Nightfall brought a different rhythm to the wasteland. While most zombies slumbered under the watch of their advanced counterparts, mutated plants ventured out to hunt. The human squad decided to press on until midnight, determined to uncover new leads before the Man-Eater Flower healed its wounds—capture would prove far more challenging without their numbers.
Before departing, they received a signal from Nan Tingjian. Though he didn't join their ranks, as their nominal leader, they were duty-bound to report progress and location. Knowing Nan Tingjian was nearby, the squad paused, awaiting orders.
Among the four, the youngest member—a twenty-something rookie with barely a month in the（base）—observed his comrades' behavior with curiosity. He'd only seen Nan Tingjian once: the day the short man had erred in speech, only to be struck down by Nan Tingjian's rage. The rookie wondered if Nan Tingjian's power was something like control, though ordinary telekinetic abilities struggled with environmental factors and living targets. He dared not ask questions, merely waiting in silence.
Ten minutes later, Nan Tingjian emerged. Clad in his robe, he carried a severed zombie head, its stale scent clinging to his clothes. "It attacked the Man-Eater Flower," he said, tossing the head to the squad. The zombie, a high-tier specimen, had bitten the flower before vanishing. Its decaying mouth still clung to floral stems, a scent likely to lure the vengeful plant.
The squad wrapped the head in cloth and set off, devising a new plan. Along the way, the rookie asked, "Why doesn't the Chief join us?" His voice betrayed his assumption that Nan Tingjian would lead. An older teammate scoffed. "You think he cares about tasks? He's here by accident."
Beneath the Ruins
Meanwhile, Qian Hui followed the familiar silhouette into the shadows. His chili plant squirmed in protest, tugging at his sleeve. "Stop!" it seemed to plead. Ignoring it, Qian Hui pressed on, biscuits crumbs falling from his pocket. The game's stamina warning blared, but he couldn't resist the pull of the figure ahead.
He stumbled over a collapsed wall, barely avoiding a Danger Zone (3) sign. Darkness swallowed the landscape as a guttural scream echoed—a zombie's death cry. Qian Hui froze, then spotted a refuge: a crumbling concrete alcove. He wedged himself inside, feeding water to his plants and devouring half a cookie.
Lost… he thought. But if he stays here, maybe I'll find him by dawn.
The chili healed noticeably overnight. When Qian Hui awoke, it stood unsteadily on its roots, branches twitching with cautious energy. "Thank you," Qian Hui murmured, pressing a med pill into its leaves. The plant's loyalty meter edged closer to 80%.
The Bloodshed
Hundreds of meters away, three mid-tier zombies converged near a bloodstained alley. Their growls faded as Nan Tingjian approached, his silver hair and crimson eyes glowing faintly. With a casual flick, he lifted one zombie bodily, snapping its spine like kindling. The others fled, but one scrambled up a rock face, only to be dragged down by unseen chains. Nan Tingjian dissected the corpses methodically, his blade severing limbs and organs with clinical precision.
Advanced zombies must be nearby, he mused, turning toward the ruins.
The Base's Secret
Back at Blackridge Base, Liang Jie gripped his comms device. "No leads," he reported to the faint voice on the other end. Silence stretched before a calm reply: "Keep searching. Be thorough."
Liang Jie's jaw tightened. The escaped mutated chili—Xiao Zi—had evaded them for days. The base's prized asset couldn't be lost. He ordered a tracker hound to be dispatched immediately.
In a subterranean vault, a man unlocked a cage containing a trembling Mimosa pudica. Metal rings clamped its branches, chains linking it to a control panel. "Obey," he snarled, tightening the leash. The plant shuddered, leaves drooping in fear.
Dawn's Pursuit
At dawn, Qian Hui ventured back into the ruins. His plants hid in his pockets as he followed the scent of blood. He found mangled corpses—mid-tier zombies, their（Crystal core）missing. Someone's been hunting them, he realized, harvesting the cores for his plants.
Three cores later, his balance surged to $4,700. The game's interface flashed: 3 Mid-Tier Zombies Eliminated!
As he crested a hill, he spotted a figure climbing a crumbling staircase. His heart pounded. Nan Tingjian?
The man turned. Silver hair and crimson eyes—alive, yet unmistakably a zombie. Qian Hui's legs buckled. "Xiao Jing—!" he choked out, rushing forward.
Nan Tingjian's hand closed around his throat. "You called me that?" His voice was velvet wrapped in ice. Qian Hui struggled to breathe. Is he human? A zombie?
Above them, the morning sun pierced the cracks in the building. Light glinted off Nan Tingjian's teeth—a grotesque, beautiful smile.