The building leaders continued sending people to collect food as usual. Zhang Yi distributed the rations to the residents of Building 25, then went home.
The next day, all the leaders except Li Jian still withheld food from the ordinary residents. That night, with their last hope shattered, the people in the complex finally snapped.
Chaos erupted across the neighborhood. Angry screams and desperate cries echoed through the hallways, sharp enough to cut through the howling northern wind.
The darkness of night gave them cover. Once those timid ordinary residents no longer feared death, the building rulers finally understood just how terrifying they could be. Not everyone had Zhang Yi's fortress or his firepower. In close-quarters combat, where only cold weapons were available, numbers decided everything.
Zhang Yi sat on his warm white quilt, staring out at the window in the dark. The quiet comfort inside stood in stark contrast to the blizzard and screams outside.
He did not know exactly how brutal the fighting had become, but one thing was certain: the more people died tonight, the better it was for him.
Before sleeping, Zhang Yi checked the security of his room one more time, loaded his pistol and rifle, and lay down peacefully.
The Third Morning
When Zhang Yi stepped outside the next morning, he could only gasp.
The once-white snow had been stained bright red. Dozens of corpses lay scattered across the yard—many of them apparently forced to jump from high floors. Some had not died from the fall, only to freeze slowly in the snow, dying in agony.
Zhang Yi looked up at the surrounding buildings. Dark, dried blood stained countless windows. He could only imagine the slaughter that had taken place the night before.
That morning, no one came out to shovel snow. No one even bothered to move the bodies.
The residents of Building 25 stood by the entrance, terrified. They thanked their luck for following Zhang Yi; otherwise, most of them would have been dead as well.
Uncle You approached and asked, "Zhang Yi, do we still need to work today?"
Zhang Yi glanced at him, then at the neighbors behind him.
"If you want to eat tomorrow, you work. Unless…" He pointed at the corpses. "…you want to end up like them."
The group shuddered. Compared with the dead, they were truly fortunate. They would gladly work as long as it meant staying alive.
"Yes! We'll start right away!"
Still shaken by the carnage, they grabbed their tools and began shoveling with frantic energy.
Uncle You looked around and asked, "The other buildings aren't working. Should we tell them to come out?"
Zhang Yi smiled faintly. "Do you think they even have the time?"
"Huh?"
"Last night was only the beginning. The conflict is between the rulers and the residents in every building. Until they solve the food problem, one side has to be completely wiped out. One night isn't nearly enough."
A chill ran down Uncle You's spine. It was the classic strategy of turning enemies against each other.
"Then what do we do?"
Zhang Yi said calmly, "It has nothing to do with us. Let them keep killing each other."
The time still wasn't right. He wasn't in a hurry.
That afternoon, Zhang Yi returned and handed out food as usual. He noticed that some buildings were now represented by strangers—control had already changed hands in the fighting. But it didn't matter to him. Whoever ruled, he would still enforce the agreement.
That night, he sent a message in the leaders' group:
"If I don't see work progress tomorrow, food and cigarettes will not be guaranteed."
The next day, the residents returned to the square to work.
But compared to two days earlier, their numbers had already dropped by at least a third. In just two days, more than four hundred people had died in the struggles over food.
Uncle You couldn't understand it. "They know those ten rations per building will never reach them. Why don't they fight harder to survive?"
Zhang Yi smiled thoughtfully.
"Maybe they haven't reached their breaking point yet. Or maybe they've fallen so far into despair that death feels like relief. Human nature… no one can fully understand it. Not even me."
Uncle You shook his head. "This can't go on forever. Should we just watch?"
"It won't last long," Zhang Yi said. "Lack of supplies and internal fighting will finish them off quickly in this apocalypse."
Uncle You swallowed and said nothing.
Just then, a woman in a fur coat walked through the snow.
"Zhang Yi, I want to talk about cooperation again."
It was Chen Lingyu, the leader of Building 9. Her clothes were stained with blood—she had survived the brutal slaughter of the previous night.
Zhang Yi smiled faintly, disdain in his eyes. "You? What could we possibly talk about?"
Chen Lingyu looked him straight in the eye, drawing on all her experience as a saleswoman.
"The complex is going to collapse if this continues. Internal conflict is out of control. No matter how much food you bring back, people will use force to seize more. The killing will never stop."
Zhang Yi looked at her calmly.
"Oh? And then?"
Of course he knew.
This entire situation had been created by him.