Chapter Three: An Unexpected Helping Hand

As she neared the apartment building, Tao Zui felt her heart race uncontrollably. Pressed against the wall, she moved forward step by step, her ears keenly attuned to any sounds from within. Other than the earlier scream and the thud of something heavy falling, the building was eerily quiet—so quiet it felt unnatural.

Such silence often meant greater danger.

She reached the entrance. The security door had long been twisted out of shape, hanging askew in the frame. Instead of stepping inside, she first pulled from her backpack a small shard of mirror, broken off an old looking glass, and used it to reflect the view of the lobby.

The lobby was empty, scattered with debris and trash. There was no sign of people or of any aberrants. Yet, mingling with the stench of decay, she detected a faint trace of blood in the air.

Tao Zui frowned, pocketed the mirror, gripped her pistol, and slipped inside.

The first floor was dim, with only a few rays of sunlight filtering through shattered windows. She tread lightly, climbing the stairs. The steps were thick with dust, marked by messy footprints—someone had passed through here not long ago.

At the landing to the second floor, she paused. The window where she'd glimpsed a shadow was at the far end of this corridor.

A stronger scent of blood hung in the corridor.

She drew a deep breath and darted her head out, swiftly scanning the hallway. Most of the doors on either side stood open, the rooms within in disarray. Midway down the corridor lay a little girl in a filthy dress, no more than five or six years old, utterly still—her fate uncertain.

Not far from the girl stood a tall man. His back was to her, clad in black tactical gear, his figure straight and muscular, each contour sharply defined. In his hand he held a military knife, blood still dripping from its blade. At his feet was the corpse of an aberrant—its throat cleanly slit, dark green blood pooling on the floor.

It seemed the scream and struggle from earlier had been caused by them.

Sensing movement behind him, the man whirled around sharply.

Their eyes met.

Tao Zui's heart clenched.

It was a strikingly severe face—chiseled features like they’d been carved from stone, lines cold and hard. His skin was a healthy bronze, likely from years spent outdoors. His eyes were deep and black, like ancient wells, devoid of warmth, laced with a chilling intensity.

When his gaze fell on Tao Zui, it was sharp as a blade, brimming with open wariness and scrutiny, as if assessing a potential threat.

For an instant, a vague shadow flickered through Tao Zui’s mind. That shadow, too, had such harsh contours, such silent and stubborn eyes.

She quickly dismissed the absurd thought. In the apocalypse, there were too many people who looked alike. Besides, the figure in her memory belonged to a time long past.

The man said nothing, staring coldly at her, his grip on the knife unyielding.

Tao Zui likewise stayed silent, watching him with wary eyes. Her finger rested on the trigger of her M1911, ready for anything.

This man felt dangerous—far more dangerous than any scavenger she’d met before. The cold, indifferent air about him, and his swift, efficient handling of the aberrant, told her he was not someone to be trifled with.

They faced off, the air thick with tension. The mingled scents of blood, rot, and mutual suspicion pressed down, suffocating.

After a tense dozen seconds, the man’s gaze shifted from her face to the stairwell behind her, as though checking for others.

Finding her alone, his eyes returned to her. His lips moved, and he uttered two words: “Get out.”

His voice was as cold and hoarse as he was, utterly devoid of emotion.

Tao Zui did not move. Her gaze dropped to the little girl on the floor. “She…”

The man’s eyes turned colder still, even tinged with murderous intent. “Stay out of my business.”

His tone was full of warning—one more word, and he’d strike without hesitation.

Tao Zui’s heart skipped. She could feel his threat was real, so strong it nearly suffocated her.

Rationality screamed at her to turn and leave, to get far away from this dangerous man and this doomed place.

But her eyes lingered on the girl. The child’s chest still rose and fell—the faintest sign of life. Likely she’d only fainted from fright. Leaving her here, even if the aberrants didn’t return, other scavengers would find her eventually, and the outcome was easy to imagine.

She gritted her teeth and made a decision that surprised even herself.

“She’s still alive,” Tao Zui said quietly, her voice calm but with a trace of determination. “It’s too dangerous to take her with you.”

The man’s brows drew together, his murderous glare intensifying. “I said: get out.”

He took a step forward, and the pressure bearing down on her increased tenfold.

Tao Zui instinctively stepped back, raising her M1911 and aiming it at him.

Her hand trembled. This was her first time pointing a gun at a person—especially someone so formidable.

The man’s expression did not change, but the corner of his mouth curled in a faint, mocking smile. As if, in his eyes, her gun was no more threatening than a stick of firewood.

“Are you provoking me?” His voice was low, edged with danger.

“I don’t want trouble,” Tao Zui said, forcing her voice steady. “And I don’t want to meddle in your affairs. But she’s a child. Leaving her here is the same as killing her.”

“What does it have to do with me?” he replied coldly.

Tao Zui was at a loss for words.

Indeed, what did it have to do with him? In this world, everyone could barely fend for themselves—who would care about the life or death of a stranger’s child?

Hadn’t she always survived that way herself?

And yet…

She stared at the tiny form on the ground, and suddenly remembered her mother’s eyes—full of longing and worry—before she died.

“At least let me take her with me,” Tao Zui pleaded softly, a note of supplication in her voice—an emotion foreign to her hard-won survival.

The man stared at her for a few seconds, his gaze unreadable, as if weighing something.

Just then, chaos erupted downstairs—footsteps and shouts echoing up.

“Boss, there’s movement over here!”

“Hurry! See if there’s anything good!”

“I think I heard gunfire!”

It was the Hyena Gang. How had they tracked them here?

Tao Zui’s face changed instantly. She knew the Hyena Gang’s reputation: brutal, numerous, and ruthless. She and this man might handle a few aberrants, but against a band of vicious gang members—especially while carrying an unconscious child—they stood little chance.

The man’s face darkened, his eyes growing colder still. He glanced quickly toward the noise below, then at Tao Zui and the child, as if making a painful decision.

“If you don’t want to die, take her and go,” he said suddenly, his voice still icy but now urgent. “Use the fire escape at the back—cross three streets, there’s an abandoned subway station. It’s safe for now.”

He didn’t look at Tao Zui again. Turning toward the stairwell, knife clenched tight, his eyes burned with dangerous resolve.

He… was going to cover their retreat?

Tao Zui was stunned. She hadn’t expected this cold, merciless man to make such a choice.

The footsteps below grew nearer—they’d reached the first floor.

“Go!” the man barked, his voice brooking no refusal.

Snapping back to herself, Tao Zui hesitated no longer. She dashed to the girl, lifting her carefully into her arms. The child was feather-light, as if a gust of wind could carry her away.

With the girl in her arms, Tao Zui cast one last look at the man’s departing figure, then turned and ran for the fire escape at the end of the corridor.

The fire escape door was badly rusted. She shoved hard, and it groaned open.

Behind her came the man’s low roar, the sound of a blade biting flesh, and the Hyena Gang’s screams and curses.

Tao Zui didn’t look back. Clutching the child, she hurried down the fire escape.

Sunlight slanted through the gaps in the stairs, lighting her face. Beneath her mask, for reasons she could not name, the edge of her mouth twitched faintly.

Who was that man, truly?