Xu Chi was too exhausted, and the dried squid was far too tough to chew.
Fortunately, there was a refrigerator at the shop's entrance, still stocked with water and soft drinks.
He couldn't order Pho Noan Yi around.
Even if he did, this little zombie probably wouldn't understand.
Enduring the pain, Xu Chi propped himself up against the shelf, dragging his right leg step by step toward the refrigerator to fetch some water. Pho Noan Yi dumbly watched the entire process.
It didn't matter. As long as she guarded her food and didn't let those ugly things outside snatch it away, it was enough.
Xu Chi gritted his teeth, grabbed a bottle of water, and returned to the shelf. Bracing himself, he slowly sat down.
In all his life, he had never been to such places.
Even when the apocalypse struck, he had always been protected. He had never even stepped outside the safe zone, let alone killed a zombie.
Deep down, he knew times had changed.
But Xu Duc Hung told him to stay put—for his own safety.
Who would have thought? A man who had never even killed a chicken—
Once he acted, he directly killed eight people.
At the thought, a wave of nausea rolled up from his stomach.
Back then, he had no time to think, only to survive.
Afterward, everything became even more chaotic.
Now, in this rare stillness, he recalled the sensation of his dagger piercing flesh: the sticky softness, the resistance when the blade caught on bone and refused to come out.
Xu Chi tilted his head back, eyes shut.
Holding the half-empty water bottle, he poured it straight over his head.
Water trickled down his short, drenched hair as he gasped for breath.
It was fine. He would adapt.
There would be many more people to kill in the future…
Pho Noan Yi tilted her head as she watched him douse himself.
Somehow, she felt that the "sugar figurine" wasn't sweet anymore.
But—he was even more beautiful.
Soaked through, Xu Chi leaned his head back, lost in his ragged breaths.
Droplets ran from his hair, down his pale face, sliding along his straight nose, brushing past his flushed lips.
His star-like eyes now dimmed with melancholy and despair, cloaked in a heavy darkness that hurt to look at—
A beauty both damp and shattered.
Water seeped into his blood-stained shirt, clinging tightly to his chest and abdomen, every muscle line made visible with his breathing.
Pho Noan Yi didn't understand aesthetics; she couldn't appreciate any of this.
She stared twice, then turned back to watch the zombies outside.
The stench in Xu Chi's nose was washed away by the water—
But when Pho Noan Yi turned, a gust of wind brought the foul odor back.
Xu Chi held his breath, glancing at her.
That tattered business suit she'd worn for over a month had fermented into a choking stench.
Help me.
He rubbed his wet hand against his nose.
Gnawing on the dried squid again, he glanced at the shops across the street.
The little zombie needed a change of clothes.
The thought flashed in his mind as he eyed her frail back.
The clothes hung loose on her thin frame.
She had once been a woman.
But a zombie was no longer human.
Forget it. Whether male or female, the stench was unbearable. She needed new clothes.
But first—he had to tend to his own wounds.
Pho Noan Yi, watching the surrounding zombies scatter from her aura, felt smug. Proudly, she turned back and shook her head.
Xu Chi had stripped off his shirt, soaking one clean corner and clamping the other end in his teeth, veins standing out as he wiped his wounds.
His right leg, dragged across the ground, had torn his trousers.
Flesh and blood mixed, the shinbone broken—thankfully not protruding.
A brute-force ability-user had snapped his leg. But Xu Chi had driven his dagger straight into the man's temple in return.
That was the last of them.
Drained of power and strength, he had finally been struck down.
Though lacking real combat experience, Xu Chi had trained in many skills—
Taekwondo, sparring—once his hobbies.
Pho Noan Yi stared blankly, slightly displeased.
The more he wiped, the fainter the sweet fragrance became.
She felt wronged.
[It's about to be wiped away completely…]
Her inner voice carried a sobbing whimper.
Xu Chi froze, sweat beading his forehead.
Thinking how obedient this little zombie had been, and how he would still need to use her later, he released the fabric from his teeth and coaxed gently:
"Once I finish wiping, I'll feed you."
Pho Noan Yi immediately healed.
Her stiff face showed no expression, but her wide eyes sparkled with joy and anticipation.
