The lounge was quite small, containing two bunk beds that could accommodate four people.

Removing his backpack and placing it on the bed, Yang Mu reclined against the headboard and lit a cigarette.

He wasn't addicted to smoking; he merely had occasional cravings.

His first experience with a cigarette was at the age of eleven when he found one that had fallen from a pack on the ground.

At the time, he hadn't intended to smoke; he had simply discovered a lighter the day before...

Reflecting on this memory, Yang Mu realized he had likely just wanted to test the lighter's functionality rather than to smoke.

Was it the fault of the cigarette or the fire? This question was hard to unravel.

The moth that flutters toward the flame represents a declaration of love; the embers of a cigarette convey a different, more complex emotion, rich with the myriad flavors of life.

Chu Hong entered from outside, frowning as she waved her hand in front of her nose, looking at Yang Mu with confusion.

"You still smoke? I had no idea."

"You’d be surprised by what you don’t know. What’s happening outside?"

"Those people are in the monitoring room discussing matters with their headquarters. The directive from HQ is to eliminate all the zombies. They need to mobilize more military supplies and personnel for a massacre; there are so many zombies in the quarantine zone, it could take days to eradicate them."

"If they need to kill, they certainly can; my fear is..."

"What?"

"A group of soldiers gathered together, and if anyone turns into a zombie... never mind, I shouldn't speak of such things."

Chu Hong fiddled with her fingers, her eyes fixed on Yang Mu, and after a long pause, she said, "We're trapped now, and I see those soldiers don't have much to eat."

"They're on a mission, intending to extract the target swiftly, so they've brought along ample weapons and ammunition. Those are their priorities; they'd rather forgo food."

"Should we give our food to the soldiers?"

Yang Mu remained silent, knowing that eventually, they would have to produce something, unless he considered taking down the seven elite soldiers.

With a sigh, he extinguished his cigarette and retrieved food from his backpack to eat, reasoning that if he consumed more now, he would need to share less later.

As he ate, he began to choke and reached for his water bottle, gulping it down.

Chu Hong also had some food, though not much, as she couldn't carry too much weight.

She unwrapped a cream-filled pastry, having forgotten where she found it; she never used to eat such sweet foods.

One was enough to fill her, and mimicking Yang Mu, she took out her water but only sipped a little.

The water was heavy; she had only a single bottle.

She felt it wise to conserve it, judging from Yang Mu's stingy demeanor, it would likely be difficult to acquire food from him.

Unbeknownst to her, there was actually a faucet in the dining area.

As time passed slowly, three hours later, dreadful news arrived.

A troop of four thousand had approached the quarantine zone within two kilometers when a sudden mass mutation of zombies occurred.

It wasn’t due to bites; rather, as the group marched, half of them inexplicably transformed into zombies, and no one understood the cause.

Then the human soldiers were engaged in combat with the undead.

The zombies were indifferent, having lost their souls.

For the human soldiers, to kill their closest comrades was a devastating emotional turmoil that required little elaboration.

A moment of hesitation could cost many lives, creating even more zombies.

The assault plan failed, heightening the fear surrounding the existence of zombies.

Under the highest orders, all resources in the vicinity were mobilized, with a directive to construct a fifty-meter-high and five-meter-thick wall within a week in the quarantine zone.

This was intended to replace the previous five-meter wall, deemed insufficiently secure.

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A wall of this thickness meant they needed to build a corridor atop it to mount weaponry for combatting zombies.

Additional anti-air measures were deployed, forbidding any flying insects from escaping the quarantine zone.

This was the command issued; whether it could be executed was, of course, the concern of those below.

The quarantine zone was to be thoroughly sealed.

Scientists rushed to Hanning to convene discussions on the transmission routes of the zombie virus.

Until results emerged, no one would be allowed into the virus quarantine area.

The government's only option was to deploy drones to drop food, allowing all survivors to remain hidden at home, waiting for rescue.

Due to the presence of zombie birds, it was challenging to deliver food directly to survivors, but it was better than nothing.

Yang Mu found these developments maddening.

Typical of him, he had transformed a moment of bliss into one of despair.

What he thought would be an escape now felt like a descent into a death trap, with no resources even for airdrops.

Frustrated and unwilling to speak, he sat in silence across from Chu Hong for another hour until Xiang Ru summoned everyone to the dining hall for a meeting.

"We are armed and have brought no provisions. Now trapped, there’s no rescue plan in place yet, but rest assured, they will not abandon us! The pressing issue is our lack of food. I hope everyone can bring forth their rations for collective distribution; we can manage with less. We all have endured prolonged endurance training, and usually, a little sustenance suffices to keep us alive."

Hearing this, a faint smirk appeared at the corner of Yang Mu's mouth.

Endurance training through hunger?

That year, to evade the human traffickers pursuing him, he concealed himself in a cave for a full ten days and nights, surviving solely on dew. Ultimately, he emerged alive.

