Chapter 41: A House Divided

Jiang Qiyu walked down the stairs with brisk, purposeful strides, her sharp gaze sweeping across the line as she counted the heads. "Twenty-three... we are one short." Her tone was frigid, laced with an ominous sense of foreboding.

A low, stifled sob suddenly erupted from the group, causing those nearby to turn and look. A woman stood there, her face buried in her tear-streaked hands. She was whimpering, her chest and shoulders heaving with the weight of an unspeakable, overwhelming grief. Her fingertips trembled, as if she barely had the strength to remain standing.

It was Liu Mei, the wife of Zhang Qiang. Her face was as pale as paper, and even her movements to wipe away her tears were sluggish and listless.

"What happened?" Jiang Qiyu asked, her voice dropping to a low, stern register as she locked eyes with a stout man at the front of the line, his features shifty and rat-like.

He was known as Producer Wang, a bottom-tier producer from a disreputable film crew before the apocalypse. He was a slick, slippery character, prone to deception and cowardice.

Producer Wang’s eyes darted around evasively. He stammered, "We... we ran into some trouble while scavenging for stone at the stadium..."

Liu Mei suddenly jerked her head up, her wails cutting through his excuse. "You’re lying! You pushed him! I saw it with my own eyes—you threw him to the zombie horde just to save your own skins! He... he was eaten alive!"

Her cries were gut-wrenching. The others in the line stiffened, their breathing becoming shallow and guarded. They lowered their heads, trying to bury themselves away from the suffocating weight of the accusation. Jiang Qiyu’s cold, blade-like gaze swept over them, pinning them in place until they were too terrified to move. No one spoke up to defend or refute Liu Mei’s claim; only the silence of complicity made the atmosphere even more stifling. In truth, while they hadn't struck the fatal blow themselves, their cold indifference and cowardice at that critical moment had pushed Zhang Qiang into the abyss of death. In every sense, they were accomplices.

Jiang Qiyu’s expression turned terrifyingly dark, a surge of fury roiling in her chest. She was reminded of her past life at the Dawn Base, how she had been exploited, squeezed dry, and ultimately abandoned without a shred of mercy.

"Producer Wang," Jiang Qiyu said, her voice chillingly hollow. "Come with me."

The blood drained from Producer Wang’s face. His legs shook like reeds in the wind, and he could barely stand. He retreated half a step, his eyes flickering, unable to meet her piercing stare. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled to speak, his voice trembling violently. "M-Ms. Jiang, I... I... I was only doing it for the good of everyone..."

"For the good of everyone?" Jiang Qiyu let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "I think you mean for your own sake!"

She seized him by the collar and dragged him toward the villa. Lu Yao followed silently in her wake, his eyes cold and predatory, like a beast coiled and ready to strike.

Jiang Qiyu shoved Producer Wang into a corner and pressed her pistol against his forehead. "Speak! Tell me exactly what happened!"

Terrified out of his wits, Producer Wang let out a pungent, foul-smelling leak from his trousers. "I... I'll tell you! I'll tell you! We were at the stadium scavenging for rocks when a group of zombies suddenly burst out of the security office... we... we panicked..."

"Panicked?" Jiang Qiyu pressed, her voice dangerous. "So you used Zhang Qiang as a human shield?"

Producer Wang’s face was ashen; his lips trembled, unable to form a word.

"What do you think you are?" A flash of disgust crossed Jiang Qiyu’s eyes. "Nothing but a piece of trash hiding behind a bit of petty cunning! Without me, you would have died countless times over!"

The Producer’s face flushed from white to a deep, angry red. His chest heaved, and fueled by the humiliation, his legs stopped shaking. He suddenly straightened his back, shouting in a fit of shame-filled rage.

"You... you foul shrew! Don't think you can do whatever you want just because you have a gun! This base will be mine sooner or later! One day, I’ll make you kneel and beg for mercy!" His voice was shrill and arrogant, dripping with malice.

Before he could finish, he lunged, violently tearing open his sweat-drenched shirt to pull out a dark pistol he had kept hidden against his skin. As the cold muzzle emerged into the dim light, it glinted with a chilling, metallic sheen—the very weapon he had stolen from the guard squad’s warehouse during the chaos.

His face was contorted, veins bulging on his neck like a cornered beast. "Who do you think you are? You're just a whore who climbed to the top by using men!" He spat with venomous intent. "This base is mine! I’ll make you wish you were dead!"

He leveled the gun at the center of Jiang Qiyu’s forehead. "You bitch! Go to hell!" he shrieked, his finger trembling on the trigger. He looked like a mad beast, his hatred almost palpable. He gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead, his arm shaking from the force of his own agitation.

Facing the barrel, Jiang Qiyu gave a look of utter disdain. She slowly raised her own pistol and aimed it directly at his chest.

Seeing her movement, a flicker of terror crossed the Producer’s eyes, but there was no turning back. He took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. Yet, Jiang Qiyu was faster. Almost at the exact moment he fired, she pulled her trigger as well.

*Bang!*

The bullet grazed the Producer’s ear, leaving a bloody streak across his cheek. Paralyzed by terror, he collapsed to the ground, losing control of his bowels.

Jiang Qiyu holstered her weapon, looking down at him as if he were an insect. "Get out. Take your things and leave my base immediately."

She took a deep breath, trying to quell the fire in her heart. She walked over to Liu Mei and gently patted her shoulder. "My condolences."

Liu Mei wept harder, clutching Jiang Qiyu’s hand as if it were a lifeline. "Boss, I beg you, you must avenge my husband!"

Looking into the woman’s desperate eyes, Jiang Qiyu felt a complex swell of emotions. In this apocalypse, human life was as cheap as grass, but she knew she had to protect her territory and her people.

Just then, Lu Yao walked up to Jiang Qiyu and gently took her hand. His touch was warm and dry, as if it could drive away the chill in her heart.

"Big sister," Lu Yao said softly, "don't be sad. I will protect you."

His voice was quiet, yet it carried a reassuring strength. Jiang Qiyu turned to look at him, seeing the steady, unwavering light in his eyes.