Chapter 287: The Monster Drawn by Noise

Snap.

The vacuum-sealed bag was ripped open, and that distinctive plastic scraping noise was especially harsh in the dead‑silent living room.

Su Ming sat cross‑legged on the living‑room floor, his back against a stack of unopened bottled water he hadn't gotten around to sorting. He pinched a piece of dark chocolate, pressed lightly with his fingers, broke off a small chunk, and popped it into his mouth.

Bitter.

Then came the sweet aftertaste, sliding from the tip of his tongue down his throat.

In the apocalypse, such high‑calorie food is hard currency; every calorie is capital for an extra minute of life.

"Dong dong dong."

The knocking outside continued, the rhythm unchanged, still that cautious, falsely earnest tone.

"Little Su…… can you hear me? Auntie knows you're home; that tearing‑bag sound just now, my ears aren't deaf—I heard it loud and clear."

Outside, Li Dame's voice shifted tone.

Just moments ago she'd been a tear‑streaked, kindly elder begging for help; now her tone mixed in greed, urgency, and a thinly veiled spite.

Su Ming didn't move.

He sat in the dark, his eyes, adjusted to the low light, fixed unblinkingly on the peephole of the entrance door.

If you'd ever been pinned to the ground, someone's foot on your skull, watching your last rations being snatched away while that so‑called 'kindly auntie' spat in your face…… you wouldn't flinch at a sound like this.

Except the urge to kill.

"Little Su, you can't be too absolute in life."

The voice outside rose several notches, carrying the rasp and sharpness typical of elders: "These days the world's gone mad; neighbors ought to help each other. I came to you because I respect you, I treat you as one of my own. How can you pretend to be deaf and dumb?"

"If my obedient grandson comes to harm from hunger, can you live with yourself? Do you sleep without nightmares?"

Moral blackmail.

He knew this routine all too well.

In his previous life, those few lines had roasted him over a fire; he felt, as a young adult, that refusing to help would be inexcusable. The result? His kindness nearly became the knife that stabbed him.

Su Ming swallowed the last bite of chocolate, then brushed the crumbs from his hand.

He rose to his feet, barefoot, and walked to the entryway.

He didn't open the door, and even his breathing was kept low.

He grabbed the heavy wooden shoe cabinet beside him. This piece of junk the landlord left behind is an old antique, dead‑weight; moving it even a little normally takes a lot of effort.

"Squeak—creak—"

The anti‑slip pad on the cabinet's bottom scraped the tile floor, producing a grating, teeth‑on‑edge whine.

That sound echoed in the empty hallway, sure to reach the old woman outside's ears.

Su Ming shoved it against the door.

It was a response.

It was also a silent declaration of war.

I have supplies.

But I'm not giving you any.

The pleading outside cut off abruptly.

Li Dame clearly understood the meaning of that sound. The fury of being ignored and humiliated shattered the pitiful act she'd put on.

"Su Ming! You little bastard!"

She could no longer keep up the act.

The door shuddered under a thunderous blow—no longer the tentative knocking from before, but fists, possibly even kicks.

"You fatherless, motherless beast! I heard you! You're eating! You're moving furniture to block the door! What are you trying to do? Who are you guarding against? I'm an old woman—how dare you treat me like this?!"

Li Dame's voice was astonishingly loud; that sharp, scolding tone was like a rusty saw cutting glass, stinging the ears.

"I tell you, I've seen it all! The day before yesterday afternoon I was peeking through the crack in the window, watching you haul box after box inside—water, food, and what's that? Jerky, right?!"

"You hoard all that food for yourself while you watch us widows and orphans starve at the door—are you even human? Did you feed your heart to the dogs?!"

Su Ming kept working, his expression unchanged.

The shoe cabinet held the door.

Not enough.

He turned back toward the living room and dragged the two‑person sofa over.

"Screech—"

The fabric sofa slid across the floor.

He stood the sofa on its end, wedging it tightly between the shoe cabinet and the opposite wall, forming a perfect triangular brace.

This door now couldn't be forced open from the outside unless you blew it up with explosives.

That's his attitude.

This door is the boundary between yin and yang.

Inside is life; outside is death.

Whoever dares to cross it, he'll chop off their hand.

"Ay…… what's going on? Making a racket, stirring up trouble."

In the hallway, there was finally some movement.

Just as Su Ming had expected, Li Dame's ruckus stirred up every lingering "ghost and monster" still alive in the building.

In this apartment block the soundproofing was already poor; now, with monsters everywhere outside, nobody dares to go out, everyone's starving to the point of seeing gold stars, and their hearing has become unusually sharp.

The word "food" works better than any stimulant in the current situation.

"Is that Aunt Li? What's going on?"

A coarse male voice sounded, and he opened a crack in the door.

In fact, the man became interested only after hearing that Su Ming had food.

"Ah, Da Liu! You have to give me some sense of fairness!"