He understood the pangs of hunger and had brushed the brink of death brought on by starvation. When it came to endurance, he feared no one.

Everyone around Yang Mu turned to him; not everyone was willing to voluntarily share their food.

Liu Dongfeng might have taken the lead, but he was dead, and now Yang Mu's word held sway.

Yang Mu gazed at Xiang Ru, who was looking back at him with her strikingly beautiful eyes.

With a sigh, Yang Mu said:

“When your brother died, he mentioned that we might become confidants. I have never had a true confidant in my life, so it was rare for him to hold me in such regard. In his memory, I will share the food, but it must be clear: we will divide it into six portions for us and four for you. This food, if rationed wisely, will last us no more than two days. After that, we will face starvation. At that point, no one is obliged to share what remains, wouldn’t you agree?”

Xiang Ru furrowed her brow in contemplation before slowly nodding.

“Therefore, this is the one and only distribution of food. If your supplies run out, you will have to leave the rest to fate.”

“Agreed, let it be so.”

Xiang Ru was direct, as was Yang Mu.

He knew he was at a disadvantage, but there was no alternative; here, the power of words belonged to others.

He could only sacrifice a portion of resources to secure some semblance of fairness.

As everyone laid out their food, all eyes turned to Yang Mu.

He had indeed brought a considerable amount.

Xiang Ru was astonished, silently estimating that this haul must weigh around twenty pounds. He didn’t appear particularly strong, yet he bore this weight without showing signs of fatigue.

The atmosphere was subdued, so no one spoke. Xiang Ru shifted her focus from Yang Mu to distribute the food.

The division was fair; two piles were created, with the smaller one claimed by the warriors of the Battle Tiger, while Yang Mu would allocate the remaining portion per head.

Little Yao received some food as well, but Yang Mu was uncertain whether she would be willing to eat it.

If she still preferred meat, it posed a significant problem; there were no zombies to provide that in this confined space.

Once the food was divided, they moved on to allocating the rooms.

Three small rooms totaled less than a hundred square meters.

The premises were scarcely furnished.

The resting area featured two sets of bunk beds with a thin mattress atop, but there were no pillows or blankets.

The dining area contained a long table, with chairs yet to be brought in.

The monitoring room held two chairs, and aside from that, only a row of computer screens displaying the outside situation.

Yang Mu's group consisted of eight people: Hu Die, Gu Dassen, Wang Liang, Little Yao, Song Ren, Chu Hong, Ye Lianali, and himself.

Xiang Ru decided that the special forces would occupy the monitoring room.

They moved a double bed from the resting area into the monitoring room for the special forces to take turns resting.

Yang Mu’s group would utilize the resting area.

The dining room would serve as a communal space.

Yang Mu readily agreed, saying nothing further, and returned to the resting area with his remaining food, ultimately choosing the upper bunk to lie down.

From this vantage, he could reach the ceiling, providing an escape route to the loft, allowing for maneuverability in case of emergencies.

Thus began an unexpected cohabitation, with Yang Mu ignoring the others as he lay there, fiddling with Wang Liang's phone, staring absently at a screenshot of Jiang Yuanyuan's photo.

It was not the girl herself who captivated him, but rather another photo in the background—a picture of her with an older man.

At first, he had paid it little mind, but as he stared longer, he realized he recognized that man, a memory that sent a chill through him.

It was the very man who had taken Yang Mu from his home when he was merely three years old.

The specifics had faded, and he had long forgotten the location of his hometown, but he could never erase the face of that trafficker from his memory—a visage etched in his mind for years.

After escaping the traffickers, Yang Mu had wandered into Han City.

He always felt a strange familiarity with this city, believing it to be his hometown, and thus had never left.

Now, it seemed that this place was perhaps not his stolen home at all, but rather the traffickers' own origin.

That man had brought him to Han Ning, where they had lived for several months before moving on.

At that time, he was just old enough to remember, which explained the inexplicable sense of familiarity with the city.

Indeed, Yang Mu recalled Jiang Yuanyuan as well.

The man locked him in a cellar for two days and nights without food.

In the darkness, he could only tilt his head upward, gazing at the faint light filtering through the slats above.

Suddenly, he caught sight of a little girl.

She wore no pants, only a small red apron, likely around the same age as Yang Mu.

Standing above, she munched on a steamed bun while nibbling her fingers.

The two exchanged glances for a moment, and the girl tore off a piece of the bun, dropping it through the gaps in the bars.

Yang Mu quickly searched the darkness, ultimately finding the morsel in the muddy filth, ravenously swallowing it.

The little girl squatted down, watching Yang Mu eat, her sweet smile illuminating the gloom.

She was still too young to understand that the creature in the cellar was a boy, incapable of distinguishing between a boy and a puppy.

Her only desire was to share her food, so she reached down once more, grabbing a large chunk of the bun and tossing it into the mire of the cellar.