Chapter Seven: Awaiting the Arrival of Power and Authority

Fang Xia had no intention of sleeping. The night belonged to the undead, and he needed to stay alert, keeping a constant watch on the door, ready to escape the moment he finished gathering the airdrop.

At dawn, sunlight once again bathed the earth. Unlike yesterday’s cacophony of screams, today Baicheng was enveloped in deathly silence.

Zombies wandered everywhere—on the streets, across the campus. Some had fallen from the sky, others were unlucky souls who had been infected. The remaining humans mostly barricaded themselves behind closed doors, too afraid to venture out. At first, a few dared to challenge the zombies, managing to kill one or two, but were quickly surrounded and torn apart by packs of the undead. Witnessing such horror, most cowered indoors, trembling with fear, terrified they would be next. Yet some still risked everything for food, but the survivors were few; the majority hid behind their doors, shivering.

At nine in the morning, the sky changed once more.

Another rift tore open, but this time what descended was not death, but hope—lifelines that could keep humanity alive in this apocalypse.

Yet, in another sense, these supply crates also exposed humanity’s deepest flaws and ignited bloodier, more brutal struggles.

The weak, lured by promises of food within the crates, were tricked into zombie-infested streets for the amusement of the powerful, who sought only to add entertainment to their dull existence.

Brothers turned on one another for weapons, drawing blades and spilling blood, betraying kin for a better chance at survival.

Women, too, clung to those in power, to men with weapons; the less fortunate were seized and traded like goods, forced into servitude for a mere scrap of food, with no other choice.

Power, food, beauty, weapons, slaughter…

In his past life, Fang Xia had witnessed too many cruelties, too much injustice. Those who stood at the pinnacle of the apocalypse were always those equipped with the contents of those crates. The rest, left empty-handed, were trampled and toyed with at will by the powerful.

Power—how alluring and coveted it is.

This world’s fate was ultimately in the hands of a select few. Fang Xia did not intend to save the world; honestly, he lacked both the means and the selflessness. Those heroic sacrifices found in films were not for someone who had survived six years of the apocalypse by clinging desperately to life. He had seen too much betrayal—brother against brother, parents eating their own children. He had no illusions of altruism; he simply wanted to become one of those few, to wield power and authority. Only then could he protect the people he cared for, the ones he loved, and avoid ending up dead on the streets, his body left to rot.

The airdrop lasted only five minutes—half the time of the zombie rain, and the drops were far less frequent.

It was as if some divine being had orchestrated the event, arranging this performance solely for the amusement of a chosen audience. The stage was the entire planet, and the performers died for the spectators’ pleasure.

Perhaps that was only fitting. The symbols of power and authority would always belong to the few; only then could the audience be truly entertained.

The supply crates, guided by some unknown force, scattered across every corner of Baicheng.

After the carnage of last night, most people remained cloistered indoors, and only a handful witnessed the descent of the crates.

Industrial University—Girls’ Dormitory.

Bai Xing sat alone in the empty room. There had once been four of them, but after two disasters, only she and one other girl remained.

When the disaster struck, they had been at the campus gate, eating a late-night meal. Caught in the rain, they had taken shelter in a nearby hotel, booking a room on the nineteenth floor. They had just ordered a feast, which they packed up and brought with them. That food was all that got them through the calamity.

Last night, the two of them, weak from hunger, ventured out to find more to eat, but two girls could not compete with the others. Suddenly, Bai Xing remembered the stash in their dorm room. Their dorm, always bustling with four food-loving roommates, never lacked snacks and drinks. Instead of risking a beating for scraps outside, they decided to return to the safety of their room.

The journey back was far from easy. In a university teeming with testosterone, girls were rare—and both were from the computer science department, with Bai Xing particularly renowned for her beauty, drawing many admiring glances.

The second disaster struck on a sweltering day; they wore little, both out of necessity and hope that, with the crisis past and the law restored, no one would dare harm them—though the stares were scorching.

Surrounded by hungry wolves, they kept their heads down, supporting each other as they hurried toward the dorm, hoping everything would be fine once they got inside.

But as they neared the dorm entrance, a rain of zombies suddenly fell from the sky. One landed directly between them and the door.

Stunned, they froze. The zombie emerged from its cocoon and, spotting their hesitation, charged at them. Unaccustomed to such horrors, the two girls faltered. The zombie lunged, knocking Bai Xing’s roommate to the ground. Bai Xing, terrified, instinctively let go. Her roommate screamed, and Bai Xing hesitated, torn between helping and fleeing. But the zombie’s jaws clamped down on her friend’s neck. It could have been solved with a simple kick, but in that chaos, instinct took over. Bai Xing pulled with all her remaining strength, but her weakened body failed her. Just as she was about to collapse, the zombie suddenly turned toward her, preparing to attack. In a surge of desperate energy, Bai Xing fled back to the dorm.

A night had passed. Trembling, she curled up by the window. Her friend had been devoured before her eyes, while she had run away. Her lips were raw and bleeding where she had bitten them.

Throughout the night, screams echoed again and again—signs that many classmates had fallen to the undead. Each new cry filled Bai Xing with deeper terror. She dared not make a sound, only trembling more violently with every shriek.

With the first rays of dawn, the zombie horde seemed to change, moving with a new, awkward stiffness.

Bai Xing had survived a nightmarish ordeal. Never before had she felt so helpless, curled alone in the corner of the dorm, each scream outside striking her fragile heart like a hammer.

In that moment, all she wanted was for a man to be by her side—someone with a weapon, someone who could give her a piece of bread. She would have followed such a man for the rest of her life.