Chapter 541: Emergency!

"Uh, Brother Ding, I was wrong before, I shouldn't have… taken something that wasn't mine. This knife… I'm returning it to you…"

Zhang Xin stepped forward, offering the scabbard to Ding Yongguo with an apologetic expression—he'd never have done something so foolish if he'd known who the man was.

"Huh? This… this isn't right. I've already smoked some, and the dried meat… I've already eaten it…"

Ding Yongguo cast a lingering glance at the combat knife, waved his hand awkwardly, patted the cigarette pack in his pocket—the dried meat had already all vanished into his and Zheng Ziwen's stomachs.

"Just take it. It's just two packs of cigarettes—I'll cover it for you. If I remember right, I still haven't paid you over ten thousand for the July and August orders. No need to pay now. You got the better end of the deal, haha."

Zhang Su tilted his head toward Zheng Xinyu; she immediately pulled two packs of cigarettes from her bag and shoved them into Zhang Xin's hands.

His business with Ding Yongguo was always on credit, never outright owed—payments of tens of thousands usually sat in financial apps for another one or two months before transfer. Even a tiny bit of interest was still money…

At the mention of money, many around them froze in place.

Cash—once the very thing people rose before dawn and worked past dusk for—had now become dust of history. Memories surfaced in their hearts, as if it had all happened yesterday.

"No, no, no, this can't be! Brother Su, I dare not take your things! Brother Ding, the cigarettes don't matter—I've got plenty. Taking your weapon was wrong of me. Please, please take it back!"

Zhang Xin stammered, pushing away the two packs of Yuxi that Zheng Xinyu had given him, while simultaneously urging Ding Yongguo to take back the dog-leg combat knife.

"Heh, let's see if this guy dares to pull this crap again."

"Always doing low-class things…"

Zhao Dezhhu and the others watched with grins, thinking: You fruit merchant, you weren't decent—now you know how it feels…

"Then I'll… uh…"

"Just take it already! Why are you so damn slow?"

Whoosh—before Ding Yongguo could finish his politeness, Zheng Ziwen stepped forward and took the knife from Zhang Xin's hands, glaring impatiently at his uncle before walking back to the luggage and silently beginning to pack.

…

Lu Yubo and Zhao Dezhhu exchanged a glance, both pointing at Zheng Ziwen—their expressions were identical to that of someone who'd just seen a bullet hit its target, their smiles perfectly matched, their only thought: Fuck.

Zheng Xinyu wore the disgusted face of someone whose live-stream PK opponent had just been forced to eat shit—how could someone with the same surname be this awful?

"Uncle Ding, why not let this young man take your surname?"

"Huh?"

Ding Yongguo felt his brain couldn't keep up.

"It's fine, Brother Ding… I need to speak with him."

Zhang Su smiled and waved to interrupt, then stepped forward, grabbed the back of Zheng Ziwen's collar, and yanked him up with a swift motion.

Like lifting a chick, he spun Zheng Ziwen around, pressed his face close, and said coldly: "Kid, everything you've survived so far is thanks to your uncle. If you want to live, be good. Be obedient. Understand?"

Ding Yongguo instinctively moved to stop Zhang Su, but then remembered how utterly disgraceful his nephew had been—he stood silent, his face twisted with complex emotion.

His feelings toward Zheng Ziwen stemmed entirely from his sister. Ding Yongguo had more than once considered abandoning this useless brat—but each time, familial ties held him back. That didn't mean he had no thoughts on the matter.

Tolerance is like a credit card—it has a limit. Once the limit is reached, it's over.

Now that someone was willing to teach his disobedient nephew a lesson, Ding Yongguo felt relieved.

Zheng Ziwen had killed zombies since the collapse, but never a human. As the thick wave of killing intent crashed over him, the icy gaze pierced his skin, making his fingers twitch—he dropped what he held with a clatter, nodded mechanically like a zombie, and forced three dry words out of his throat.

"Understood." Zhang Su didn't release him immediately. He held him frozen for another five seconds before smiling and letting go.

