault replied, “but I can promise that we’ll face hardships together.”

Suddenly, laughter erupted from the crowd. A bald, middle-aged man laughed obnoxiously, drawing everyone’s attention.

Renault turned his gaze toward the man and calmly asked, “What’s so funny?”

The man, wearing a mocking grin, sneered, “You can’t even paint a picture of hope, yet you’re trying to rally people? Kid, be careful you don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

To him, Renault was just a young, inexperienced boy trying to play leader. He figured there was no way Renault had the life experience to lead anyone.

“Oh?” Renault’s face remained composed. “And in your opinion, how should one paint that picture?”

Renault wasn’t interested in making false promises. This was the apocalypse—uncertainty and danger were constants. At best, he had a bit of knowledge and experience that could help in the early stages, but that was all.

“Paint a picture? Ha! If I were in charge, I’d share all my resources with everyone and ensure that we all lived equally,” the bald man boasted, puffing up with confidence.

“My name is Cheng Zhiguo,” he continued with a self-satisfied smile. “Before all this, I was the vice president of Nudian Corp. in Xishan City. When it comes to leadership, no one here can match my experience.”

Hearing this, the survivors began whispering among themselves.

“Whoa, Nudian Corp. is a top-100 company in Xishan City, right? I didn’t realize we had such a big shot here.”

“Yeah, he’s been keeping a low profile. Maybe following him wouldn’t be so bad. He’s promising equality for everyone.”

Renault watched as people began to waver, shaking his head in disappointment. Their old ways of thinking were so deeply ingrained.

Cheng Zhiguo, seeing the crowd start to sway in his favor, felt elated. This was the perfect opportunity to seize control. Just as he was about to push his argument further, Renault pulled out his handgun and fired a shot into the air.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

**Bang!**

The loud crack of the gun silenced the crowd. Even the smug grin on Cheng Zhiguo’s face froze in place.

“Do you all not understand the reality of this world yet?” Renault said, his voice steady but commanding. “This is the apocalypse! The world outside is filled with flesh-eating zombies. What do we need? We need a base that can defend against zombies. We need weapons to kill them!”

Holstering his gun, Renault continued, “I don’t care what your thoughts are, but those who wish to stay, report to Fan Bing for registration. If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. We part ways here.”

Renault turned and patted Fan Bing on the shoulder. He knew that Fan Bing had been watching closely, and this was an important moment to set an example for him.

The survivors stood in stunned silence. Renault’s words had struck a chord with many of them. No one could deny the harsh truth of this new, dangerous world.

Seeing that his opportunity was slipping away, Cheng Zhiguo quickly cleared his throat and made one last desperate attempt to win people over. “Cough, cough... If anyone wants to leave with me, I have years of experience in leadership. I’m confident I can lead us to a life where we can be well-fed and clothed.”

While Cheng Zhiguo made his pitch, Fan Bing handed a bag of milk to a female survivor, who gratefully accepted it, bowing repeatedly in thanks.

Fan Bing, flustered by her gratitude, quickly helped her to her feet. “No need to be so polite. Just treat this place like your own home,” he said awkwardly.

Soon enough, the survivors split into two groups.

The larger group, having heard Renault’s words, decided to stay.

The smaller group, led by Cheng Zhiguo, included four or five individuals. After drinking his milk, Cheng Zhiguo theatrically wiped his mouth and handed the empty carton to someone else.

One of his followers, a man dressed in a dirty but well-tailored business suit, looked at Cheng Zhiguo with admiration. “Mr. Cheng, I’m a professional accountant. I hope I can rely on your leadership in the future,” he said, offering Cheng a gold-edged business card.

Cheng Zhiguo glanced at the card and his eyes lit up. He smiled and nodded approvingly, “Of course, of course.”

Others in his group mirrored the same sycophantic behavior, vying for Cheng’s favor.

Fan Bing, watching from the side, couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief. *These people must be crazy, still dreaming of their old jobs in times like these,* he thought.

After handing out the remaining milk, Fan Bing turned to Cheng Zhiguo and his group. “If you’re planning to leave, start packing. You can’t stay here,” he said firmly.

Cheng Zhiguo dusted himself off and, with a gentlemanly air, said, “Let’s go.”

Watching them leave, Fan Bing’s expression darkened. If they hadn’t gone on their own, he might have been tempted to shoot them himself.

Once the gate was closed behind them, Fan Bing addressed the remaining survivors. “Since you’ve chosen to stay, come over here and write down your basic information—just your name, age, and profession for now.”

He wasn’t exactly experienced in organizing people, so he copied what he’d seen back at the Xishan City base.

Soon, the survivors lined up in an orderly fashion, each taking their turn to write their details on Fan Bing’s sheet.

Inside the supermarket’s office, Guo Haoyu was wiping the sweat from his forehead when he voiced his confusion. “Boss, why are we recruiting people? The four of us could manage this supermarket just fine, right?”

Renault looked at Guo Haoyu’s earnest face and smiled. “Haoyu, you need to think long-term. We humans need to band together if we’re going to survive against the zombies.”

Guo Haoyu scratched his head, still not fully grasping the concept.

“It means you’ll have more people to help you with the work,” Alice chimed in, sitting on the office desk, lazily swinging her legs while munching on a bag of chips.

Renault gave Alice a surprised glance, thinking to himself, *Looks like Alice is sharper than she lets on.*