Ch 185: The Farmer Ger in the Apocalypse

Song Kaiji dragged Suo Binhai to the window.

The building they were in had been a hotel attached to an amusement park before the apocalypse, standing twelve stories high. At this moment, they were on the top floor. Looking down from the window, they could see that the city gates had been opened, and a massive flood of refugees from outside was pouring into the base.

Song Kaiji pulled Suo Binhai over to the window.

Some of the more timid refugees, upon entering the city, immediately sought out hidden corners to crouch in, fearing that the base’s people might suddenly go back on their word and drive them out again.

But most of the refugees had been living in the camp outside, enduring daily starvation and the constant threat of death. Driven by hunger and survival instinct, they seized the opportunity presented by the chaos to desperately search for food.

Some clung to the city’s original residents, pleading with them. These people, who had been living inside the base, were visibly wealthier. The refugees clutched at their pant legs, kneeling on the ground, their mouths uttering all sorts of desperate words—some reasonable, some not—but no matter what, they refused to let go.

Others had already resorted to force, breaking into the tin houses of city residents and looting whatever they could find.

The patrol squads, which would usually arrive in time to handle such situations, were nowhere to be seen—whether they had been caught in the chaos or were even still alive was unknown.

Some of the ability users, whose homes had been invaded, finally lost patience and retaliated. Sparks of electricity and flames lit up the streets as several refugees were struck down. Though injured and lying on the ground howling in pain, they still refused to let go of the food they had just stolen, cursing wildly through their agony.

Still, the display of power managed to deter some of the looters. Those who could afford the city’s entrance fee and rent—those who lived inside Red City Base—were either ability users or physically strong young men unafraid to kill zombies. The starving refugees outside had no way to compete with them. After a brief standoff, the refugees unwillingly backed away, searching for weaker targets.

An old woman and her young granddaughter pressed desperately against the flimsy door of their tin house. The pillar of their family was nowhere to be seen, and the two of them were utterly powerless against the horde of ravenous refugees. The old woman cried out for help, while the little girl sobbed in terror. But their neighbors were too busy fending for themselves to offer any assistance.

From the rooftop, Song Kaiji flicked his hand, sending a blade of wind cutting through the air. By the time it reached the ground from the twelfth floor, its force had been greatly diminished, leaving only a shallow cut on the hand of one of the looters. But it was enough to scare them. They glanced around warily, assuming that the house’s protector had returned, and cursed under their breath before slinking away.

Inside, the grandmother and granddaughter collapsed behind the door, holding each other as they wept.

“You see, your idea wasn’t as great as you thought,” Song Kaiji said, turning to Suo Binhai. “If you really wanted to do a good deed, you should have put in the effort and resources to organize it properly, rather than letting innocent people suffer. Just like how you managed our base so thoroughly—does this look any better than when the officials were in charge?”

Wanting to save as many people as possible without restrictions was a noble idea, but order had to be maintained. Rules had to be set. A city couldn’t just open its gates and let chaos unfold. Even in their own small base, Chen Jiaxi had to exhaust herself screening every newcomer, ensuring they were trustworthy. The previous government had set entry requirements based on zombie-hunting ability and economic status—it had been harsh and inflexible, but at least it had prevented such disorder.

Suo Binhai’s face turned an ugly shade, darker than pig liver. It wasn’t Song Kaiji’s ridicule that embarrassed him—it was the fact that he couldn’t deny the truth. He didn’t want to admit it, but his governance skills were worse than those of the officials he had just killed.

Yet the reality was clear—different people had different strengths. He was good at strategy, at organizing search-and-rescue operations. But when it came to managing a base…

Song Kaiji continued watching the chaos below. Opening the city gates had been planned in advance. It had been part of Shen Qing and Qu Weiwei’s strategy to enter the base. They had expected the situation to play out this way—but they had made no effort to warn or prevent it.

Because it worked in their favor.

Song Kaiji could feel his heart hardening bit by bit. But then again, should someone in Suo Binhai’s position really need others to point out the obvious?

Or had Suo Binhai already foreseen this outcome? Perhaps he simply didn’t care. As long as the coup was successful, he could clean up the mess afterward. The innocent residents and refugees who died in the chaos—he wasn’t particularly concerned about them.

Or perhaps he usually cared, but not enough to prioritize them over seizing power.

Song Kaiji sighed. He had grown up in an era of peace, where he had always trusted the government and the military. It had taken him a long time to realize that the military was the military, Suo Binhai was Suo Binhai, and Shao Nan was Shao Nan.

Now that communication networks had collapsed and the bases across the country were governing themselves without oversight, could Suo Binhai still be considered a representative of the pre-apocalypse military?

No. He was just a man, with emotions, ambitions, and selfish desires. Could every decision he made truly represent the integrity of the military?

Neither side should be putting the weight of their positions onto individuals.

“This coup… were you planning to get rid of us as well?” Song Kaiji asked softly.

They knew too much. Song Kaiji had needed to eliminate the government officials to sow chaos. Meanwhile, Shen Qing and his group had entered the city unimpeded, without any military personnel guiding or stopping them. They had effortlessly seized the grain stores, the armory, and all of the research data from the laboratories.