Xu Chi never imagined he would one day be carried by a zombie—
Or that he would have to coax one.
He chuckled bitterly.
More mockery than amusement, but mostly sorrow.
With a sigh, he bit the fabric again and resumed cleaning.
Rotten leaves and dirt clung to the cloth—like stains he could never wash away.
His back must have been injured too; sitting or leaning hurt.
But he couldn't care. He had to change into clean clothes for himself and the little zombie, to avoid infection.
Then find a hospital or pharmacy.
At that moment, Pho Noan Yi stared at his glistening chest and abdomen, finding them appetizing.
Her body twitched, but she knew she couldn't bite him.
Frustration welled up.
Suppressing her hunger, she obediently waited.
Night had long fallen.
Silence reigned—the weaker zombies, driven off by her aura, no longer moaned their chorus of "so hungry."
For the first time since the apocalypse began, there was peace.
Xu Chi savored the quiet.
He belonged to the dark; day and night were the same to him.
After wiping what wounds he could, he tore his ragged trousers, ripping both pants and shirt into strips.
Using two stiff dried-fish bags, he splinted his broken shin.
Walking would be painful.
But he refused to be a sandbag, slung over the zombie's shoulder.
Or worse—carried on her back.
Once finished, he gripped the shelf, dragged himself upright, panting heavily as he suppressed the waves of pain.
His right leg was useless.
He clenched his jaw, tilted his head back, veins bulging as he forced himself forward, picking up a metal rod used for rolling shutters.
Step by step, he tested his weight.
Manageable.
As long as he endured the pain, he could move.
But not far.
At least it was September—the summer heat fading into early autumn.
Though soaked, he didn't feel cold.
Pho Noan Yi tilted her head, nearly toppling from the weight of her helmet, as she watched him rise.
Leaning against the door, Xu Chi laughed at her silly look.
A soft laugh slipped from his lips—
Crisp, numbing.
Pho Noan Yi shook her head, sensing something strange.
Xu Chi stood askew, one hand on the door as if calling a pet.
"Come here."
Those starlit eyes blinked at her.
She stumbled forward, stopping before him, tilting her head again.
Good thing his arms were long; Xu Chi caught her, rolling his eyes helplessly.
Just like an idiot.
"Closer."
Pho Noan Yi, bewildered, stepped nearer.
Xu Chi leaned back, bracing his weight against the door.
Pain stabbed like needles down his spine, but he endured.
He pressed both hands to her helmet, trying to lift it off.
It rose slightly, but didn't come free.
Frowning, he applied more strength.
Though weaker than brute-force users, a first-tier Shadow ability-user was no weakling.
He pulled so hard the helmet strap tugged Pho Noan Yi's chin, lifting her partly off the ground.
Like uprooting a scallion.
This scallion was light.
[Ah? I can fly!]
Pho Noan Yi's wide eyes sparkled with wonder. She tried to look down, but the helmet blocked her.
Xu Chi snorted, laughing aloud.
He let go, setting her down.
Laughing until his body shook, almost collapsing from his wounds.
The little bell on his left ear chimed ling-ling, clear and bright in the silent night.
Pho Noan Yi landed, then lowered her head curiously.
Why had she suddenly flown?
The heavy helmet tipped forward; she nearly toppled again.
Xu Chi swiftly pressed it down with a fingertip.
She wobbled like a tumbler doll, finally steadying under his slender finger.
"Come here."
This time, his voice brimmed with helplessness.
Pho Noan Yi obediently shuffled closer.
[Ah, I still want to fly!]
Xu Chi burst out laughing again, too hard, reopening the cut at his lip. He hissed, suppressing it.
Even without seeing her, just hearing that soft, silly voice was unbearably cute.
For a moment, he was dazed.
What a pity.
She must have been an adorable girl.
But she was no longer human.
Xu Chi chuckled bitterly, unfastened the helmet strap with careful fingers, then quickly recoiled at the chill of her skin.
With both hands, he lifted the cat-ear helmet off.
Freed of the weight, Pho Noan Yi's eyes lit up, head tilting side to side.
[It's not heavy anymore.]
Her cropped hair framed a small face, wide eyes, high, delicate nose.
Even with her bluish skin, she could be called a beauty among zombies.
What a pity—she was still a zombie.