Chapter Nine: You'd Best Look After Yourself

Watermelon soon returned, and everyone gathered around to eat together.

“Qi Xi, what do you do?” The atmosphere was a bit heavy. After taking a sip of juice, Li Feidao broke the strange silence and asked, “And you, as well—you both seem quite out of the ordinary.”

“We are, of course, not ordinary.” Xi Hongchen chuckled, putting on airs as he rattled off a series of phrases he thought sounded cool: “We are persistent geniuses—stubborn, mad, unique. In this world overrun by zombies and stripped of morality, we keep moving, guided by mysterious memories, seeking the truth of this world. If we succeed, we become lords and heroes; if we fail, we are nothing but worms and filth. By making the path home clear, we march onward with song, unstoppable by anyone…”

Xi Hongchen was about to continue his enthusiastic monologue, paying no heed to the odd looks from the others, but Qi Xi couldn’t stand it any longer. He gave him a swift kick. “Are you still stuck in your adolescent delusions?”

Watermelon had no choice but to shut up, though he looked aggrieved, casting a resentful glance at Qi Xi. “Senior…”

“Shut up.”

Qi Xi glared at the fool. Watermelon could only look bullied, lowering his head in silent complaint while gnawing on a chicken wing.

This little farce drew laughter from the three women, and even Li Feidao and Nan Housheng relaxed, the tension in the air easing considerably.

“Feidao, what about you? What do you do?” Qi Xi sat down, stubbed out his cigarette, and took a sip of Red Bull.

With a blank expression, Li Feidao replied, “Freelance writer.”

“Huh?” Qi Xi thought he’d misheard. With a build like Li Feidao’s, he was actually a literary type? It was hard to imagine this burly man churning out sentimental prose.

“What, you got a problem with that?” Li Feidao asked.

“Of course not. I’m just a little surprised, that’s all.”

“Oh, come on, ‘freelance writer’? Brother Dao, aren’t you just an online author… No, a ‘net-sitter,’ peddling words for a living.” Nan Housheng, ever the mischief-maker, jumped in to tease his friend.

“Don’t look down on online writers. Writing novels is no easy task. And publishing on the internet can absolutely count as being a freelance writer—why not?” Li Feidao shot Nan Housheng a fierce look, clearly displeased.

“Wait, Brother Dao, you really write web novels? What do you write? What’s your pen name?” Xi Hongchen suddenly asked.

Li Feidao coughed awkwardly. “Ahem, you wouldn’t have heard of my humble works anyway, and I’m what you’d call an ‘abandoned’ author, so I’m not famous. I’m not named after fruit or vegetables either, so I’d rather not share my pen name.”

Seeing Li Feidao truly didn’t want to talk about it, Watermelon dropped the subject with a disappointed shrug.

Just then, a woman’s voice sounded. “Um… Qi Xi, thank you for saving me earlier.” Xiao Fengyu spoke shyly.

“It was nothing, just lending a hand.” Qi Xi waved it off. “Don’t mention it.”

“Still, thank you,” Xiao Fengyu insisted, blushing.

“I heard you.”

“…Thank you again…”

“How many times are you going to thank me? Is there no end to it?” Qi Xi looked at her in mild exasperation. What a troublesome woman.

“…Okay…” Xiao Fengyu lowered her head, not daring to continue. Talking to this man made her more nervous than she had ever felt before, and she stumbled over her words.

Everyone was watching the two of them, wearing expressions that seemed to suggest there was something going on between them. Xiao Fengyu’s face instantly flushed crimson. She wanted to explain that she had no such intentions, but seeing Qi Xi’s indifferent attitude, she thought if she said that aloud, everyone would just look down on her. She was deeply grateful to Qi Xi, and to say she felt nothing would be a lie—but Qi Xi clearly wasn’t interested, and that left her feeling a little disappointed.

After finishing the food, Qi Xi drank his Red Bull in one long swig, glanced at Watermelon, and said, “Watermelon, come outside with me for a moment.”

“Oh.” The two stood up and walked toward the door.

Nan Housheng watched them go and quickly called out, “Hey! Qi Xi! Brother Qi!”

“Hm?” Qi Xi frowned, stopping to turn around.

“About what happened in the supermarket today—I’m really sorry. I was so scared, I lost my head and just ran blindly. I’m really sorry, I hope you can forgive me.” Nan Housheng had been feeling guilty about it all along, and finally got the words out, anxiously awaiting Qi Xi’s response.

