Crack!
Another shot rang out, and another of Ethan's men collapsed to the ground, lifeless. The remaining members turned to Ethan with pale faces, their voices trembling as they pleaded, "Boss, what do we do? Say something—anything!"
But Chen Du gave them no time to regroup. One by one, Ethan's teammates fell until only he remained. Desperation clouded Ethan's eyes as he clutched his crossbow, shouting with a mix of fury and madness, "1945! If you're a real man, come out and face me! Hiding like this isn't skill—it's cowardice!"
His words were met with a bullet to the leg. The sharp pain nearly made him drop his weapon. Perhaps in some twisted act of mercy—or mockery—Chen Du then shattered the crossbow in Ethan's hands with another precise shot. Only then did Chen Du step calmly into view from the courtyard.
Chen Du regarded Ethan the way he once had a trapped rat in his old rented apartment—cold, detached, and utterly in control.
Crack!
Another shot echoed. This time, it struck Ethan's hand as he tried to quietly grab another crossbow from a fallen comrade. Chen Du watched silently as Ethan screamed in agony, his own expression unwavering.
Ethan, though cornered, remained defiant. Perhaps aware that survival was impossible, he spat out a curse: "Damn it all! If you're going to kill me, just get it over with! Stop dragging this out!"
Chen Du chuckled softly. Instead of firing again, he replied coolly, "You're quite the actor, playing the victim so well. It was you and your crew who came after me with ill intentions. I'm merely defending myself."
Ethan scoffed, blood dripping from his mouth. "Fine, I underestimated you. I'll take my loss. Just make it quick!"
Chen Du raised an eyebrow, amused. "What? Aren't you even going to try convincing me to spare you? Who knows—you might sway me."
Ethan laughed bitterly. "1945, even if I begged for mercy, would you really let me live?"
Chen Du smiled, revealing his perfectly white teeth. "No, I wouldn't."
Leaving weeds unplucked lets them grow back when the spring breeze blows. Letting a tiger return to the mountains? That would be sheer folly.
Chen Du raised his M9, aiming it squarely at Ethan.
Ethan closed his eyes, his lips trembling slightly. Despite knowing there was no escape, the primal fear of death still gripped him.
Crack!
The shot rang out, but Ethan didn't die. He opened his eyes in shock, staring at Chen Du in confusion. A wild hope surged within him—Could he actually be sparing me?
At that moment, Chen Du smirked slyly and fired again.
This time, the bullet struck Ethan squarely in the forehead.
"Sorry about that," Chen Du said casually. "I missed the first time."
"Damn it!" Ethan's eyes widened as he collapsed to the ground, dead and unseeing.
Under different circumstances, if they'd been more cautious, things might have ended differently. But greed had blinded them, leading them straight into a trap Chen Du hadn't even needed to set carefully. In the end, it cost them their lives.
Chen Du scavenged what little supplies the group had left and tossed their bodies outside the fortress wall. By morning, the ever-diligent zombie cleanup crew would handle the rest.
With the immediate threat eliminated, Chen Du finally relaxed. He returned to his room and flopped onto the soft bed. "Finally, that thorn in my side is gone..."
He closed his eyes and drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep—a luxury he hadn't experienced in a long time.
When he woke naturally, Chen Du decided against venturing out to search for supplies today. The resources around the villa area were no longer sufficient for his needs. If he wanted higher-quality supplies, he'd need to delve into areas teeming with zombies. As the saying goes, Fortune favors the bold.
But the recent battle had significantly depleted his combat resources. While he had an unlimited supply of water to trade for food and supplies, the real issue was that the trading platforms couldn't keep up with his consumption rate. Chen Du spent most of his free time scouring the platforms, even delegating some of the work to Xie Li, who stayed home to assist. Still, the results fell short of expectations.
Due to the shortage of combat supplies, Chen Du postponed his next supply run. The M9 wasn't designed for sustained combat; once the fifteen-round magazine emptied, reloading was necessary. Facing large hordes of zombies with such a weapon would leave him vulnerable. One bite, and it would be over.
Thinking about it, Chen Du couldn't help but daydream. If only the system would grant me an unlimited AK-47 or Molotov cocktails—I'd dominate.
Just as he thought about unlimited supplies, Chen Du remembered that today was the day he could collect his daily allocation. He quickly opened his inbox and found the system's delivery—red wine.
Chen Du took out the bottle and examined the corroded label, feeling both amused and frustrated. I wonder how this tastes.
He pulled out a regular glass from his backpack and, with swift precision, snapped the bottle's neck cleanly, as if sliced by a knife. He brought the glass to his nose and inhaled deeply. Even without proper aeration, the rich aroma of the wine was unmistakable.
"Drinking wine feels like it's lacking that certain flair," Chen Du muttered as he swirled the glass in his hand.
Then it hit him. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a few sticks of cheese.
"That's better! You can't have wine without snacks. Too bad I don't have pickles—they'd complete the experience."
Chen Du snapped a photo of the wine and cheese arranged on a coffee table and posted it in the chat channel.
ID 1945: "Wine and cheese—but it's still lacking something. Beer would be nice, and maybe some pickles. Anyone got those? Put them up on the trading platform. (Attached photo)"
The moment the post went up, the chat channel erupted. In a world where even basic necessities were scarce, and most people struggled to survive, the sight of luxury items like wine and cheese was nothing short of provocation. It was a blatant display of wealth and comfort, igniting waves of anger.
ID 54321: "1945, you're crossing the line! Most of us are barely surviving, and here you are flaunting luxuries. What's your game?"
ID 123321: "Exactly! Enjoy yourself if you must, but don't rub it in our faces. You're demoralizing everyone!"
ID 12359: "Seriously, I'm starving here. 1945, show some kindness and share some supplies! I'll sing your praises!"
ID 193844: "Yeah, if you're so well-off, why not help the rest of us? Share, and we'll remember you fondly!"
Chen Du couldn't help but laugh as he read the flood of complaints and thinly veiled attempts at guilt-tripping him.
ID 1945: "Sure, call me 'savior,' and I'll give you some supplies. Otherwise, stop whining. Post what I want. If you don't like it, don't look—or go out and find your own supplies. (Smirking emoji) Effort is key; blame yourselves if you lack it."
Chen Du had no intention of letting anyone guilt-trip him. He had long since shifted his mindset. Moral high ground? As long as I stand firm, they can't touch me.