Zhao Kun and his crew headed downstairs, running into a few zombies along the way. They dispatched them without breaking stride.

Reaching the ground floor, Zhao Kun glanced back at the massive crowd trailing behind them. His brow furrowed, but he said nothing and kept moving.

They cut through several dormitory buildings and soon reached a landscaped green belt. Not far off, a cluster of zombies circled a concealed speaker with confused, tilted heads-hearing human voices but finding no one to tear apart.

Zhao Kun flashed a hand signal and led the group around the other side.

The followers hurried after them. They knew the danger. Every one of them held their breath, not daring to make a sound.

But large groups always bred accidents.

Someone was following too close. A heel got clipped. The person in front stumbled and went down, and several others tripped over them in a chain reaction.

"Damn it!"

Zhao Kun cursed under his breath.

Sure enough-over a dozen pairs of blood-red eyes snapped toward them in unison. Then the zombies surged forward, excited.

The crowd panicked instantly. Some bolted in random directions.

"Everyone freeze! Anyone who runs, I'll kill them myself!" Zhao Kun roared.

"Weapons out. Get ready to fight!"

Having been through real combat, Zhao Kun, Old Hei, and Skinny Monkey didn't flinch. Iron pipes appeared in their hands immediately.

The others flinched at his threat, but seeing the three already in fighting stance, they forced their fear down.

Fifty-plus people against a dozen zombies. The numbers were on their side.

The zombies closed the distance fast. Zhao Kun's trio struck first-iron pipes driving straight into the lead zombies' throats.

Experience showed. All three punched clean through a neck on the first thrust.

The rest weren't so practiced. Their weapons were a mess-random pipes, broom handles, chair legs, whatever they'd grabbed.

The most infuriating part? Some of them carried no weapons at all. They had backpacks on their shoulders and laptops clutched in their hands.

The zombies crashed into the group. Some people swung immediately. Others froze, legs buckling.

Fierce as lions behind a keyboard. Gutless when the dead came running.

Still, numbers won out. With Zhao Kun's trio anchoring the fight, the dozen-plus zombies were put down.

But it wasn't clean. Six people had been bitten.

Zhao Kun looked at their wounds, his expression hard. "You either walk away on your own, or I put you down right now."

"No! There has to be a way-I won't turn! I won't!" They were shaking, terrified.

"Please, there has to be something-don't abandon us!"

But the people who'd just fought beside them were already backing away.

"You should go on your own. At least keep some dignity."

"No-you can't do this! We're in this together! Didn't we all agree to go to the cafeteria?!"

No one moved. They stared at the bitten like they were looking at plague carriers.

Minutes later, the skin on their faces began to rot. Their expressions twisted in agony. Their eyes bled red, slowly, irreversibly.

Everyone recoiled.

Then Zhao Kun's trio moved. Three iron pipes punched through three throats in a single breath. The remaining bitten dropped a heartbeat later.

The onlookers went pale. No one said a word. No one dared.

"If you want to reach the cafeteria alive, stay sharp. Pull that shit again, and I'll put the pipe through you next."

Zhao Kun spat the words and turned back toward the cafeteria.

The rest of the journey was quiet. A stray zombie here and there-Zhao Kun's trio handled them without slowing.

But as they neared the cafeteria, they ran into something else entirely.

A mob of students was sprinting toward them-pursued by a horde. The zombie count was staggering. A hundred at least.

Zhao Kun's face drained of color.

"Fall back!"

But the fleeing group had already spotted them. Eyes lit up like they'd found salvation, and they changed course, charging straight at Zhao Kun's people.

"Help us!"

"Please-classmates! Save us! There's so many!"

"Fuck!" Zhao Kun swore, then turned to Old Hei and Skinny Monkey. "Run. Nothing we can do."

The three bolted. The rest of the crowd followed instantly, and behind them all, a tide of zombies surged forward.

"What do we do, Brother Kun?! We can't outrun them!" Old Hei's voice cracked as the horde closed in.

"The Library-go!"

Zhao Kun cut hard to the left, sprinting toward the Library.

Everyone followed. He was the only lifeline they had.

The group tore across campus toward the Library. Scattered zombies appeared along the route, but only a few-Zhao Kun and his crew smashed them aside without stopping.

They reached the Library doors.

Locked.

"Smash it open!"

Zhao Kun's iron pipe hammered the lock. The metal held. He hit it again. Again. The lock was industrial-grade, built to last.

Old Hei and Skinny Monkey threw themselves in, swinging alongside him.

"AHHH-help me!"

Screams erupted from the rear. The horde had caught the stragglers.

"Hurry up!"

The crowd pressed in, frantic.

"Stop screaming and come help!" Zhao Kun bellowed.

"R-right!"

A dozen pipes and improvised weapons joined the assault on the lock. Finally, with a sharp crack, it gave.

Zhao Kun wrenched the door open. Bodies poured through, striving to be first, shoving and stumbling over each other to get inside.

When most were through, Zhao Kun looked back. A handful of people were still out there-zombies dragging them down, clawing at their legs.

He slammed the doors shut.

"Tables! Brace it-now!" he shouted.

"O-okay!"

People scrambled, dragging reading tables across the floor and jamming them against the entrance.

The doors shuddered. Bang. Bang. Bang.

"Open the door! You can't do this-we're still out here! This is murder!"

"Please-open it! I don't want to die!"

The screaming outside was raw, desperate. Inside, faces twisted with guilt. Eyes dropped to the floor.

No one said to open the door.

Everyone chose silence. Between their own lives and saving others, every single person chose themselves.

The screams faded. Slowly. One by one. Until there was nothing.

Inside the Library, just over thirty people remained.

Twenty-plus lost in a single trip. Despair settled over the survivors like a physical weight.

And they still hadn't reached the cafeteria. That was the worst part.

The Library had no food. If anything, it was less comfortable than the dorms they'd left behind.

Regret hit like a wave. If they'd known, they never would have stepped outside.

Zhao Kun, Old Hei, and Skinny Monkey stood apart, faces grim. None of them had expected this.

"Brother Kun... what now?" Skinny Monkey's voice was low.

"No idea. Wait and see if the horde moves on."

"Fucking hell," Old Hei muttered. "Just our luck."

"It's not luck." Zhao Kun's jaw tightened. "It's us."

"What do you mean?"

"If Yang Bin were here, he never would've let those people follow."

"......"