The Apocalypse Solution Provider

Chapter 16: A Blade Hanging Over the Neck

“Director Li, how do we rehabilitate her?” Zhang Wan asked immediately, patting Fu Qingdai’s shoulder.

Su Jin held her gaze. “The rehabilitation itself is simple. But before we get to the solution, we need to address the root. For a teenager, a psychological fracture of this magnitude isn’t just a byproduct of schoolyard bullying. It’s also because of you two.”

“Your behavior just now? You were actively compounding her trauma.”

“Ah?” Zhang Wan bristled, momentarily defensive. “Kids these days are just too fragile. Back in our day—”

“That exact sentence is part of the problem.”

“…”

Su Jin sighed heavily. “The great philosopher Vladimir Xukun once posited that there is only one truly serious philosophical problem: suicide. Humans are biological machines that require meaning to function.”

Fu Hu and his wife hung onto his every word.

“Her school environment already stripped away her will to live. Coming home to parents who fundamentally misunderstand her only accelerates the downward spiral. Left unchecked, this manifests as severe suicidal ideation and auditory hallucinations. Assuming she hasn’t started hallucinating yet, the damage is still reversible. You need to start therapy immediately and cease all psychological triggers.”

“She’s already having hallucinations, Director Li! What do we do?! When can she go back to class?” Zhang Wan panicked, the color draining from Fu Hu’s face as well.

“Wuuuu—!” Fu Qingdai let out a wail that sounded like a malfunctioning fire alarm.

“Could you permanently drop the subject of school?” Su Jin shot Zhang Wan an icy glare. “Do you realize how much latent damage you’re inflicting? The girl is hallucinating, and you’re worried about her attendance record? Longshan City barely has a handful of clinical psychologists qualified to handle a fracture this deep. The domestic infrastructure for this is practically nonexistent.”

“Then… do you have anyone you can recommend?” Fu Hu swallowed hard.

“I just rotated back to Longshan. I’m not familiar with the local medical roster,” Su Jin said, shaking his head. “My old mentor could have handled it, but unfortunately, he passed away last year.”

“Could you treat her?!” Zhang Wan blurted out.

“Shut your mouth! Director Li is a federal official, not a clinic doctor! You think he has time for house calls?” Fu Hu barked, before turning back with a pleading look. “But… Director Li, could you point us in the right direction? Tell us what protocol to follow?”

“Protocol… this isn’t something I can summarize in a quick briefing,” Su Jin sighed, shifting his tone to sound begrudgingly helpful. “Look, we live across the hall. My days are booked, but my evenings are relatively clear. You can send the kid over to my unit, or I can come here. We’re neighbors now; let’s skip the bureaucratic red tape.”

“Two hours of targeted psychological counseling a night. Give me a week, and she should be stable enough to return to her studies. In her free time, encourage her to engage in athletic activities—like singing and dancing. It’ll drastically accelerate her cognitive recovery.”

“Are you serious?!” Zhang Wan shot up from her chair, vibrating with gratitude. “Thank you so, so much, Director Li! I…”

“Forget Director Li! It’s Bureau Chief Li to you!” Fu Hu leaped up, glaring at his wife before hoisting his cheap liquor glass. “Bureau Chief Li, I offer you this toast. I’m a blunt man, so let the liquor do the talking!”

He tipped his head back and drained the glass in a single, violent gulp.

Fu Qingdai buried her face in her chest, practically dying of secondhand embarrassment.

“Stand down, Old Fu. You can call me Bureau Chief after the promotion goes through next month,” Su Jin chuckled, turning his gaze to Fu Qingdai. “Besides, we require the subject’s consent first, don’t we?”

“Qingdai, are you willing to spare a few hours an evening for a debriefing? Relax, there’s no pressure. We’re just going to chat.”

Fu Qingdai pursed her lips and gave a small nod.

“Then it’s a confirmed op,” Su Jin said, spreading his hands with a warm smile toward the parents. “I’ll initiate the first session tomorrow. For now, let’s just enjoy the meal.”

…

The script had been meticulously drafted, and his targets had walked blindly into the matrix.

Su Jin effortlessly dominated the rest of the dinner conversation. Merely flashing the sleek chassis of his Xiaomi 6 was enough to short-circuit the local bumpkins’ brains.

To make matters even smoother, Fu Qingdai occasionally lobbed pre-scripted questions his way, frantically working to solidify his federal cover story.

As for the inquiries he couldn’t actually answer… there were naturally a few, but his countermeasure was a single, flawless line of defense.

State secret. No comment.

An hour later, the plates were cleared and the liquor was drained.

Su Jin packed up his cinematic props, discreetly pocketed the 231.50 local dollars that Fu Qingdai had successfully embezzled for him, and prepared to extract himself.

Fu Hu stood by the front door, holding it open for him.

His rugged face was flushed a deep, alarming crimson. He wore a sloppy grin, clearly having drowned himself in cheap booze to celebrate his new federal connection.

