Volume One, Chapter 14: The Cloth Ripper—MG42

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Inside the cloud villa, in the surveillance room.

The pungent scent of aged pickled mustard greens clashed absurdly with the hellish scene playing out on the screens.

[Beep! The marshal’s forces have slain 1,142 zombies. Commencing end-of-mission rewards…]

[Beep! Rewards obtained: Military tent blueprint x1, MG42 blueprint x1.]

Lin Ye slurped his noodles, his eyes indifferent as they scanned the settlement data.

“MG42? A relic from World War II?” He sneered. “But the nickname ‘Ripper’ isn’t undeserved—1,200 rounds per minute. Pouring bullets on a zombie horde is not a bad idea.”

A thousand zombies killed, and only two blueprints dropped.

The drop rate was pitifully low, but every little bit counted.

He then uploaded the blueprint info to unlock the permissions.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door.

“Marshal.”

“Enter.”

Chen Feng strode in briskly, saluted, and reported, “Report! The bait operation is complete. Confirmed by drones—within a 500-meter radius around the villa, only scattered zombies remain. Threat level is low.

However, the corpses have piled up like a mountain. If not dealt with promptly, they might attract more zombies.

By your order, the remaining survivors have been instructed to finish cleanup within an hour.”

“Hm, well done.” Lin Ye set down his cup of instant noodles. “Let the brothers rotate for rest, resupply ammo, and maintain vigilance. The next phase starts tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, sir!” Chen Feng responded, then asked, “Marshal, what about those survivors… how should we handle them?”

Lin Ye’s fingers tapped lightly on the cold metal table.

The surveillance switched to outside the villa: Li Hua slumped on the ground like a dead dog; the buzz-cut man silently dragged the last corpse; several students leaned on each other, vomiting, all stained with black and red filth.

The betrayals from his past life gnawed like venomous snakes—trust?

In this cannibalistic apocalypse, trust was a luxury, a death sentence.

“Once they finish cleaning the battlefield,” Lin Ye’s voice was void of emotion, “all of them are to be sent to the underground garage. No one is to step out without my order.”

He paused, his tone icy cold: “Any disobedience will be met with immediate execution on the spot—no questions asked.”

“Understood!” A flicker of recognition shone in Chen Feng’s eyes. This iron fist was what the chaotic times demanded.

He turned and left to carry out the orders.

The villa was no charity shelter—it was Lin Ye’s fortress, the cornerstone of power and survival.

Lin Ye watched the merit points flicker on the system panel: 19,247.

He still needed to wait until around 11 p.m. to redeem his first infantry squad (50,000 points).

“Looks like the next plan will have to wait until tomorrow.” He calculated.

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Once the infantry squad was formed and cooperating with the Snow Leopard assault team, they would finally have the resources to expand outward and establish a truly controllable refuge.

Not like now, shoving unstable elements into their own garage.

…

Outside the villa, the heap of corpses stank unbearably.

The buzz-cut man expressionlessly unscrewed a gasoline can lid and doused the pile with the acrid liquid.

Li Hua sat slumped by a flowerbed a few meters away, pale as paper, gasping heavily. His suit was filthy beyond recognition, and his expensive leather shoes were caked with mud and black blood.

“Really… this is not work for humans…” Li Hua’s voice was hollow, frail with the exhaustion and humiliation of survival.

A lighter flicked on, a flame bursting forth.

The buzz-cut man flicked his wrist; the burning lighter arced precisely into the corpse pile.

“Boom—!!!”

Orange flames surged, instantly devouring the mountain of bodies!

Thick black smoke, heavy with the stench of burning protein, billowed upward, darkening the sky.

The heat waves rolled forward, illuminating the survivors’ numb, exhausted, and terrified faces.

Meanwhile, in other buildings around the villa yet to be cleaned, pairs of eyes peeked through curtains at the “cleansing” below.

“Heh… what a bunch of fools!” In a high-rise apartment, a middle-aged fat man in pajamas sipped his treasured red wine, disdain etched across his face.

