Apocalypse Ground Zero: Refusing To Leave Home

Chapter 330: A Dangerous Situation

Old Chen contacted us before the smoke even had a chance to finish clearing from the road.

Because of course he did.

Apparently, one corpse full of bugs, a dead vine, a half-eaten zombie, and a burned trench through my property weren’t enough problems for one morning. The universe had looked at everything happening around the mansion and decided I was getting lazy.

"Miss Shen," Old Chen’s voice crackled through the radio.

He sounded distracted, and several people were speaking loudly somewhere behind him. "Three strangers have appeared near the eastern houses. One man and two women. They’re asking for food, water, and medicine."

I looked back across the blackened strip of ground cutting through the edge of my territory. Smoke still rose from the trench in thin streams, but none of the plants had returned. Even the grass farther up the driveway continued leaning away from the section Lingyun had burned twice.

"Then give them something or don’t," I replied, shifting the radio to my other hand. "You’re a grown man. As long as they stay away from my house, they’re your problem."

Yuche turned his head and looked at me, one eyebrow lifting slightly. He was smart enough not to mention that the worker’s houses were technically inside the area I had claimed for Gu Han’s benefits.

But he didn’t seem to realize that they simply weren’t inside the part I cared about most.

My territory started at the porch and ended at the back yard. Anything else wasn’t any of my concern.

Old Chen hesitated long enough for the static to fill the silence. "They have a handcart and look like they’ve been travelling for several days. The man claims they came from a safe settlement and only need enough supplies to return home."

My thumb stopped moving against the side of the radio.

"A safe settlement?" I repeated, looking toward the burned road as though it might explain why anyone would willingly leave one.

"That’s what he claims," Old Chen answered carefully.

I frowned and glanced at Yuche. "Then why did they leave it?"

Another pause followed, this one long enough to tell me Old Chen hadn’t thought to ask. The voices behind him grew louder before he apparently moved farther away from them.

Lingyun leaned against what remained of the fence, soot covering his shirt and one side of his face. "Maybe they ran out of magical water," he offered, rubbing a black mark from his wrist with his thumb.

I turned slowly toward him. "Why would your mind go directly to magical water?"

He shrugged, completely comfortable with his reasoning. "They said safe settlement. Safe settlements always have something stupid behind them. A wall everyone trusts too much, a cult with matching clothes, magical spring water from a dimensional space. You are the one that got me into short dramas. Didn’t you watch the apocalypse ones? There is always a sacred spring in one of them."

"Still... Those are very specific choices," I pointed out, studying him for any sign that he was joking.

Lingyun only brushed another piece of ash from his sleeve. "I blame you for making me watch too many dramas."

Unfortunately, I couldn’t argue with him. He wasn’t wrong.

Old Chen spoke again before Lingyun could explain his entire ranking system for suspicious settlements. This time, the amusement was gone from his voice. "Miss Shen, the plants around the house are acting strangely."

My attention snapped back to the radio, and the irritation I’d been enjoying disappeared. "What exactly are they doing?"

"At first, I thought they were preparing to attack the strangers," he explained, lowering his voice. "The vines moved as soon as the group reached the eastern road, but then they pulled away. Even the weeds near their cart are bending in the opposite direction."

I stopped watching the radio and looked at Yuche.

He was already staring at me, his expression calm but his shoulders slightly tighter than they had been a moment earlier. He’d reached the same conclusion before either of us needed to say it.

Well wasn’t that just wonderful.

The dead man hadn’t crawled into our territory on his own. Someone had carried him near the road, covered him with a tarp, and left an empty water bottle beside him. Now three thin strangers had arrived from a supposedly safe settlement while every plant around them tried to escape.

Apparently, the corpse had friends.

"Don’t touch them," I ordered, already walking toward the mansion.

Old Chen went silent again, so I stopped and brought the radio closer to my mouth. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes, but—"

"Don’t touch their clothes, cart, bags, bottles, food, shoes, hair, or anything else they dragged here," I cut in. "In fact, don’t breathe too enthusiastically in their direction until I arrive."

A nervous sound came through the radio before Old Chen asked, "Do you think they’re infected?"

"How would I know?" I glanced down at the soot coating my shoes. "I’m standing near the mansion talking to you through a radio. If I could diagnose people from this distance, I’d have found a much easier apocalypse job."

Lingyun made a choking sound beside me and pressed his fist against his mouth, pretending he hadn’t laughed.

I ignored him and continued giving Old Chen instructions. "Move everyone back slowly. Don’t let the residents panic and rush toward the strangers, but don’t let the strangers walk any closer either. Keep at least ten meters between them and everyone else."

"What am I supposed to tell them?" Old Chen asked. He sounded as though he was already imagining the argument.

"Tell them the woman who owns the neighborhood is in a bad mood."

Lingyun nodded thoughtfully, his mouth still twitching. "Very believable."

I lowered the radio and looked at him. "I can still make your mood worse."

His smile widened rather than disappearing. "Also believable."

Zhenlan took the radio from me before I could threaten Lingyun properly. He asked Old Chen exactly where the strangers had stopped, his tone steady enough that Old Chen’s answers became calmer too.

While they spoke, Yuche gathered the strips of metal he had used to cut the roots. The pieces lifted from the ground, shook off the dirt, and reshaped themselves into narrow bands behind him.

Chenghai picked up the shovel.

I looked from the shovel to his face. "Are you planning to dig the strangers a trench too?"

"I’m planning ahead," he replied, resting the handle against his shoulder while his eyes remained on the road.

Honestly, that was probably sensible.

We reached the eastern houses less than fifteen minutes later. Old Chen had cleared the road around the strangers and positioned his people between them and the residents who had come outside to stare.

Because nothing improved a dangerous situation like an audience.