If Song Kaiji hadn’t taken Suo Binhai hostage, would Red City Base—regardless of who won the power struggle—really have let them leave so easily?

Even if they hadn’t looted the warehouses, would they have been allowed to leave?

Because in the end, there had never been an intention to let them go.

Suo Binhai’s pupils contracted sharply. After three or four seconds of silence, he forced an awkward smile.

“How could that be? You and Shao have such a good relationship, and you’ve helped us so much before. We’re partners—partners.”

“If it’s a partnership, then it’s only fair that we get a share of the spoils, isn’t it?” Song Kaiji said, resting his hand on Suo Binhai’s shoulder. “I’ve done a lot of work for this, and my hands are covered in blood.”

The commotion outside grew louder. Tang Wenjie waved his hand, transforming the solid metal walls into bars, keeping Shao Nan and the military officers locked out.

Outside, Shen Qing and his group had arrived. Hundreds of mid- and high-tier ability users stood in a standoff against the military. Since Suo Binhai was still in Song Kaiji’s hands, the soldiers dared not make a move. Shao Nan’s face alternated between red and white.

“Is there some kind of misunderstanding, Song Kaiji? Let go of the Vice Commander, and we can talk.”

When the apocalypse had first erupted, half the population had immediately turned into zombies. Red City’s original military commander had been among them. With subsequent deaths from infections, starvation, and casualties, the overall losses had reached seventy to eighty percent.

Several vice commanders had also perished, leaving Suo Binhai as the one to rise to the top as Red City Base’s highest military authority. With so many senior officers dead, young officers like Shao Nan had been rapidly promoted, resulting in the current military structure where Suo Binhai held absolute power.

Song Kaiji exchanged a glance with Shen Qing in the crowd. He tightened his grip on Suo Binhai’s shoulder.

“There’s no misunderstanding. Now that everything has settled, it’s time to sit down and discuss how we’ll divide the spoils, don’t you think?”

After clearing out most of the soldiers and ability users, only a small group remained inside: Shen Qing, Song Kaiji, Suo Binhai, Shao Nan, Tang Wenjie, Qu Weiwei, Chen Jiaxi, and two officers loyal to Shao Nan—just enough to maintain balance.

Shao Nan glanced at Suo Binhai and hesitated before ultimately remaining silent.

Shen Qing, however, shook his head.

“We don’t want Red City Base.”

Instead, they wanted everything outside of it—from the amusement park to the airport—to establish their own base, the Twin Cities of Red City.

Of course, if they didn’t want to trade, that was fine too. Shen Qing’s base, thanks to his ability to bring food and essential supplies from another world, had no need to venture far in search of resources. The people in his base only needed to focus on infrastructure and self-sufficiency. Clearing zombies could be done using abilities and crossbows—having guns and ammunition was a bonus, but lacking them wouldn’t render them helpless.

Suo Binhai remained silent, hesitating. The main issue was that Red City Airport was too important. He also didn’t want to see Shen Qing grow too powerful, securing such a vast territory to build a new base. In his plans, after this coup, Shen Qing’s small base was supposed to come under Red City’s control as well…

But Shen Qing had no patience for his dithering and handed the negotiations over to Chen Jiaxi. Meanwhile, Shen Qing and Qu Weiwei turned to the stunned Shao Nan.

They brought Shao Nan to the window as well.

“I eventually understood why you chose the military over us,” Qu Weiwei said. “If I were in your position and had to choose between Shen Qing and you, I would choose Shen Qing without hesitation. But you need to ask yourself—did you choose the military, or did you choose Suo Binhai? And if it’s Suo Binhai, how much do you really know about him?”

They made Shao Nan look at the chaos below. The power struggle between the government, the military, and Shen Qing’s forces was reaching its conclusion. All the key figures were now gathered inside this building. Meanwhile, the streets were filled with conflict between the newly arrived refugees and the original residents—fighting over food, water, clothes, even shelter.

“Is this what your military wanted?”

Some things weren’t beyond Shao Nan’s imagination—he had simply been subconsciously avoiding them. But now, forced by Shen Qing and Qu Weiwei to confront the turmoil below, he clutched his head in pain, trying to block out the sight.

Shen Qing reached out and pulled his hands away.

“The military doesn’t belong to any one person. Before the apocalypse, Suo Binhai wasn’t even the highest-ranking officer of the Red City military district, was he?”

“For ordinary people, what matters is having a stable life. The military that earns the people’s loyalty is the one that protects them. Who holds the title of highest commander isn’t nearly as important as whether they bring stability.”

“You are also from the military—an officer with a rightful background.”

Shao Nan stood there in a daze, when suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream rang out behind them.

He turned sharply, just in time to see Suo Binhai collapse limply to the ground.

Chen Jiaxi stood there, holding a piece of paper, blinking in mild surprise before finally murmuring, “Ah… I was just testing it out. I didn’t expect this either.”

She absently waved the paper in her hand.

“…But he signed the contract.”

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