Chapter 12: A New Wave of Corpses, A New Protagonist

Before this man, Qiao Jia had never laid a hand on any survivor. To be honest, she had slaughtered countless zombies before, but the terror she instilled in the survivors by killing a single human far surpassed that. When she dispatched zombies, the survivors merely felt that Qiao Jia was monstrously powerful—someone not to be provoked. Yet now, after taking a human life, she truly inspired fear in their hearts. If Qiao Jia could kill this man, she could just as easily kill them.

The survivors stood as if their throats had been gripped, unable to utter a sound.

“Do you need anything?” Qiao Jia reached out and wiped the blood from her face with the back of her hand. Instead of cleaning it, her gesture only smeared the blood further. She looked up at a survivor frozen in place, one who had been about to purchase a mystery box, and posed her question.

The survivor couldn’t speak at all. Meeting Qiao Jia’s emotionless gaze, he felt as if he’d been frozen solid.

A corpse still lay in front of the mystery box stall—Qiao Jia had killed just now as casually as swatting a mosquito. Killing, to her, was a trivial affair.

“Buying a mystery box?” Qiao Jia pressed.

Should he buy, or not? His face and body were more rigid than Qiao Jia’s own, who had just taken a life.

“Buy... buy... I’ll buy a mystery box,” the survivor stammered, handing over his crystal core, terrified that Qiao Jia might lash out and kill him too. He tried to recall if he’d ever offended the shopkeeper.

Qiao Jia nodded, taking the crystal core, inadvertently smearing some blood onto his hand. The survivor trembled even harder.

“Don’t be afraid, I don’t eat people,” Qiao Jia glanced at him, her face stained with blood.

If the survivor had a handkerchief at that moment, he would surely have bitten it and sobbed. She might not eat people, but she certainly killed them!

So far, within the boundaries of Qiao Jia’s territory, there had been no murders—not humans killing humans, at least. Zombie attacks were commonplace, but this was the first murder committed by a person.

Clutching his mystery box, the survivor managed a smile more pitiful than a cry. Even knowing the victim was a troublemaking thug, the ordinary survivors could not help but feel instinctive dread.

Qiao Jia withdrew her gaze, unconcerned with their opinions. Their thoughts didn’t matter.

The system returned with a large bucket of water, its metal pail clanging. It had scavenged plenty of supplies when Qiao Jia was searching for a place to settle. Wringing out a rag, Qiao Jia began to clean the blood from the mystery box stall with strange, methodical movements.

When the five-person group and Shen Tong emerged, they witnessed this scene: Qiao Jia crouched behind her stall, attempting to deal with the corpse by stuffing it underneath the stall to avoid disrupting business.

She couldn't toss the body in the woods—they were meant for habitation. Nor could she throw it in the river, as that would pollute the water. Across the road was an option, but it was far and might attract zombies.

“Landlady, what are you doing?” San’er asked curiously, watching Qiao Jia’s actions.

“Handling a corpse,” Qiao Jia replied with perfect composure. The system’s store couldn’t recycle bodies, and for the moment, she couldn’t think of a better solution. Death brought its own inconveniences—sometimes, one’s mind simply didn’t work.

“A corpse?” San’er looked down, his gaze landing on the head of the deceased. “Isn’t this Jia Luren from Beichen?” His eyes widened in shock. So the old dog of Beichen Base had even sent someone to follow them!

It only took a moment for San’er’s living brain to piece it together. The old dog’s two groups—one ignored his orders, the other was slain outright by the mysterious owner of the mystery box stall.

“Beichen Base?” Qiao Jia finally managed to shove the corpse under the cart, dusted off her hands, and looked at San’er.

“Yes! He must have been sent by Beichen Base to cause you trouble,” San’er nodded quickly, eager to cast aspersions on the Beichen Base leader.

“Aren’t you too?” Qiao Jia tilted her head, honesty in her voice.

San’er’s spine chilled instantly—so the landlady had known all along!

She was truly terrifying.

“Landlady, though we were sent by Beichen Base, we’ve severed ties with BC District,” San’er explained. “Beichen’s leader pretended he'd help us rescue relatives in Jumu City, but he only sent people to linger around the outskirts—never truly entering the city!”

The fox-faced Xiao Er spoke up, clarifying everything. They had indeed cut ties with BC District—unilaterally, without needing the base leader’s consent.

Qiao Jia acknowledged him. She didn’t care about Beichen Base’s leader targeting her. Whoever helped her earn points was a good person in her book. Yet the mention of Jumu City piqued her interest. Perhaps she should open a few low-durability weapon mystery boxes later—at cost, the odds of hitting a rare item made it worthwhile.

As Qiao Jia pondered this, a sudden chorus of zombie howls interrupted her thoughts.

A horde.

She watched the advancing shadowy mass of zombies, and the word surfaced in her mind. Glancing back at Shen Tong and the five-person group, she knew hordes didn’t appear without reason. In her experience, zombie hordes always accompanied the arrival of major characters—protagonists, male leads, or important supporting roles.

Shen Tong was the true heiress, her family the vicious real kin and the false heiress. The five-person group resembled the male lead and his entourage from a typical apocalypse novel—secondary and tertiary male leads.

So, what kind of character would this new arrival be?

Qiao Jia soon found out. At the front of the fleeing crowd, a woman with delicate, innocent looks suddenly stumbled and fell. Qiao Jia wondered if she’d see the domineering CEO and his fragile wife from old romance novels. Sure enough, in the next moment, the leader—a towering man radiating authority—pushed a visibly pregnant woman to the ground, then dragged the innocent-looking woman away without a backward glance.

“Su Xiaoran, this is what you owe Qianqian!” he shouted at the woman writhing in pain, clutching her belly.

Qiao Jia was baffled, astonished.

Since when did malice come so brazenly justified?