“…What worker?” Jian Lulu blinked, as if she hadn’t understood.
“Zombie worker.” Mu Shan took out two character cards and pushed them in front of the other woman like a salesperson. “My skill derivative, hardworking zombie workers that don’t talk, obey orders perfectly. They can help with farm work, and when you don’t need them, you can kill them for 1 gold coin.”
Zero brains per hundred kilometers.
True black-hearted foreman.
Jian Lulu perked up. She took the cards and examined them closely. On the small cards was a picture of an ugly green-skinned zombie: one sturdy one, and one dwarf zombie.
When she saw the system description [Retains carnivorous instincts but won’t actively attack the human faction], she made her decision decisively.
“I want this one.” She kept the one [A sturdy zombie].
Jian Lulu smiled. “In exchange, you can wait three days for the vegetables to ripen. I have some bean stock left, or you can take gold coins if you prefer.”
Mu Shan smiled too. “I want some soybeans, and fresh vegetables.”
“Deal. Add me as a friend. I’ll contact you in three days. If you get more zombie workers later, prioritize me.”
Jian Lulu was straightforward, and the two quickly friended each other.
Mu Shan had only mentioned it casually, but hadn’t expected such enthusiasm. “Do you need that many workers?”
Jian Lulu took a drag on her cigarette and sighed helplessly. “The higher my profession levels, the bigger my farmland gets. I can’t spend all day in the fields. I need a ton of manpower for picking, watering, plowing, fertilizing, weeding, pest control… Farming is complicated.”
Mu Shan nodded to show she understood.
She got a bag of soybeans and parted ways with the agronomist.
Soybeans were rich in high-quality plant protein and stored well. She hadn’t found milk or eggs yet, and no one to trade with, so this would supplement her diet.
It started raining again on the way back. Bean-sized raindrops pitter-pattered against the car window, blurring her vision.
The air grew damp again. Mu Shan drove toward the park while sighing inwardly, ‘The washed clothes can’t be dried after all.’
The outdoor temperature kept dropping steadily. Fortunately, she had planned ahead: she wore a fur vest under her jacket, the soft fur trapping the heat around her torso.
Her feet were a bit cold, though. She had no spare socks or underwear.
The zombies wandering the rain-soaked roads looked especially wretched. As Mu Shan’s car passed, they reached out to chase it, only to slip in the puddles and splat face-first onto the ground one after another, too dumb to brace with their hands. It was hilariously pathetic.
Mu Shan didn’t let free gold coins pass by. She didn’t even get out of the car, just rolled down the window halfway.
The peashooter aimed at zombie heads. Thud thud thud—three peas netted three gold coins.
Lightning-fast kill. Mu Shan floored it, and the car roared away.
She made it back to the safe house before total darkness fell.
Her pant legs were inevitably soaked, and her clothes were damp with moisture.
Mu Shan carefully checked the front door for leaks again, then boiled water for washing up while dumping the traded goods on the dining table.
The medicines were assorted scraps—half boxes, single blister packs of capsules. More than enough to stock her emergency kit.
The food was all packaged instant meals, stored in the cabinet with the rice.
She tossed the gas card aside for now, along with the confession balloon, letting them gather dust in her backpack.
Ten minutes later, Mu Shan had washed her hands and face. The leftover rice porridge from yesterday heated up in the small pot, filling the air with a fragrant steam.
She opened a bag of preserved mustard and bamboo shoots, tore open a sausage to go with the porridge.
Outside, cold winds howled and rain poured, but at least she had her own little home and a decent dinner.
The agronomist’s soybeans were precious; she stored them in an empty bottle away from water and light.
Mu Shan grabbed a small handful, put them in a plastic dish, and soaked them in water just covering the beans. Bean sprouts were the quickest way to get fresh greens.
After dinner, Mu Shan did her usual yoga on the bed when she got a private message from the old driver.
[Feng Wei (Old Driver)]: It’ll rain all day tomorrow. Free the morning after to scavenge supplies? We have a fixed team.
[Mu Shan (Collector)]: How do you know it’ll rain tomorrow?
[Feng Wei (Old Driver)]: I have a friend who can predict weather.
[Mu Shan (Collector)]: Sure, touch base tomorrow evening.
[Feng Wei (Old Driver)]: OK.
Heading out early the morning after for supplies—she still had two card draws left. Right now, she only had one environment card, one item card, and one character card. It left her feeling uneasy.
A bit later, the agronomist messaged too.
[Jian Lulu (Agronomist)]: Zombie workers are great—no eating, no drinking, no rest, no talking. 24-hour workaholic saints.
[Jian Lulu (Agronomist)]: Foreman, looking forward to your next batch.
