Chapter 40: The Sound of Gunfire

Zhang Yi ignited the stink bomb and quickly tossed it through the firing port above the door. Once the device hit the floor, it immediately erupted into a thick plume of black smoke. A pungent, nauseating odor rapidly permeated the hallway. Upon catching a whiff, Fang Yuqing and Lin Caining felt as though someone had cracked open a container of decade-old sewage, and they began to retch violently on the spot.

"Ugh... what is that? Ugh..."
"Zhang Yi, ugh... you are so shameless!"

As the stench in the hallway intensified, the two women scrambled to escape. Zhang Yi, however, was not worried about the smell seeping back into his apartment; after closing the firing port, his home became a semi-sealed environment. While the air still circulated, the apartment had been specially constructed with a high-end filtration system that prevented any foul odors or hazardous air from entering. Watching the two women retreat in a disheveled, gagging frenzy via his security monitors, Zhang Yi burst into a hearty laugh.

However, he soon received a complaint from his next-door neighbor. "Zhang Yi, what is that stuff you threw out your door? It reeks! Could you please have some consideration for your neighbors?"

Zhang Yi’s neighbors were a young couple who had moved in about two years ago. In truth, he had never had much interaction with them, rarely doing more than nodding when they crossed paths in the elevator. In these times, he had no interest in maintaining neighborly relations. In the apocalypse, every action he took was solely for his own safety; he couldn't care less about the plight of others. In fact, he was prepared to eliminate anyone without a shred of hesitation if it meant ensuring his own safety and comfort. In the end-times, any trace of a "saintly" mindset was a weakness that had to be strangled in the cradle.

"If you don't like it, come over and fight me!" After saying this, Zhang Yi promptly blocked the neighbor. Again, he had no patience for bickering; it was a waste of breath. Shortly after, he noticed the neighbor venting their frustration in the building's main group chat. But unfortunately for them, no one else had the luxury of caring about their petty grievances. Zhang Yi chuckled to himself—living without morality was surprisingly satisfying.

...

That afternoon, Zhang Yi was suddenly jolted awake from his sleep.

"Bang!"

A deafening roar echoed through the hallway and reverberated throughout the entire unit building. Zhang Yi’s expression turned grim; the sound was unmistakably a gunshot. Someone in their apartment complex actually possessed a firearm?

Zhang Yi wasn't entirely certain if it had been a gun or a firecracker, so he hurried to the living room to check the security monitors. The scene that met his eyes caused his pupils to constrict. In front of the third-floor apartment, Chen Zhenghao, who walked with a limp, held a black handgun in his hand. The cold, dark glint of the weapon was enough to make anyone’s spirit tremble. The door to the apartment was wide open, and from the camera's angle, one could faintly discern a pair of human legs on the floor. Meanwhile, Chen Zhenghao’s lackeys were busy hauling out food, candles, and other supplies, grinning as they exited.

Clearly, the resident of the third floor was either dead or, if still alive, doomed—having taken a bullet and lost all his supplies, he wouldn't last long. It was 10:00 AM, the time when most households would venture out to gather snow to melt for drinking water. Since everyone was out, the collective body heat kept the hallway slightly warmer. Because no one could survive without water, this activity was performed daily. Chen Zhenghao had seized this exact moment to strike, kill, and plunder.

"Ding-dong!"

His phone chimed. Zhang Yi picked it up and took a look; it was a message in the main group chat. Chen Zhenghao had sent a voice note.

"The heavy snow has sealed the city. None of us can rely on anyone else; we have to look out for ourselves. I, Chen Zhenghao, am taking responsibility as the building captain of Block 25. From now on, I decide how things are run here! Obey me, and I’ll let you live comfortably. But if anyone dares to step out of line, well, heh-heh!"

Immediately following the audio, Chen Zhenghao sent two photos. One was of the gun in his hand, and the other was a graphic image of the third-floor resident lying in a pool of blood. The group chat, usually buzzing with constant chatter, fell into an eerie silence. Everyone was stunned by the bloody and brutal reality.

Most of the residents were undoubtedly filled with terror. In the peaceful era, when had they ever witnessed such a scene? They couldn't even have imagined it. Yet, the bloody reality was now laid bare before them. In this unit building, sealed away by the blizzard, other people were hell. No one dared to speak up or challenge Chen Zhenghao; everyone was afraid to die.

Zhang Yi lay on the sofa and couldn't help but remark, "Chen Zhenghao is clever. He’s truly worthy of someone who’s made his way up in the world."

Chen Zhenghao was using a mix of carrots and sticks; he hadn't relied solely on intimidation. Because he only had one gun, no one knew for sure how many bullets he had left. Zhang Yi knew, however, that the count couldn't be high, as firearms were strictly controlled in the country. Even when Zhang Yi himself had spent a fortune to acquire one, he had only been able to secure 100 rounds. Furthermore, Chen Zhenghao only had five or six lackeys. With fifty households and over a hundred people in the building, if they were truly pushed to the brink, a cripple like him couldn't hold them back. Thus, combining threats with empty promises was the most effective way to keep the residents in line.

Human nature is defined by a fear of death. Even if they understood that Chen Zhenghao could kill the third-floor resident today and come for them tomorrow, they still clung to the hope that it wouldn't be their turn. Those on the higher floors, for instance, might think that since Chen was cleaning out the third and fourth floors, he wouldn't reach them for weeks. They convinced themselves they didn't need to risk their lives, assuming that surely someone else down below would stand up and resist.

By that same logic, those on the fourth floor assumed that since Chen wasn't necessarily killing in order, they would be the ones to die if they resisted, so it was better to cower in their homes and hope someone else perished first.

Zhang Yi shrugged; none of this had anything to do with him. While the others were too afraid to resist Chen Zhenghao, he simply didn't fear him at all. If Chen Zhenghao dared to show his face at his doorstep, his life would be entirely in Zhang Yi’s hands. As for whether the other neighbors lived or died, it meant absolutely nothing to him. They were choosing to be ostriches, refusing to fight back. Zhang Yi had no interest in playing the saint, sacrificing himself to save others.

Just then, his phone began to ping rapidly with a constant "ding-dong, ding-dong." Zhang Yi picked it up to see that hundreds of new messages had flooded in! He realized he had been added to a new group. Out of curiosity, he entered the chat and discovered that the residents had formed a new group, excluding Chen Zhenghao and his thugs. It seemed the death threat from Chen had finally spurred some of them to consider banding together for survival.

Zhang Yi said nothing. His own safety was guaranteed, after all. He simply wanted to watch and see what this group of people would do.