Three days on foot.
The truck was gone—ditched and stripped after the engine coughed its last breath.
The freed survivors were gone too—most had slipped away during the night. One took Rui's spare knife. Another tried to poison Chen Yu with rotten broth for a tin of beans. Li Wei didn't stop him from dying slowly afterward.
Now, it was just the trio again.
And the wind was carrying the scent of cooked meat.
Not the good kind.
They found the settlement by accident.
A narrow ravine split open into a clearing nestled between fractured hills. Steel gates. Wooden towers. Smoke plumes. It was called Linhua.
There was no welcome sign. Just a half-charred scarecrow hanging from a post with a placard nailed to its chest:
"We Feed. We Trade. We Don't Forgive."
Chen Yu gave it a long look.
"Pretty sure I dated this town."
Rui wiped dust from her face. "People live here?"
"People survive here," Li Wei muttered. "There's a difference."
Still, they approached the gate. Cautious. Eyes up. Hands close to their weapons.
A man greeted them from the top of the tower.
He wore a coat made of stitched human scalps.
Inside Linhua, everything smelled of death and stew.
The gates slammed shut behind them.
People walked with dead eyes. The children didn't smile. Guards held rifles made from mismatched scrap and bone. And in the center of it all stood a cage with a teenage boy inside—mutated, twitching, but not yet turned.
They were betting on how long it would take him to "go full monster."
And feeding him scraps to push it along.
Rui whispered, "This place is rotten."
Chen Yu exhaled like he'd just walked into a spa. "Finally. Civilization."
They were taken to Governor Yao, a squat man with fingers like sausages and rings that didn't fit. He sat on a throne of ammo crates beneath a patchwork banner of torn flags from fallen settlements.
Yao smiled with blackened teeth.
"So. Strangers."
Li Wei didn't speak.
Rui stood tense.
Chen Yu, of course, bowed dramatically. "Greetings, Governor of Glamour."
Yao laughed. "You're funny. I like funny."
He leaned forward. "You'll last maybe two days here."
He snapped his fingers. A woman was dragged in—her face bloodied, her wrist freshly cut. She was tossed at their feet.
"Caught her stealing rice."
Li Wei looked down. Then back up at Yao. "You want us to do something?"
Yao smirked. "You're new. Show me how you handle judgment."
Rui stepped forward—furious.
But Li Wei stopped her with a glance.
Then he drew his blade.
And slit the woman's throat.
Clean.
Cold.
Chen Yu blinked. "Well. That escalated deliciously."
Rui stood frozen, fists clenched.
Governor Yao clapped, roaring with laughter. "I like you."
Li Wei wiped his blade.
"You won't," he said.
Night.
They were given a shack.
One room. No windows. One broken cot. One bucket of water.
Chen Yu lounged against the wall, chewing on stale bread.
"You didn't have to kill her."
"I did," Li Wei replied.
"You could've staged it. Let her go."
"I didn't."
Chen Yu's smile dropped. "You're getting colder, Wei."
Li Wei didn't answer. He was already checking his blade again.
Rui finally spoke. Her voice shook.
"Was it necessary?"
Li Wei looked up, eyes flat.
"If I didn't kill her, Yao would've killed all of us."
Rui looked away.
"And if we let this town stand?" she asked.
"We won't," he said. "But first—we learn how deep the rot goes."
Morning brought the Pit.
Linhua's greatest entertainment: daily fights between captives, infected, and desperate volunteers hoping to earn meat and shelter.
They were expected to participate.
Governor Yao was in the stands. The scalp-coat guards surrounded the arena. The people of Linhua screamed for blood like it was music.
Chen Yu volunteered.
"I've always wanted to kill in front of a cheering crowd," he said, bouncing on his heels.
They threw him in with a hound-mutated zombie that drooled tar and had three legs on one side.
Chen Yu dodged.
Spun.
Laughed.
Let it bite his sleeve, then shoved a bone spike through its jaw.
The crowd roared.
He bowed.
And then—he sliced its head off too slowly, letting the blood paint the sand like art.
Rui watched, disturbed.
Li Wei never looked away.
Chen Yu climbed out of the pit, soaked in gore, grinning.
"Who wants popcorn?"
That night, Rui whispered to Li Wei.
"There are children in cages under the pit."
"I know."
"They feed them infected meat."
"I know."
Her voice turned bitter. "Do we burn this place too?"
Li Wei didn't answer for a long time.
Then he said:
"No."
She turned to him, shocked. "No?"
"We don't burn it."
He stood, walked to the door, and looked out at the quiet streets.
"We gut it."