The bald man grabbed the scruffy blonde by the collar and growled, "Brother, starving for days, huh? Yesterday was bountiful. Come by Room 201 when you're free." With that, he dragged the bewildered youth away.
Ning Gu exhaled deeply; An Bai did the same. But the bald man's words echoed in their minds, gnawing at what little resolve they had left.
Soon, two figures arrived at Room 701 and knocked on the door.
"We've got plenty of food," the bald man called out, his voice dripping with false camaraderie. "Come to Room 201 later. Better alive than dead from hunger."
The door swung open—but it wasn't Room 701. It was the neighbor's.
Tang Ze leaned against the frame, his tone icy. "Keep it down. You're making too much noise."
The bald man and his companion exchanged glances. Lately, every man had been deferential to them. Who did this guy think he was?
"Are you looking to die?" The blonde charged toward Tang Ze but froze mid-step, stunned silent as he took in the scene inside.
Curious, the bald man stepped forward—and froze as well.
On the dining table sat steaming dishes: braised chicken with mushrooms, succulent pig's trotters, stir-fried lettuce. And beside the feast, a woman nibbled delicately on her meal.
"B-boss..." the blonde stammered, his voice trembling. "Isn't that... the livestreamer girl?"
For days, even the prettiest women had grown gaunt from starvation. Yet here she was, radiant as if untouched by the apocalypse.
"Not bad for a guy like you," the bald man sneered, pushing past Tang Ze into the apartment, his lackey trailing close behind.
Tang Ze smiled faintly and closed the door behind them.
The blonde lunged for the pig's trotters, grabbing one with his bare hands. "Boss, try this—it's delicious!"
Sun Ting, unfazed by the intruders, sauntered over to the couch and curled up, her movements deliberate and calm.
The bald man's eyes locked onto Sun Ting, greed overtaking his features. "Listen, kid. Hand over the food and the girl, and we'll make this easy on you."
"This is mine," Tang Ze replied, his tone deceptively mild. "Not happening."
Sun Ting watched silently, her thoughts clear: *These idiots are dead men walking.*
"Suit yourself," the blonde spat, pulling out a small knife. "Step back, Boss. Don't want your suit stained with blood." He lunged at Tang Ze—but before the blade could connect, a fist slammed into his face.
CRACK.
The blonde spun like a top, his nose caving in. Even the bald man's eyes widened in shock, and Sun Ting stared, momentarily stunned. She'd known Tang Ze carried a gun—but his strength? That was unexpected.
Any lingering doubts about resistance vanished instantly. No one wanted to end up like the blonde.
"Xiao Tingting," Tang Ze said lightly, lifting the unconscious blonde with one hand as though he weighed nothing, "open the window, would you?"
Sun Ting obeyed without hesitation. Tang Ze tossed the body out like discarded trash.
THUD.
No one below paid attention. In these times, people grew numb to the sight of bodies falling from windows—another victim of despair.
Tang Ze dusted off his hands and sat back down, smiling. "Sit. Eat. Fetch another plate for our guest."
The bald man watched Sun Ting's compliant demeanor, unease creeping up his spine. What exactly had this young man done to her?
As Sun Ting moved gracefully to fetch utensils, the bald man felt no desire—only fear.
"How's the meal?" Tang Ze asked casually, picking up his chopsticks. "Not bad, right?"
The bald man didn't dare touch his food.
"Am I not good enough company?" Tang Ze's smile faded, his eyes narrowing.
The bald man hastily grabbed his chopsticks. "Misunderstanding, brother! No offense meant!"
"Good. Now tell me—what's happening outside?"
The bald man didn't dare lie. "It's chaos. People are killing each other over supplies. Every convenience store and supermarket nearby has been looted clean."
"What's your boss planning?"
"He says once we run out of supplies, we'll raid neighboring communities."
"How much do you have left?"
"If we ration carefully, maybe a month."
"Ah," Tang Ze said, pulling out a gun and placing it on the table. The bald man's face went pale. "Is this what your boss is looking for? I hear he's desperate enough to trade lives for bread and water."
The bald man nodded mutely.
Tang Ze set down his chopsticks, having eaten his fill. "What are you waiting for? Eat up. This is your last supper."
Tears streamed down the bald man's face. "Please, brother! Spare me! I'll give you all my supplies—I beg you!"
"Hurry up, then. Don't waste it. Say thank you when you're done."
The bald man shoveled food into his mouth, tasting nothing but ash. He'd thought Dong Fei was ruthless—but this young man was something else entirely. "Thank you, brother," he choked out.
"Now," Tang Ze said, rising to his feet, "jump. Save me the trouble of shooting you. Bloodstains are hard to clean, you know."
The bald man backed away, hands raised in supplication, until his back hit the wall. "We're not enemies, brother! Please—"
BANG.
A single red dot appeared between the bald man's eyes. His body crumpled backward, plummeting to the ground below.
From the floor below, Dong Fei and his crew heard the gunshot and paled.
"Boss! It's Baldy!" someone shouted from the balcony.
Dong Fei rushed to the railing, his expression darkening at the sight of the corpse. "If he doesn't come after us, we shouldn't provoke him. No point in making an enemy of someone like that."
Though reluctant, Dong Fei knew better than to argue. He sent a message to the group chat: "Brother, we've got food and drinks. Come by when you're free."
It was an olive branch—an attempt at peace. But Dong Fei had other plans. If Tang Ze took the bait, it would be a trap worthy of the Hongmen Banquet (a historical ambush disguised as hospitality).
Back in Room 701, Tang Ze chuckled softly. He had time to deal with them later. For now, the priority was securing more supplies.
He glanced at Sun Ting, who was massaging his feet. "Get some rest tonight. Wouldn't want you collapsing."
"Aren't you supposed to be a dance streamer?" he asked suddenly. "Show me something."
"What style does Master prefer?" Sun Ting replied, her voice smooth.
"You decide."
Sun Ting understood immediately. She turned on the music and began to move, her lithe figure swaying hypnotically.