The growls outside hadn't stopped since last night. Low, guttural, dragging roars that rose and fell like a storm tide. The fifteenth floor had been spared direct attack so far, but Lu Ningfei knew it wouldn't last. Zombies didn't rest. Sooner or later, they'd find their way up here.
He slipped on his jacket, hair falling loose over his shoulders like spilled ink, and adjusted the knife strapped at his waist. His pale reflection in the cracked mirror by the door looked like someone preparing for a stroll rather than a fight to the death.
"Where are you going?"
The voice behind him was soft, almost nervous, but laced with stubbornness. Si Qin stood barefoot in the living room, his white pajamas wrinkled and his hair mussed from sleep. His delicate features still carried the arrogance of a young master, even when his lips trembled faintly.
"Out," Lu Ningfei said simply, reaching for the handle of 1504's reinforced door.
"No!" Si Qin rushed forward and grabbed his wrist. "You can't. It's dangerous. You'll die."
"I'll die in here too if we run out of food." Ningfei tried to shake him off, but the younger boy clung tighter.
"You don't need to go! I'll—" Si Qin puffed out his chest in mock authority. "I'll protect you."
A laugh slipped from Lu Ningfei's throat, light and cold. "Protect me? With what? Your ability to shriek louder than the zombies?"
Si Qin's face flushed. "I'm not useless!"
"No, just decorative," Ningfei said, flicking his gaze up and down. "A porcelain doll who screams every time he sees a shadow."
"I don't scream!" Si Qin snapped, but his ears burned red.
"You screamed when the neighbor's cat ran across the hall," Ningfei reminded him. "And when the lights went out last night. And when---"
"That's different!" Si Qin interrupted, stamping his foot like a spoiled child. "I won't let you go!"
"Try and stop me."
The two of them wrestled clumsily at the door. Ningfei, half-amused, half-annoyed, let the boy tug and push at him until it became ridiculous. Finally, with a sigh, he hooked an arm around Si Qin's waist and dragged him toward the exit.
"W–wait! I didn't say I'd go with you!" Si Qin yelped, squirming.
"Too bad." Ningfei yanked the door open. The stale air of the corridor spilled in, heavy with dust and the faint stench of decay. "You want to cling so badly? Fine. Let's go together."
The hall outside was silent, all three other apartments on the fifteenth floor sealed shut. Ningfei's eyes lingered briefly on 1501. Shen Zhiling didn't come back last night. He was now worried about that idiot.
Dragging a still-protesting Si Qin along, he started down the stairwell.
The smell hit them first...iron, rot, and the burnt tang of dried blood. On the twelfth floor landing, corpses lay sprawled, half-decayed heads split open by blades. Si Qin gagged and buried his face against Ningfei's sleeve.
"Pathetic," Ningfei muttered, though his steps didn't falter.
By the time they reached the lobby, the source of the carnage became clear.
Jun Yan stood in the middle of the blood-smeared floor, sword dripping crimson. His clothes, though stained, still screamed of wealth and taste--designer brands clinging stubbornly even to the apocalypse. Beside him was Xie Sheng, panting, his hands trembling around the iron pipe he held. His eyes, however, remained sharp despite his exhaustion, scanning the ruined foyer like a wolf guarding its den.
The piles of twitching corpses spoke of a long, brutal night.
.
Jun Yan looked up, and his expression twisted when his gaze landed on Lu Ningfei. "Well, well. Look who finally crawled out of his hole."
Ningfei blinked slowly, unimpressed. "Jun Yan."
Jun Yan sneered. "You look the same as ever. Pale and sickly, hiding behind others while the world burns. Do you even know what it means to fight, or do you just flutter your lashes and hope someone feeds you?"
Si Qin bristled before Ningfei could reply. "Shut your mouth!" he shouted, stepping in front of his stepbrother. His voice cracked, but the fire in his eyes was real. "You think you're so great because you can swing a sword? My brother doesn't need to fight to be better than trash like you!"
Jun Yan's expression darkened, the vein in his temple twitching. "What did you say?"
"You heard me." Si Qin crossed his arms, puffing up like a furious kitten. "You're just an arrogant dog barking at people better than you. Without your family's money, you're nothing. And now? Money's worthless. What do you have left?"
Ningfei pinched the bridge of his nose. "Si Qin…"
But the words were out, and Jun Yan's fury was already boiling. His knuckles whitened on his sword.
"Xie Sheng," Jun Yan said through gritted teeth, not taking his eyes off Si Qin. "Teach him a lesson."
Xie Sheng froze. Sweat dripped down his neck. His body ached from fighting all night, but worse was the weariness gnawing at his heart. He had always obeyed Jun Yan without question, always protected him, always loved him...because Jun Yan had once been his savior. But now, staring at the trembling Si Qin and the calm, infuriatingly beautiful Lu Ningfei, something inside him wavered.
A lesson? Against this boy?
Xie Sheng's grip on the pipe loosened.
"Xie Sheng," Jun Yan snapped, voice sharp.
"I'm tired," Xie Sheng said finally, his voice hoarse but steady. "I fought all night. I don't want to fight him."
Jun Yan's head whipped around, disbelief in his eyes. "What?"
"I said," Xie Sheng repeated, straighter this time, "I don't want to."
The silence that followed was heavier than the stench of blood.
Ningfei arched a brow, lips curving faintly. He hadn't expected that. The script, as he remembered, should have gone differently. In the novel, Xie Sheng would have beaten anyone Jun Yan told him to without hesitation. Yet here he was, refusing.
Interesting.
Jun Yan's face twisted with humiliation, anger, and something darker. His hand shook as he pointed his sword at Si Qin, but the younger boy stared back with reckless defiance, no longer hiding behind his brother.
Ningfei sighed. Enough. He stepped forward, placing a hand on Si Qin's shoulder and gently but firmly tugging him back.
"Jun Yan," he said, voice soft, almost weary. "Save your temper. It's too early in the morning for theatrics. You want to think I'm weak? Fine. Think it. I don't care. But if you want to play alpha dog, do it somewhere else. We have bigger problems than your fragile ego."
Jun Yan's nostrils flared. He looked like he wanted to retort, but Ningfei's steady, ink-black gaze--cold as still water--made his tongue falter.
Beside him, Xie Sheng looked at Ningfei, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.
Si Qin, though still fuming, let Ningfei pull him back. "But--"
"Quiet," Ningfei murmured, his tone leaving no room for argument.
For a moment, the four of them stood in uneasy silence...the arrogant heir, the loyal yet wavering protagonist, the sickly beauty with a sharp tongue, and the bratty young master clinging to him.
Outside the broken windows, zombies howled. The sky above churned with blood-red clouds, lightning crackling purple in their depths.
And Lu Ningfei thought, with a wry twist of his lips:
The story is already off-script.