Third-floor office.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Come in."
Amy pushed the door open and stood to the side: "BOSS, Merle has arrived."
"Let him in."
Merle walked into the office, his footsteps somewhat hesitant.
He was wearing an old, faded T-shirt, and his hair was a mess, looking completely out of place in this tidy office.
This was the first time Merle had met Wu Fan alone.
He felt a bit nervous.
It wasn't fear—who had he, Merle, ever been afraid of in his life? But this feeling of being called into the boss's office alone felt just like being called to the principal's office for a lecture when he was a kid; he felt completely uncomfortable.
"Sit."
Wu Fan pointed to the chair opposite him.
Merle sat down, perching only on the edge of the chair.
Wu Fan picked up the information sheet on the table and began to read:
"Merle Dixon, forty-three years old, dropped out of elementary school, joined the army after becoming an adult, but was discharged and retired early after less than two months of service for talking back to and beating up a Sergeant, knocking out five of his teeth, and was subsequently sentenced to sixteen months in prison."
He put down the information sheet, looked up at Merle, and smiled faintly:
"I assume I won't be getting beaten up by you, right?"
Merle was stunned for a moment, then spread his hands: "If you mind, I'll leave right away."
Wu Fan laughed.
He took a pack of cigarettes out of the drawer, pulled one out, and tossed it to Merle.
Then he took another one out and lit it himself.
The lighter slid across the table.
Merle caught it, looked at the cigarette in his hand, and was somewhat surprised.
He recognized this brand; it was a hard pack, his favorite.
Having been without cigarettes for half a month was worse than death for him.
He lit it, took a deep drag, let the smoke circle in his lungs, and then slowly exhaled.
"Satisfying..."
He narrowed his eyes, and his whole body relaxed.
Wu Fan leaned back in his chair, smoking as well, without saying a word.
After smoking half the cigarette, Merle finally spoke: "Boss, you didn't bring me here just to give me a cigarette, did you?"
Wu Fan nodded: "Smart."
He flicked the ash into the ashtray and looked at Merle: "I like your background, and I like your personality."
Merle frowned, not understanding what this meant.
"The way the world is now..."
Wu Fan continued: "The laws and morals of the outside world have collapsed. Those man-eating things won't reason with you, and not everyone who has survived will reason with you either."
He paused.
"Rick and Shane, they are police officers, and their minds are still filled with those rules—arrest who needs to be arrested, release who needs to be released. That's fine; they are the most suitable for maintaining internal security in the base."
He changed the subject: "But what about the outside?"
Merle's eyes slowly lit up.
"There are survivors out there, some good, some bad, some willing to cooperate, and some who want to steal our things."
Wu Fan looked at him: "I need someone to scout the path, go to the surrounding towns, see how many survivors are left, whether there are any organized factions, mark their locations, and figure out their background."
He leaned forward:
"If you encounter hostiles—those who want to steal our things, kill our people, or bully the weak—I need someone to eradicate them."
Merle was stunned.
He thought Wu Fan had called him in to be a black glove—to do the dirty work that couldn't be seen, to be reviled, to be discarded.
But what was the result?
This was asking him to be a general.
A general to expand territory.
"You... you mean..."
Merle's voice trembled slightly: "Let me lead a team? Go out and explore? Fight wars?"
Wu Fan nodded: "Yes, you were a soldier—although not for long, at least you received management training. You've fought, you've been to prison, you know how sinister human nature can be, and most importantly—"
He looked into Merle's eyes:
"You are ruthless enough."
Merle fell silent.
He thought back to those years.
No one had ever looked up to him since he was a child.
Elementary school teachers said he was stupid, and people around him mocked him as a thug.
He finally managed to join the army, wanting to prove himself, but was targeted everywhere by that Sergeant who had gotten in through connections.
He hit him, then was discharged, sentenced, and spent sixteen months in prison.
And after he got out?
Everyone around him knew he had been to prison.
They would take a detour when they saw him and point fingers behind his back.
His alcoholic father would only take out his anger more on his younger brother.
No one believed in him.
No one gave him a chance.
Now, there was a man, sitting in this office, smoking, looking at him, saying he wanted to make him a general.
Merle stood up.
"Boss."
He said, his voice a bit hoarse: "I'm willing to do it."
Wu Fan looked at him.
"Since I was a kid..."
Merle said: "No one looked up to me. When I was in the army, that Sergeant looked down on me—but in the end, he couldn't beat me. After I got out of prison, those neighbors looked down on me too—but I've survived until now."
He took a deep breath.
"You give me this opportunity, you give me this trust; I, Merle, am not someone who doesn't know what's good for him."
He reached out his hand.
Wu Fan also stood up and shook his hand.
"One week."
Wu Fan said: "Pick your own people, lead your squad, and go around to a few nearby towns. While scavenging for supplies, mark the locations of survivors and figure out if there are any organized factions. You don't have to force a confrontation; safety first."
"Understood."
"After you return, based on what you've found, I'll arrange the next step."
Merle let go of his hand and stood straight: "Don't worry, Boss, I won't let you down."
Wu Fan nodded and handed him another pack of cigarettes: "Take it, smoke it on the road."
Merle took the cigarettes and grinned.
In that smile, there was gratitude, excitement, and a drive that had been pent up for over forty years.
He turned and strode out of the office.
After the door closed, Wu Fan sat back down and was about to light another cigarette when...
Where's my lighter?
Damn, that bastard Merle, taking the cigarettes is fine, but not the lighter.
Wu Fan speechlessly put down the cigarette and spent 1 point from the hive system store to redeem a lighter.
After lighting the cigarette.
He had considered the choice of Merle for a long time.
A thug, a hooligan, someone who had been to prison, someone no one looked up to.
But it was precisely this kind of person who understood the laws of survival in the apocalypse best.
Rick and the others still needed time to grow and needed to experience that cruelty before they could become real warriors.
But he couldn't wait that long.
He needed people he could use right now.
Merle was ruthless enough.
Ruthless to himself, and even more ruthless to his enemies.
A ruthless man who could saw off his own hand without anesthesia—would you say he's ruthless or not?
If it were Rick, he might hesitate when encountering raiders, wondering if the other party might have a change of heart and realize their mistake.
But Merle wouldn't.
If they need to be killed, he kills them; if they need to be robbed, he robs them.
This is the black glove—no, it should be a general to expand territory.
Wu Fan exhaled a puff of smoke and looked out the window.
On the training ground, Rick was leading the newly recruited security personnel in training.
Shane was correcting their movements nearby.
The two of them worked well together, looking like old partners of many years.
They were good.
But they needed time.
And Merle, he didn't.
Wu Fan stubbed out his cigarette and leaned back in his chair.
The days ahead would become increasingly interesting.