The scent of instant noodles mixed with disinfectant clung to the air.
The storage room behind the convenience store was cold, damp—like death had passed through recently.
I crouched on the ground, unpacking a box of braised beef rice. My phone buzzed.
A WeChat message lit up the screen.
[Chen Mo: We're moving into the new place tomorrow. Come have dinner?]
Oh.
Them again.
In my last life, I brought hot soup to their so-called "farewell dinner."
Chen Mo smiled gently as he handed me the bowl:
"You can fight better than Weiwei. Help us hold the line, okay?"
And then… he and Lin Wei shoved me into the zombie horde.
They watched as my ankle got torn off.
She screamed:
"Run, Chen Mo! She can take it!"
—But I couldn't.
This time, though?
I won't be the one who "can take it."
I stared at the box of takeout on the shelf.
Braised beef, again.
This time, laced with laxatives.
Bon appétit, my dears.
The storage room door creaked.
Lin Wei stormed in, heels clacking, perfume and irritation all over her face.
"Late Zhao! My lipstick—where the hell is it?! Hurry up! I've got dinner with Mo!"
She was still the same. Sweet face. Poisonous mouth.
I smiled calmly.
"It's in the blue crate marked special item. Grab it yourself. My hands are dirty."
She cursed, stomping off into the shadows of the storage room.
My phone rang again.
Chen Mo.
"Zhao, I bought your favorite—braised beef…"
Braised beef again?
How touching.
"Shame," I whispered, voice flat. "You should've saved it for your funeral."
I hung up.
A scream split the room.
"AAAHHHHHHH!"
Snarling. Growling. Bone cracking.
And Lin Wei, for once, truly afraid.
Another call.
Chen Mo again.
"Zhao! My stomach—shit, it hurts! Someone's at the door! They're banging! What did you do?! Help me!!"
I didn't move.
The light flickered.
I reached into my pocket, fingers brushing the blade of the fruit knife.
Warm.
Steady.
This time,
I'll be the one watching you beg.