“Look at that fat pig (Li Hua), exhausted like a dog; and those students vomiting bile! Hilarious… so disgraceful!”

Beside him, a heavily made-up woman agreed, “Exactly! Slaving away like cattle, hauling and burning corpses just to get a bite? How low can they stoop?

Good thing we didn’t go down there, or we’d be stuck as laborers, soaked in corpse stench!”

“I think those camo-clad guys aren’t any better!” Another window, a man with glasses pushed up his frames and sneered coldly:

“Using living humans as bait to lure zombies, and killing their own without batting an eye! Worse than zombies themselves! Staying under their watch? Do they want to die?”

“That’s right! We’re safe behind closed doors, waiting for government rescue—that’s the right way!” Someone blindly clung to hope.

“Yeah! When the army arrives, let’s see if those bastards dare act up!” Resentment and schadenfreude rippled behind the safety of locked windows.

They mocked those gasping before the flames below, as if they were superior, utterly forgetting who had cleared the threatening zombie hordes—and ignoring the devastating firepower of the Snow Leopard team.

The buzz-cut man stood by the burning pyre, the heat baking his face.

Raising his head, his sharp gaze swept the lit villa windows, as if piercing through curtains to see those cold, mocking, self-righteous faces.

A faint, almost imperceptible cold smile tugged at his lips. He tossed the empty gasoline can into the flames and turned toward the group of survivors being herded by Snow Leopard soldiers toward the garage.

The heavy alloy door slammed shut behind Li Hua and the others, sealing off the burning inferno outside.

Inside, only the dim emergency lights cast a faint glow over the stale mixture of machine oil and dust.

“Stay put! No noise! No wandering!” The guard’s voice was icy, his gun barrel gleaming faintly in the shadows.

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Li Hua slid down the cold wall, utterly exhausted.

Several students huddled together, quietly sobbing.

A woman’s child was too frightened to cry.

Only the buzz-cut man silently wiped his fruit knife stained with black blood under the dim light, his expression calm, lost in thought.

Occasionally, he glanced over the stacked supply boxes and ventilation ducts deep in the garage, as if assessing something.

Just as the survivors were drifting into weary, drowsy stupor, the alloy door slid open a crack.

A Snow Leopard soldier entered carrying a heavy cardboard box and a pack of twenty-four bottled waters, placing them on the concrete floor before the group.

“There’s food in the box,” the soldier’s tone was flat. “Nine of you share it. If it’s not enough, you can ask for more. It’ll fill you up. But if anyone dares to snatch—”

The cold muzzle of his gun lifted slightly in the shadows.

“Consequences will be yours alone.”

Food? Enough to fill them up?

The survivors could hardly believe their ears.

After hellish battles, humiliating cleanup, and burning corpses, their captors actually provided food?

Li Hua was the first to react, scrambling to the box, fumbling as he opened it.

Inside were vacuum-packed sausages, individually wrapped bread, and several packs of compressed biscuits!

“Th-thank you, sir!” Li Hua grabbed a sausage, almost tearing open the packaging as he twisted open a bottle of water and devoured the food.

Seeing this, the others quickly gathered around, carefully taking food and water.

For the first time, chewing and swallowing sounds echoed in the oppressive garage—accompanied by tired gasps but tinged with the faint relief of survival.

The buzz-cut man did not immediately step forward. He stood a little apart, his sharp eyes scanning the food and water, then the stoic Snow Leopard soldier standing like a statue by the door.

Were they really this generous?

In the apocalypse, food was a lifeline!

This didn’t seem to make sense.

Was it a bribe? Poison? Or… some hidden agenda?

But the gnawing hunger and utter fatigue overwhelmed all suspicion.

He stepped forward silently, took a piece of bread and a bottle of water, sat against the wall, and ate quickly and quietly to regain strength.

Yet, the tension inside him only tightened further.

When someone offers kindness without reason, there’s always a motive.