Accompanied by a roar of bluster, the workshop door slid open.
The leader walked out, clutching the neck of a man wearing broken glasses and covered in injuries.
The leader hid behind the man wearing glasses, pressing his gun to his temple, his eyes frantic with a hint of testing: "Back off! Everyone back off! Drop your guns!"
The man wearing glasses, with a gun to his head, saw the newcomers clearly through his cracked lenses.
It was Rick! And Shane!
In that instant, a burst of ecstatic light erupted in his originally dead eyes.
They really came to save us!
But facing the newcomers, Rick didn't make a move, only shaking his head almost imperceptibly.
The man wearing glasses shuddered, swallowing the words he instinctively wanted to say.
People who can survive in the apocalypse until now aren't stupid; he immediately understood Rick's meaning—
If he revealed they knew each other now, these thugs would know he was an important bargaining chip. He might not live, and he would definitely implicate these teammates who came to save him.
So, he bit his lip until it bled. Though his body shook violently with fear, he didn't make a sound, forcing himself to pretend he didn't know these people.
This scene was extremely subtle, and the leader, in a state of high tension, didn't notice.
He only saw Rick's steady, unwavering gun barrel.
"Are you deaf?!"
Seeing that Rick had no intention of lowering his gun and was instead closing in, the leader's resolve began to waver, and he started to panic. "I said back off! Or I'll kill him! He's innocent!"
"Is that so?"
Rick stopped in his tracks, but he didn't lower his gun; instead, he revealed a cold smile.
"We don't know this man at all."
He shrugged, his tone chillingly indifferent. "We didn't come here to be philanthropists."
"If you want to kill an irrelevant stranger to scare me... Hah, save it."
"I don't believe you! You..." The leader gritted his teeth, trying to find a crack in Rick's expression.
Bang!
As soon as he finished speaking, Rick actually pulled the trigger without any warning!
The bullet whistled out, dangerously grazing the man's shoulder and hitting the iron door behind him, kicking up a shower of sparks.
Although the shot didn't hit the hostage, it was only a few centimeters from his head. If his hand had shaken even slightly, the man's head would have exploded!
"Tsk."
Standing beside Rick, Merle rolled his eyes dramatically, looking at Rick with disdain: "Can you do this or not? How can you miss from this close?"
"If you can't, let me do it. I guarantee one shot through both of 'em."
As he spoke, he actually raised his shotgun, looking eager to blast the two "conjoined twins" to pieces together.
"Fuck!"
Looking at Merle's genuine mad-dog expression, a chill rose in the leader's heart.
Could he really have overthought it? Were these people just a bunch of passing lunatics?
"Boss, what do we do?" The subordinate beside him was also scared witless, asking tremulously, "They seem just like us, a bunch of bastards!"
The leader gritted his teeth, looking into Rick's emotionless eyes; his suspicions began to waver.
But just then, his naturally suspicious nature made him stop again.
"No."
The leader suddenly narrowed his eyes, staring intently at Rick. "If you were really here to rob us, why did the suppressive fire stop so suddenly?"
"If you didn't care about the hostage, why waste words with me? Why not just open fire and be done with it?"
"What do you want? Or rather... who the hell are you?"
Rick's heart tightened; this thug leader was sharper than expected. If he couldn't provide a reasonable explanation, the other party might choose to go down in flames.
In that split second, the hypocritical and fanatical face of 'The Shepherd' flashed through Rick's mind.
His eyes flickered, the corner of his mouth curling into an arc as he spoke slowly:
"You're right to ask. We indeed don't care if this man lives or dies."
Rick's voice changed, becoming low and carrying a bone-chilling familiarity:
"But if you lay down your weapons now and release all the 'lambs,' we are still willing to give you a chance."
The leader froze, a hint of joy flashing in his eyes, thinking he'd guessed right... but before he could speak, he heard Rick utter the second half:
"A chance... to face judgment."
"What?!"
The leader's expression froze instantly, as if he'd seen a ghost. "Judgment?!"
The subordinates behind him heard those words and immediately broke into a commotion; panic spread like a plague.
"The Believers? That group of lunatics is back?!"
"How can this be?! I saw the fire over there with my own eyes!"
Fear fermented in the crowd, and a few cowardly ones even instinctively took several steps back.
"You... you are The Believers?!" the leader shouted in disbelief, even wondering if he'd heard wrong.
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible! Wasn't your factory blown up?!"
Facing the questioning, Rick neither explained nor denied.
He just looked at the leader as if looking at a dead man:
"Fire can only purify the flesh, but it cannot burn away faith."
Rick was talking serious nonsense, but his gun remained steady, pointed at the other man.
"We could have killed you on the spot, letting your filthy souls drop straight into hell."
"But God is merciful."
He took a step forward, his aura imposing: "We are willing to give you a chance to accept judgment and wash away your sins."
Hearing Rick's string of bullshit, Shane's mouth twitched violently, and his sinister expression almost broke.
But fortunately, his reaction was swift, and he quickly adjusted his facial muscles into an even more gruesome sneer.
"Death, or judgment. Now, choose."
"Don't be too touched, sinners."
Merle adapted remarkably fast. He threw himself into the role, even tilting his head and revealing a distorted smile, adding sarcastically, "We're just so fucking merciful, aren't we?"
Louis, hiding in the shadows far back, watched this perfect piece of improvisation with great interest and admiration.
He never expected that the always upright Rick would pull a 'soul possession' trick, directly impersonating that dead charlatan Shepherd.
Although Rick's acting was slightly stiff, his heartfelt anger and ruthlessness happened to make up for it, completely baffling the leader opposite him.
Louis glanced at the expressions of the others.
Andrea was bewildered, completely failing to understand what Rick was doing; T-Dog and Glenn were trying hard to keep a straight face, afraid of bursting out laughing; the others were all looking at Rick with complex expressions, as if they couldn't bear to watch.
Daryl even jerked his neck uncomfortably, as if he wanted to distance himself from the others on the spot.
It was lucky it was night and the light was dim; plus, the leader was completely intimidated by Rick's aura, his attention entirely focused forward, so he didn't notice the group's flawed micro-expressions.
Indeed, the leader believed it.
This way of speaking, this nauseating moral superiority, and that obsessive fixation on the word 'judgment'... it was all too fucking familiar!
Who else could it be but that group of persistent, brain-damaged 'Believers'?!
The leader began to curse madly in his heart: Was that factory just a decoy? Those freaks didn't actually die out, and they even followed us here?!
But while cursing, his mental defenses also wavered.
Although 'judgment' was terrifying, those Believers loved that tedious formalism most.
As long as he wasn't gunned down on the spot, even if he was captured and locked up, there would definitely be a time gap.
As long as he was alive, there would be a chance to escape, there would be variables.
Living even one more minute was better than nothing!
"Fine... fine!"
The muscles on the leader's face twitched, and the fierce light in his eyes slowly receded, turning into compromise.
"I accept judgment! Don't shoot!"