Chapter Twenty-Four: A Lone Tree Does Not Make a Forest

Fan Li, gripping the katana, descended the stairs.

Fan Li gazed at the tightly shut security door before him, deep in thought. He had a premonition—behind that door, an eye was watching him.

Suddenly, Fan Li took a step forward and knocked sharply on the door.

“Open up.”

His eyes were sharp, fixed intently on the door.

After four or five seconds of silence, a cautious voice called out from within, “Who are you?”

“Your neighbor. I live on the third floor.”

“You’re not crazy?”

A suspicious question echoed from inside, as if doubting Fan Li’s identity.

“Obviously. Do you really think those zombies outside could talk to you like this?”

A few more seconds passed.

The door creaked open.

Given the world outside was crawling with zombies, opening the door to a stranger clearly required a mental struggle.

A young man of about twenty-five appeared before Fan Li. He was thin, with deep-set eyes and unremarkable features—evidently suffering from poor sleep, as the dark circles beneath his eyes were pronounced. The most distinctive thing about him was the flamboyant tattoo sleeve on his right arm: some kind of mythical creature with a long, lascivious tongue, giving it an eerie allure.

In that tattooed hand, he held a knife—not a kitchen knife, but something more like a machete.

Young, frail, and not exactly trustworthy.

That was the basic impression Fan Li gathered.

“If I were you, I’d put the knife down first,” Fan Li advised.

One could never be too careful; in this apocalypse, the law had all but vanished. This land had become a paradise for the wicked. No order meant danger was far greater than in peacetime.

“You’re cautious,” the tattooed man remarked, glancing behind him to confirm he was alone, then, reassured by Fan Li’s ability to communicate, relaxed a little.

He didn’t lower his machete, but leaned against the doorframe and asked, “Do you know what’s happening out there?”

“Zombies!”

“Damn it, why do we have to go through this? I saw someone get swarmed by zombies—their intestines and liver were ripped out and eaten right in front of me. I thought I was dreaming, that I’d wake up and it’d be over, but I can’t sleep at all. Who could sleep in an environment like this?”

“And every night, I hear banging and clattering from upstairs. Was that you making all that noise? What are you doing? Don’t you need to sleep?”

The tattooed man rambled on, leaving Fan Li a bit surprised.

For a moment, Fan Li wondered if this man was crazy too.

But after some observation, Fan Li concluded that the man wasn’t truly deranged—just badly shaken and desperate for someone to talk to. Seeing a living person, he simply needed to vent.

As Fan Li’s silence left him at a loss, the tattooed man’s eyes grew sly. He tightened his grip on the knife, deliberately bringing it in front of his thigh to exert some pressure. “Do you have any food?”

“Damn it, if I’d known this was coming, I’d have stocked up. You wouldn’t believe it, but I made a packet of instant noodles last two days!”

“So, do you have food or not?”

His tone grew louder toward the end, verging on a threat. The tattooed man, accustomed to intimidating others by reputation, seemed to think hunger could be solved by force. He just wanted to get something to eat from this survivor.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I said, put down your knife.”

The tattooed man frowned, feeling slighted. He was about to threaten further when suddenly he was seized by a strange sense—standing before him was no ordinary man, but some indescribable, bloodthirsty monster.

He staggered back, finally noticing the mottled bloodstains on Fan Li’s clothes—a few yet to be washed away. The old terror crept back into his body, his muscles trembling.

For days, strange noises and even inhuman howls had come from upstairs. What if this guy, driven mad by disaster, had killed all the other tenants?

The tattooed man remembered scenes from horror movies he’d seen, where a deranged figure went door to door, murdering anyone who answered.

Only now did he notice Fan Li’s peculiar attire. Though it had rained yesterday, the temperature was still in the twenties, yet this man wore full winter gear—gloves, a scarf, only his eyes visible, wild and indifferent.

He realized with mounting dread that he might really be facing a lunatic killer.

Though he liked to call himself a man of the world, with a “big brother” above and loyal followers around, he was no hardened criminal.

“This guy’s got an unstable temperament,” the tattooed man thought silently.

He pulled himself together, realizing what he needed to do, and hurriedly set his machete down at his feet.

Fan Li stepped inside, and the tattooed man dared not stop him, retreating step by step.

This is my home!

“What’s your name?”

“I… I’m Yang Shuo.” His pride wanted to resist, but instinct compelled him to answer.

“Are you alone here?”

“Yes.”

“What do you do?”

“I usually collect protec—no, I mean, collect rent.”

One question after another. Under the shadow of fear, pride had lost all power, and whenever Fan Li asked something new, Yang Shuo answered promptly.

With the questions over, the oppressive atmosphere lifted a little, and Yang Shuo relaxed.

“Interested in joining me?”

“Huh?”

Yang Shuo looked at Fan Li, puzzled.

A moment later, the oddly dressed man spoke: “It’s dangerous outside. People like you, who’d rather starve at home than go out for food, will be weeded out soon enough.”

“Come with me. Help me out. Even if death is inevitable, you’ll at least live a little longer.”

That was Fan Li’s thinking—one thread alone does not make a cord, one tree alone does not make a forest. Though he had Aili by his side, the existence of the Titan and the prospect of battles with other monsters meant his own strength was still lacking. To survive, he needed every resource.

Food and helpers both increased his odds.

This man’s first impression wasn’t great, but he was sane, and if fed, would be stronger. Most importantly, he didn’t seem particularly brave, making him easier to control.

“Even if I die, I’ll live a little longer? What kind of line is that? Are you joking?” Yang Shuo, who’d once considered himself a notable figure with connections, now found himself being asked to switch allegiances. Wasn’t that humiliating?

He was about to refuse when he remembered the pressure Fan Li had exerted on him before. His voice dropped to a mumble: “Alright…”

Ding!

A crisp chime sounded in Fan Li’s ears, followed by a line of blood-red text.

[Special Achievement Unlocked]