Mu Shan chuckled.
She shifted poses and kept doing yoga when suddenly a light clink came from the iron door outside, like a pebble hitting the panel.
She thought it was wind carrying gravel from the lawn and ignored it.
But moments later, the sound came again.
“Thump, thump.”
It started slow, then picked up speed, with even intervals between pauses.
“Thump thump thump—”
Mu Shan was already off the bed. She gripped the fire axe handle with both hands, face grim, and crept up the stairs step by step.
“Thump thump.” The iron door vibrated faintly after a few knocks.
It wasn’t a pebble. It was a knock.
Someone was knocking on her door in the cold, rainy night.
Mu Shan didn’t dare make a sound. She tiptoed silently. The system showed the iron door’s durability still at 100—no damage. The knocking wouldn’t breach the safe house.
As she reached the top step, the persistent knocking stopped abruptly.
The eerie silence amplified the unknown dread.
Mu Shan’s heart pounded; she felt the blood rushing to her head.
At that moment, she didn’t even dare peek through the peephole, afraid of some horrific mutant zombie outside.
Time ticked by. She crouched on the stairs, straining to discern outside noises.
The crisp patter of rain on the iron door;
The soft hush on the grass;
The whoosh of wind.
Mu Shan’s brows twitched. Amid it all, she heard something odd—like rain hitting a smooth surface.
“Plip-plop.”
Like… a raincoat.
In that instant, her hairs stood on end.
Unimaginable: outside wasn’t a mutant zombie, but a person.
In the midnight of an apocalypse instance, lurking at another player’s safe house for unknown reasons.
Neither side spoke, locked in a standoff across a thin door panel.
Mu Shan waited a long time with no further action. The rain eased, muffling the odd sounds. She mustered courage, stood, and peered through the peephole.
—Pitch black outside; only sky visible. No one there.
The mysterious person had left.
Mu Shan felt no relief. She checked again to confirm no one lingered, then returned to bed. She wrapped herself in the blanket to warm her stiff body.
The axe and paper cup with the peashooter sat by the bedhead. She wouldn’t let her weapons stray far.
What was that person’s intent? If friendly, why come at midnight? If not, why knock?
Mu Shan eyed her stocked room like a dragon guarding treasure, too wary to sleep.
Her mind stayed alert until early morning exhaustion claimed her. She woke to check her watch: 6:10 a.m.
…
Main Quest (Day 4)
Mu Shan brushed her teeth while flipping open the card album. Lady Luck smiled today; the draws yielded good stuff.
[Environment Card: A Sedan with a Zombie Locked Inside]
[Character Card: An Elderly Zombie]
[Item Card: Zombie’s Iron Bucket (Consumable)
Quality: Crude
Description: Can block three external physical attacks
Usage: Wear on head
Note: “Zombies finally have gear!”]
Mu Shan happily materialized the iron bucket.
It was a dingy secondhand bucket, dented and scratched, but just the right size for a hat. Ugly, but it fixed her defense gap.
Today, she planned to hunt for replacement underwear, socks, and medicine. Before leaving, Mu Shan triple-checked the peephole, wary of ambushes.
She packed every weapon and tool on her person.
Only after safely exiting the iron door onto the empty hillside did she relax a fraction.
Was she being too paranoid? Mu Shan brushed rain from her face and stepped into the drizzle.
She wore a scooter raincoat over her jacket and rain boots—cumbersome for movement, so she wouldn’t go far today.
The street near the park had few worthwhile shops. After a long search, she scavenged a tube of hand cream and a pack of tea leaves from a real estate agent’s office.
In an optician’s break room, she found a box of fruit candies.
The biggest score was a ransacked pharmacy—clearly looted by players, shelves wrecked, crushed boxes everywhere.
From under the register cabinet, she dug out a pack of unscathed medical cotton swabs.
Scattered ginseng boxes in the display case were empty, but Mu Shan dug through the trash and found two overlooked tubes of vitamin C tablets under one.
Prime apocalypse loot.
Mu Shan’s lips curved upward.
Just two hours out, and the sky was bright, though the rain picked up again.
Her haul was meager; yesterday she’d keep going. But today, unease gnawed at her, so she headed back.
Jogging to the park, she first hid in the bushes to scan for intruders. None.
Mu Shan was about to return to the safe house when she thought better of it and held back.
…
Five minutes later, she hung her dripping raincoat and boots in the bathroom and started boiling water.
09:00 a.m.
The scavenged tea leaves bobbed and unfurled in the boiling water, the pale green brew lovely in the clear glass.
Mu Shan hadn’t taken a sip.
The knocking sounded at the door again.