Qi Xi looked at the chubby man indifferently and said, “It’s not about whether I forgive you. It’s about you. To be blunt, you’re the textbook example of a liability in a team. There’s an old saying: ‘Fear not a formidable enemy, but a foolish ally.’ If you keep this up, one day you’ll get everyone killed. When that time comes, will you be glad you survived, or will you just keep muttering apologies to a pile of corpses? If you can overcome your cowardice and arrogance, you’ll be a real person. If not, well… you know what to do.”

Though Qi Xi’s tone was calm, every word struck home, shattering Nan Housheng’s self-deceptions. He stood there, stunned, head bowed in pain, unable to speak.

Li Feidao frowned, but said nothing. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help his old friend, but Qi Xi was right.

Having said his piece, Qi Xi turned and left.

Qi Xi and Watermelon soon reached a quiet corner—an empty room on the third floor.

“Finally, I get to be alone with you, Senior,” Watermelon exhaled, sounding relieved.

For some reason, those words sounded oddly suggestive. Qi Xi ignored it and said, “Tell me the intelligence you have.”

“Alright.” Watermelon’s memories from his previous life were critical—major events tied to the origin of the zombie world. Only by obtaining the world’s source could they return to the Lord God’s space, so Qi Xi needed to be extremely cautious.

“Let’s start with how I died in my previous life. It was humanity itself that lit the atomic fire. The detonation of nuclear weapons plunged the world into ruin. We were both vaporized in an instant, leaving not a trace behind. As for what happened next in this world, I have no idea—whether anyone survived, I can’t say.”

Qi Xi frowned at this. “Nuclear weapons? Was it because there were too many zombies, and they had no choice but to use such weapons?”

“Maybe.”

“Go on.”

“In that previous life, the ones who came to rescue us weren’t the leaders of our own country, but people from the other side of the globe. We went there, and that’s when everything happened.”

“Wait, we died in America?”

“Yes.”

“I see… Continue.”

“In the end, we learned that the so-called virus turning people into zombies wasn’t really a pathogen, but a vector for evolution. This evolutionary agent constantly stimulated human cells and genes, forcing people to evolve, trying to push them into a realm beyond comprehension. But humans simply weren’t qualified—their physical flaws made it impossible to evolve so far. The result was inevitable failure. But once the process was underway, it couldn’t be stopped, so as the genes collapsed under the strain, people mutated into zombies. The genetic collapse made zombies weaker—less defensive, less aggressive, their bones brittle. But the evolutionary virus gave them one ability: unless their brains were destroyed, they could keep going.”

“Evolutionary agent… Evolution… Pushed to evolve… Failed and turned into zombies…” Qi Xi nodded thoughtfully.

“We searched America for a long time and finally found some clues. But by the time we reached the labs, everyone was dead and all the evidence had been destroyed. We hit a dead end—no progress after that. So this time, we must obtain the evidence. But first, we have to survive and get stronger.”

Qi Xi nodded in agreement. “Well said, but how do we get stronger? If I’m right, we have to use this virus to become evolved humans, correct?”

“Yes. You can extract and dilute the agent—the virus—so there’s only a tiny fraction left, then heat it to weaken it. Inject it into the body while it’s half-dead; the dying but not dead virus will continue to push the body to evolve, but only slightly—within what a human body can handle.” Watermelon explained the method to become a genetic human—using the virus from zombies’ bodies. “It’s the dumbest and riskiest way, but it’s all we’ve got.”

Qi Xi suddenly thought of something and raised an eyebrow. “So there’s no such thing as zombie cores, mutant crystals, evolutionary bones, or zombie meat?”

Watermelon understood Qi Xi’s sarcasm and smiled wryly. “Of course not. Zombies are failed products of evolution. How could a defective product produce treasures to help the successful evolve? It makes no sense.”

“Hm… you have a point.” Qi Xi nodded. “Now tell me all the details.”

An hour later, Qi Xi and Watermelon returned.

By now, dusk was settling in. The group had moved to an old man’s room, where there were many worn-out mats piled up—the old man had been reluctant to throw them away over the years. Luckily, they wouldn’t have to sleep on the cement floor. The plan was for the three women to take the rickety bed, while the men slept on mats on the floor.

Before night fell completely, Qi Xi made a new suggestion: “I think tomorrow we should search the police station and the hospital.”