Chapter 38: Pouring a Headful of Golden Liquid Over You

Seeing that no one was responding, Zhou Peng knocked on the door even harder.

"Zhang Yi, Zhang Yi! It’s me, Zhou Peng!"

"Open the door, please. I have something very important to tell you."

Zhang Yi sneered, reached out, and pulled out his handgun, clicking the safety off. He walked to the door and asked, "Who is it?"

Hearing Zhang Yi’s voice, Zhou Peng quickly signaled to Fang Yuqing and Lin Caining to get ready. It was the first time these two women had been involved in such a murderous scheme, and they were quite nervous. However, the thought of killing Zhang Yi and moving into his warm, comfortable home filled with food instantly steeled their resolve.

Zhou Peng said, "Zhang Yi, it’s Zhou Peng. We’ve run out of food at home. For the sake of our time working together, could you spare us some?"

He wore a pleading expression, but his hand quietly dropped, ready to draw his knife at any moment.

Leaning against the door, Zhang Yi replied flatly, "We don’t have any food left here either. I’m afraid I can’t help you with that."

Fang Yuqing and Lin Caining cursed silently. *You have no food? Are those seven or eight boxes in the kitchen filled with dried scallops and abalone all fake?*

But they had prepared for this possibility. Zhou Peng gritted his teeth and pulled a box of medicine from his pocket. "Zhang Yi, I’m not asking for a handout! I’ll trade you a box of Ibuprofen for it."

In the freezing cold, many people were suffering from colds and fevers. Under these circumstances, medicine could save lives; its value was no less than that of food. Zhou Peng had brought out his prized stash of Ibuprofen to lure Zhang Yi into opening the door.

Behind the door, Zhang Yi was considering how to deal with them. Kill them? That would be simple; a gun or a crossbow would do the job. But just killing them outright was too boring. In this apocalypse, death was a release; it was living that was the true hell. He certainly wouldn't let these lowlifes off easy.

After a moment of thought, an idea struck him. He walked over to the trash can and pulled out an empty sports drink bottle. He had just finished several cans of beer, and the urge to relieve himself had built up. He aimed at the bottle opening and let it flow.

"Ibuprofen? That’s not bad. Let me think about it." Zhang Yi chatted lazily with Zhou Peng while he filled the bottle.

Outside the door, the group heard a faint splashing sound but had no idea what Zhang Yi was doing. Hearing that he seemed interested, excitement lit up their faces.

Zhou Peng quickly urged, "Yes, exactly! Just open the door and we can trade. I’m not asking for much—two packs of instant noodles will do!"

By the current standards of the apartment complex, a box of Ibuprofen could easily fetch five packs of noodles. Zhou Peng intentionally offered a low price to trick Zhang Yi into opening the door.

"Two packs of instant noodles? I’d feel terrible taking advantage of you like that." Zhang Yi finished his business. In his hand was now a bottle of iced tea, filled to the brim and topped with white froth.

Thinking Zhang Yi was about to take the bait, Zhou Peng leaned against the door and said, "It’s fine! I’m starving, and since we’re colleagues, it’s better you have it than someone else. Hurry up and open the door!"

Zhang Yi stepped onto a stool, climbed up to the peephole, and poured the fresh, steaming "iced tea" down onto the three people outside.

The sudden deluge caught them off guard. Fang Yuqing and Lin Caining shrieked.

"Ah! What is this!"

"Hey, it’s hot water! It’s still steaming!"

Feeling the warmth, they were briefly relieved—until, a second later, they caught the pungent, unmistakable stench.

"This... this is urine!!!!"

"AH!!!!"

Soaked in waste, the two women let out blood-curdling screams and dropped to the ground, retching uncontrollably. Zhou Peng’s eyes turned red with rage. He pounded on the door. "Zhang Yi, you son of a b*tch! Get out here, I’m going to kill you!"

But the heavy alloy door didn't budge, and the force of his blows only left his hands throbbing in pain. From inside the room, Zhang Yi’s hearty laughter echoed.

"How does my urine taste? Good, right?"

"You bunch of idiots, trying to scam me. Do you even think you’re worthy?"

The group realized they had been exposed. Furious and humiliated, they stood outside and began to curse at him. Zhou Peng roared, "Damn it! I shouldn't have wasted time talking to you! Just wait, once I get in there, I’m going to kill you!"

He stopped pretending, pulled a kitchen knife from his clothes, and slashed at the door with everything he had.

Standard doors were made of wood, and destroying the lock would usually allow one to force entry. But Zhang Yi’s door was forged from a single piece of heavy-duty alloy, capable of withstanding a rocket-propelled grenade.

Zhou Peng’s strike was like hitting a steel plate. The door didn't vibrate, but the massive recoil sent his knife flying out of his hand. The blade grazed past his head, leaving a long gash, and the shock caused the webbing between his thumb and index finger to bleed profusely.

A biological fact: human skin is more fragile in winter, and the sensation of pain is far more intense. Zhou Peng was paralyzed with shock; if the knife had been a fraction of an inch closer, it would have sliced right into his face. The shock was quickly replaced by a wave of agonizing pain.

"AAAAHHHH!!!!" Zhou Peng wailed.

Seeing this, the two women were gripped by such terror that they abandoned Zhou Peng and scrambled away.

Inside, Zhang Yi watched it all, weighing his handgun in his palm, debating whether to go out and put a bullet in each of them. Even if he didn't kill them, at least wounding them would make their lives in this frozen apocalypse a living hell.

After a moment, he abandoned the idea. Why? Because there were three rabid dogs out there. Even though he had a high chance of injuring them, there was still a non-zero chance of a struggle. He would never gamble with his own safety. That’s right—he was the king of caution.

Life was too comfortable to let petty emotions ruin it. "No matter. I’ll just wait here and let them wither away. Let’s see how long they last in this apocalypse."

Zhang Yi, calm and collected, returned to his sofa to continue playing his game.

Back at their own home, Zhou Peng sat on the sofa, shivering uncontrollably. He was still reeling from the narrow escape. When Fang Yuqing saw the urine dripping from his clothes onto her sofa, she let out a sharp shriek: "Ah! Get away! Who told you to sit on my sofa!"