A few months ago, Zhou Xiaoxiao wasn’t just a survivor covered in grime. She was royalty in waiting.

As the younger sister of the A-list celebrity Zhou Lan, she had been born into the spotlight. But she had more than just nepotism on her side; she had the look. If Zhou Lan was the elegant, mature queen of the silver screen, Xiaoxiao was the vibrant, energetic princess of the pop world.

Before she had even signed a contract, agencies were fighting a blood war over her. Top-tier endorsements were lined up. The entertainment industry wasn’t just waiting for her debut; it was salivating.

She was destined for the top. She believed it. Everyone believed it.

But destiny has a cruel sense of humor.

The city fell overnight.

Civilization didn’t just crumble; it evaporated. While the sisters were on set filming a blockbuster debut, the screams began. Within hours, the entire crew—makeup artists, directors, co-stars—were dead. The studio lot became a slaughterhouse.

Through a mix of sheer luck and desperation, the sisters escaped the city and found the convoy.

At first, Xiaoxiao clung to hope. The army will come. Order will be restored. But as the weeks dragged on, hope turned into a liability. The world hadn’t just changed; it had reverted to the Stone Age.

To survive, Xiaoxiao murdered her old self.

She hacked off her long, idol-style hair. She traded her designer skirts for scavenged cargo pants. She smeared mud and ash over her porcelain skin, hiding her beauty like a shameful secret. She learned to walk, talk, and act like a boy.

Dignity wasn’t given anymore. It had to be earned.

While other survivors huddled in the trucks, terrified to step outside, the Zhou sisters forced themselves to scavenge. They faced death in every ruined village, fighting for every scrap of food. They lived better than the others because they worked harder. They relied on no one but themselves.

Until that one mistake.

Xiaoxiao remembered the gasoline. A full jerrycan of fuel—liquid gold in this wasteland. They had nearly died getting it. And then, her sister had foolishly gifted it to a newly awakened Sequence Beyonder.

Chen Ye.

Xiaoxiao had been furious. He was just a mechanic, a “Support Class.” In her eyes, he was dead weight. She had marched over, berated him, and taken the gasoline back. She had burned that bridge with napalm.

She had spent days looking over her shoulder, fearing retaliation. But Chen Ye had done nothing. He had just watched them with those cold, indifferent eyes.

Now, standing in the blood-soaked square of Longevity Village, regret tasted like bile in her throat.

Death was everywhere. The air stank of rot and fear.

The two “combat” Sequence Beyonders, Iron Lion and Xu Lina, were engaged in a desperate melee near the Great Willow, completely swarmed. They couldn’t spare a glance for the fodder.

But Chen Ye?

The “useless support” was holding his ground. His Hand Crossbow was a metronome of death. Thwip. Thwip. Thwip. Every bolt pushed the Corpse Thralls back. He wasn’t just surviving; he was controlling his space.

If they had honored that deal… if she hadn’t taken the gas back… they would be standing in that safe zone right now.

“There is no cure for regret,” she whispered to herself.

But survival instinct overrode shame. She grabbed her sister’s arm.

“We have to get to him,” Xiaoxiao hissed. “He’s our only chance.”

It wasn’t just the sisters. Granny Zhao had done the math too.

The old woman watched Chen Ye drop a Thrall with a bolt to the skull. She saw the safety radius around him. While Iron Lion and Xu Lina were drawing the main aggro, a few stragglers were leaking through toward the civilians.

Chen Ye was moving with machine-like efficiency. His reload speed was incredible, born from countless hours of practice during the convoy’s downtime.

Click. Snap. Aim.

A Thrall lunged, rotting jaws snapping.

Thwip.

The bolt caught it in the forehead. White smoke hissed as the Black Dog Blood burned the undead flesh. The creature howled and staggered back.

Chen Ye didn’t even blink. He reached for another bolt.

But the horde was relentless. They swarmed like moths to a flame.

The other survivors were useless. They swung rusted pipes and rebar, but their blows bounced off the Thralls’ toughened skin like they were scratching an itch.

Granny Zhao saw her opening. She moved with the explosive speed of a pensioner spotting a 90% off sale at the supermarket. Before anyone else could react, she sprinted toward Chen Ye.

She didn’t stand beside him. She darted behind him.

She cowered in his shadow, using his body as a human shield against the approaching monsters. He’s young. He’s strong. He should protect the elderly, she justified internally, a smug satisfaction rising in her chest.

Then, Chen Ye’s reload snagged.

A split-second delay. A Thrall broke through the perimeter, lunging straight for him.

Chen Ye didn’t panic. He didn’t try to dodge.

He reached back.

Granny Zhao felt a large, iron-grip hand clamp onto the back of her neck.

What is he doing?

She didn’t have time to ask. Chen Ye didn’t shove her; he threw her.

With a calm, calculated motion, he hurled the old woman directly into the path of the lunging Thrall.

Granny Zhao stumbled forward, her eyes widening as she found herself face-to-face with a rotting, maggot-ridden visage. The Thrall, distracted by the fresh meat offering, changed targets instantly.

“You…”

The betrayal shattered her mind. How dare he? I am an elder! Where is the respect? Where is the morality?

She never finished the thought. Two more Thralls descended on her.

“AHHHH!”

The scream was wet and gurgling. The agile old woman was torn apart in seconds, leaving nothing but a smear of crimson on the dusty ground.

The other survivors froze, their blood running cold.

They stared at Chen Ye with horror.

He… he just fed her to them.

It wasn’t an accident. It was a tactical sacrifice. He needed space to reload. She was in the way. He used her to buy two seconds of time.

Chen Ye finished reloading. Thwip. He put a bolt through the eye of the Thrall that was eating the grandmother.

He felt zero guilt. In his mind, she had tried to use him as a shield; he had simply reversed the roles. Fair trade.

Zhou Xiaoxiao, who had been dragging her sister toward him, skidded to a halt.

She stared at the young mechanic. His face was a mask of indifference. He looked at the mangled remains of the old woman with the same emotion one would show a discarded wrapper.

He is a monster, she thought, fear gripping her heart.

She hesitated.

And in the apocalypse, hesitation is death.

“Xiaoxiao!”

The scream tore her attention back.

While Xiaoxiao had frozen, a Corpse Thrall had bypassed her and tackled Zhou Lan. The superstar hit the ground hard, the rotting creature straddling her, jaws snapping inches from her throat.

“NO!”

Xiaoxiao spun around, but she was too far. Her weapon was useless.

She looked back at the cold-blooded mechanic, desperation crushing her pride, her fear, and her hesitation.

“Chen Ye!” she screamed, her voice breaking. “Save my sister!”