Zheng Ziwen's feet touched the ground, but his heart still hovered in his throat—he had just felt death drawing near. Suddenly, he remembered how everyone had addressed this man.

"Yanluowang." The name now felt terrifyingly accurate. This man was far worse than any zombie.

When lifted, Zheng Ziwen had considered resisting—but he couldn't move. It felt as if invisible chains had locked him in place; any attempt to fight would mean utter ruin.

If Zhang Su knew Zheng Ziwen's thoughts, he'd have praised him—because Zheng Ziwen's instinct was dead-on.

"Just giving your brat a lesson, haha. I'm off now. You guys finish packing—we'll talk later!"

With that, Zhang Su and his group hurried away. Farther off, he heard Ding Yongguo and Zheng Ziwen speaking.

"Uncle, that guy's terrifying. Is he even a good person? Shouldn't we move somewhere else?"

"If you keep acting like this, I can't protect you. If you're uncomfortable here, just leave."

Ding Yongguo was tired. He no longer wanted to carry the heavy, worthless burden of kinship.

There would surely be more arguing later, but Zhang Su had no time to listen—he led his group back upstairs to the pickled cabbage fish restaurant.

"This latest surge in zombie strength is absurd. Considering the safety of our survivors across all branches, and to better and more safely combat zombies, I've decided to consolidate everyone into the Civil Protection barracks. Any objections?"

Zhang Su looked around, bluntly stating his case, tapping his fingers on the stacked dining table—*thump, thump*. Everyone stood, including him.

Everyone understood: his final question wasn't an invitation to debate—it was a decree. The plan was final. If anyone had difficulties, they could voice them, but solutions would be found.

Liu Yao and Yang Xinqi exchanged a rare glance, both exhaling deeply. They'd discussed this very issue last night, worried about how to bring it up to Zhang Su—yet he'd thought of it first.

"Brother Su, I won't lie—I and Old Yang were up all night worrying. Honestly, with those few stray cats and dogs at the kindergarten, we'd have been wiped out yesterday if there'd been a large-scale attack. Honestly, I think merging is a good idea."

Liu Yao wore a bitter, relieved smile. The kindergarten hadn't had an easy day yesterday—hit by six or seven zombie waves, from a few at a time to over twenty in one rush. They'd killed nearly a hundred total. Luck held—they never faced the big ones. Otherwise, things wouldn't have looked so optimistic.

"Civil Protection's barracks are well-equipped, well-staffed, and under Director Li's management—perfect. As long as Director Li doesn't mind, we have no complaints."

Yang Xinqi nodded quickly, clearly agreeing.

Li Zongkai waved his hands: "No, no—there's no 'Director Li' anymore. I'm just one of Tianma Island's people. I follow Mr. Zhang's guidance. Helping everyone is my honor. I'll need your full cooperation going forward."

It sounded polished—but carried hidden meaning: Once you're in the barracks, obey. Don't cause trouble. I answer only to Yanluowang, not you. Wu Baokang didn't catch the subtext, but he frowned. After Li Zongkai finished, he said: "I don't oppose moving to the barracks—but we're low on supplies. That's a problem."

The barracks' remote location was well-known. All nearby resource zones had already been stripped clean by Civil Protection. Now, with conditions worsening, the range for scavenging couldn't expand—meaning no quick resupply.

"Supplies are critical, but not yet urgent. I guarantee food. Daily goods will need to be sourced from the city. Right now, the priority is stabilizing our forces."

Zhang Su made his promise—food was never an issue in the countryside.

Everyone wore bitter smiles. Four months into the collapse, they'd built everything from nothing, watching things improve—giving the illusion that human civilization was reviving. Then a single rainstorm slammed them back to square one.

*Tap-tap-tap…*

In the brief silence, hurried footsteps echoed up the stairs. Then Zhang Su heard Wu Daqiang tell Zhao Dezhhu: "There's an emergency—needs to speak with Li Zongkai…"

Emergency!

Zhang Su hated that word. From yesterday to today, every sudden event had been an emergency. He wanted to catch his breath—but reality wouldn't allow it.

(End of Chapter)