A Challenge from Justice

At the safehouse meeting, dozens of refugees stood trembling on both sides of the hall.  

I sat in the center of the leather sofa, with my entire body submerged in the shadows.  

Avery stood right by my side, her head slightly lowered. The swelling on her cheeks had receded, replaced by a bloodless transparency.  

Her right hand rested casually on my sofa armrest, her fingertips occasionally brushing against my sleeve as if to confirm my presence.  

Julian stood at the very front of the civilian group.  

His right hand was suspended from his neck with a bandage, but his face bore an expression of pity as if victory was already within his grasp.  

These past few days, he had been secretly rallying the refugees.  

In the eyes of these foolish parasites, I was the one who deprived them of their right to survive, while Julian was the only Messiah who could lead them to a way out.  

Even though I protected everyone using my own house and supplies, as long as Julian brought up Avery, the crowd would still fill with righteous indignation.  

Perhaps in his view, he had successfully incited extreme dissatisfaction among the civilians against me inside the shelter.  

And I would soon be completely marginalized.  

But none of that mattered.  

As long as I could complete the system missions—wherever I am, that place is the safe zone.  

"Everyone, in view of the current rate of resource consumption, I have decided to make major adjustments to the rules of the safehouse."  

I sneered and slammed my dagger heavily onto the table, making a sharp, muffled thud.  

"From today onward, those who have no utility value will no longer enjoy core supply rations. Especially you, Avery. Our engagement ends here. You are not qualified to be my fiancée. I will be marrying the young mistress of the 'Red Scorpion Gang,' who controls the armaments resources of the North District."  

The moment these words were spoken, the hall erupted instantly into chaos.  

The angry low growls and desperate gasps of the refugees intertwined, and several search team members who had gone through life and death with Avery even placed their hands on their gun grips.  

A flash of wild ecstasy crossed Julian's eyes. He had waited for this opportunity for far too long.  

He immediately took a step forward, blocking the expressionless Avery, and looked straight at me with an air of righteous severity:  

"Cole, you are courting death! Since you are heartless, don't blame us for being unjust. Avery, stand on the side of justice! Stop wasting time with this selfish, villainous young master. I just received intelligence that the underground warehouse of the golf course contains three full truckloads of top-tier medical supplies and uncontaminated water. As long as you bring your people and come with me, we don't need to depend on this piece of garbage! Anyway, a useless coward like Cole who only huddles in the safehouse won't have the guts to go out."  

I keenly captured the flash of sinister malice in the depths of Julian's eyes.  

He did not seem to be out to save people; over these past few days, although he went out with the exploration team every day, his clothes didn't even have a single wrinkle.  

This certainly didn't look like someone who had been in combat.  

Sitting at the head of the table, I looked down upon him.  

"Fine, Julian." I pulled out the dagger from the table and flipped it around my fingertips.  

"Since you have such guts, then I will also join tomorrow's search operation. Let's see who can bring that batch of goods back."  

 Julian sneered repeatedly: "If the young master wishes to go to his death, we could not ask for more."  

Late at night on the eve of departure.  

Standing in a dark corner of the safehouse, I saw Avery sitting alone in the stairwell.  

She was gripping a tub of melted, stain-covered vanilla ice cream tightly in her hands, her fingernails digging deep into the cardboard carton, even drawing blood.  

"Cole... Cole..."  

In a hoarse voice, she murmured my name over and over again. Her fingertips, stained with her own blood, neurotically traced those two characters stroke by stroke onto the skin of her thigh.  

"Disobedient little dogs... are meant to be locked up."  

She laughed softly, a smile that appeared exceptionally frenzied in the darkness, "If I freeze every single bone in your body to pieces... you'll never be able to run away again, right?"  

Standing in the shadows, I looked at her near-morbid appearance, a cold gleam flashing across my eyes.  

That golf course was the largest zombie congregation area in the early stages of the original book.  

Julian's so-called "medical supplies" were nothing more than a death trap targeted at me.  

But what he didn't know was that I was also waiting for this exact opportunity.

The opportunity to strike down the foe.