“Director Li, it was an absolute honor hosting you tonight. Damn… if it weren’t for you pulling my file, I would’ve gone to my grave thinking my discharge was just standard protocol. I had no idea HQ rated me so highly!”

“And for what you’re doing for my daughter… I don’t even know how to repay the debt. If you ever need boots on the ground for anything—anything at all—just give the order!”

Su Jin waved a dismissive hand. “I may need to tap you for a minor logistical favor down the line, but it’s nothing to stress over. Lock down the perimeter. I’m heading out.”

“Hold on, Director Li!” Fu Hu called out suddenly.

“A loose end?”

“Director Li… I…” Fu Hu hesitated, his alcohol-numbed tongue struggling to form the words. “About… the National Bureau…”

He stammered for several agonizing seconds, his pride choking on the word ‘job’.

Su Jin feigned a look of sudden realization, followed by a reassuring smile. “Old Fu, don’t stand on ceremony with me. There’s no shame in wanting to climb the ladder. You’re asking about the logistics position, right?”

Fu Hu nodded, a sheepish look on his flushed face.

The networking was complete! This kid was a bona fide psychological wizard and a federal heavyweight! His credentials were bulletproof.

Even if he was already cashing in on a massive social debt with the free therapy, a ten-thousand federal base salary… he wanted a piece of that pie too.

“I’ll give it to you straight, Old Fu. I have the clearance to authorize the hire, but I can’t give you a 100% guarantee tonight. The main bottleneck is that I’ve been off the grid; I need to review the current departmental vacancies. Let me run it up the flagpole. I’ll have a definitive answer for you by tomorrow. Deal?”

“That’s a deal! Thank you, Director Li! Have a good night!” Fu Hu bowed his head, practically vibrating with gratitude.

Su Jin offered a final salute, and the heavy metal door clicked shut.

He turned on his heel and crossed the short distance to his own unit. He fished his key out, sliding it into the deadbolt.

Through the thin walls behind him, the muffled, ecstatic cheers of the Fu family celebrating their new lease on life bled into the hallway.

The joyful noise felt painfully loud in the sterile corridor.

Click. The cheap motion-sensor light above him timed out, plunging the stairwell into pitch blackness. The only sound left was Su Jin’s ragged, exhausted breathing.

His hand went entirely slack, the keys dangling uselessly from the lock. He slumped forward, resting his forehead against the cold iron door. His eyes slid shut, and a long, shuddering sigh escaped his lungs.

His chest felt hollowed out.

He missed home. Back in his old life, he was the kind of cynical bastard who actively dodged returning for the Lunar New Year.

But right now? He missed it with a visceral, suffocating ache.

He forcefully expelled the stale air from his lungs. Swiping a thumb beneath his eye to catch a stray tear, he twisted the key, pushed the door open, and stepped into his empty apartment.

…

Pitch-black clouds suffocated the city skyline. A biting wind howled through the concrete canyons.

Sheets of freezing rain lashed aggressively against the rotting high-rises.

The streets were a graveyard. The only things moving were the walking dead.

Ruined, festering husks shuffled aimlessly across the cracked asphalt.

Su Jin was crouched behind a rusted dumpster, the hood of his slicker pulled tight as he tracked the horde’s movement patterns.

A wet squelch sounded directly behind him. A Zombie lunged from the blind spot!

Su Jin whipped his head around, met instantly by a rotting, blood-slicked jaw snapping down toward his face.

“Fuck!!”

His eyes bulged with sheer, unadulterated terror and adrenaline. Stripped of all weapons, he unhinged his own jaw and violently lunged forward to bite the Zombie’s face first.

…

“Hrk—!!”

Su Jin violently jolted awake, clutching his own throat. He was gasping for air like a drowning man, his body completely soaked in a cold, clammy sweat.

His throat felt like it was packed with crushed glass.

He peeled himself off the mattress, leaving behind a perfectly outlined, human-shaped sweat stain on the cheap sheets.

He forced himself through a series of tactical breathing exercises. Once his resting heart rate dipped back below panic-attack levels, he viciously scrubbed his hands over his face.

A nightmare. His subconscious was finally cracking under the pressure.

He blindly groped the nightstand to his right, his fingers closing around his logistical planner. He snapped it open.

The grain distributor was making the bulk drop tonight. He still had daylight procurement quotas to hit… but first, he needed to hit the local slaughterhouse for combat conditioning. The rest could be delegated to the afternoon slot.

Faster. He needed to adapt faster. He had to forcibly desensitize his nervous system to the sight and smell of gore before the countdown hit zero.

He could not afford a mental collapse. If his psyche shattered, he was a dead man!

Pounding his chest to reboot his adrenaline, Su Jin lifted his head.

His heavily bloodshot eyes locked onto the makeshift calendar taped to the opposite wall. A brutal line of red Sharpie crosses struck through the days.

Only three days left until the apocalypse.