Li Dama, as soon as she heard someone pick a fight, instantly reverted to the victim's demeanor, her crying voice pouring out, "That Su family's kid is such a worthless thing! My little grandson is about to faint from hunger, and I was thinking of asking him for food. Even if it's a loan, he wouldn't give it! Guess what?"

She paused, deliberately raising her voice so that neighbors on the upper and lower floors could hear.

"His family has stockpiled a whole house of goods! I saw it with my own eyes! Instant noodles, ham sausages, piled in boxes after boxes into his house! Just now he was eating alone inside, the smell wafted out, yet he wouldn't even open the door, and he blocked it with furniture to keep us out!"

"Tell me, is this still something a person should do? We're all neighbors; which family doesn't have difficulties? He's not just ignoring the dead, he's trying to wear us all out so he can swallow this whole building himself!"

These words were murderous and ruthless.

It not only confirmed that Su Ming had supplies, but also placed him opposite everyone.

At this moment of collapsing order, jealousy is the best accelerant.

"Is it true? Stockpiled a whole house?"

Da Liu stepped out, his voice tinged with greed, "Xiao Su, this is your unprincipled side. The big fellows are all starving now; you have surplus, what's wrong with sharing it? It's not like we're taking yours for free."

"Exactly, exactly, one must not be too selfish."

"Usually this kid seems quite honest, never expected his heart to be so dark."

"Open the door! Quickly open it! We won't take much; just two boxes of instant noodles and this will be settled!"

More and more voices joined in.

Those living opposite, those downstairs, and even some upstairs residents groped in the dark and made their way to the Stairway Entrance.

Hunger made them forget the roaming monsters outside, or rather, compared to those terrifying man‑eating beasts, the lone young man before them, rich in supplies yet "soft and easy to bully", was clearly a better hunting target.

Su Ming stood behind the door, gripping the Watermelon Knife in his hand.

He listened to the clamor outside, a cold smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

This is humanity.

In his previous life, he was devoured piece by piece by these so‑called "neighbors".

Da Liu stole his water and even kicked two of his ribs apart; upstairs, Wang Daye, who usually seemed amiable, was even darker‑handed when snatching flour, nearly stabbing his eyes with a cane; and there was Li Dama, who was now fanning the flames...

Every one of these people had his blood on their hands.

"Dong! Dong! Dong!"

The pounding on the door grew more intense.

This time it wasn't just one person pounding; from the sounds, at least three adult men were striking the security door simultaneously.

The wall plaster around the doorframe peeled off in flakes, and the old hinges moaned under the strain.

Yet the door remained unmoved.

"Damn! Looks like this kid blocked the door shut!" Da Liu cursed, "How much stuff must he have piled up to hold it?"

"I think he's just scared! There must be good stuff inside!" Li Dama added fuel to the fire, "If not, pry it open! Anyway, there are no police now; we're doing this to survive, it's an emergency self‑preservation!"

"Right! Pry it open! Everyone pull together!"

The situation outside the door spiraled out of control.

They no longer concealed their robbery, and on this lawless apocalyptic night, once the flame of violence ignites, it quickly spreads into a raging inferno.

Su Ming didn't panic.

He even had the leisure to pull a piece of chewing gum from his pocket, toss it into his mouth, and chew.

He was waiting.

This building truly was a deadlock, but even within a deadlock there are rules of deadlocks.

The hallway here is narrow, and the echo is huge.

With so many people gathered, shouting and smashing doors, do they really think the monsters outside are deaf?

"Ah—!"

A very brief, miserable scream, like a chicken whose throat was suddenly squeezed, abruptly cut through all the clamor.

The sound came too fast, too close.

Just outside the door.

Just less than two meters behind that crowd.

The once‑boiling hallway instantly fell silent, so quiet that even a needle dropping to the floor could be heard.

"Lao... Lao Zhang?"

Da Liu's voice trembled a bit, with a hint of uncertainty, "What are you ghost saying? You scared the hell out of me."

No one answered.

Only a strange sound.

"Ssshh... ssshh..."

It sounded like someone slurping noodles, or like a soft creature dragging across the tiled floor.

Immediately after, a nauseatingly strong scent of blood seeped in through the crack.

Su Ming's chewing of the gum halted.

He slowly, silently moved closer to the peephole.

Although the door was blocked by furniture, he had deliberately left the peephole open so he could observe outside at any time.

He closed one eye, pressing the other against the cold glass.

The peephole's view was fisheye, with some edge distortion and dim lighting.

But he still saw clearly.

At the end of the Corridor, where the fire‑escape window used to be.

The window was broken at some unknown time.

A figure in a yellow food-delivery uniform was hanging upside down from the ceiling.

That "person's" limbs were abnormally slender, like stretched noodles, with joints even twisted backward.

Its head had turned 180 degrees, face down, facing the crowd below.

That face had no features.

Only a huge mouth, split open to the ears, filled densely with thorn-like teeth.

And at this moment, that mouth was biting half a head.