Chapter 1

"Cole! What are you standing there for? Go save them!"

Daisy's voice cut through my eardrums like a dull knife, slicing straight into my brain. She stood behind bulletproof glass, pointing at my nose and screaming, her blonde hair whipping around like a broken broom from her agitation: "Those people are going to die! You have abilities, you must save them!"

The echo chamber in the camp responded:

"Cole, don't just watch them die!"

"Your mechanical control is so powerful!"

"Help them, look how pitiful they are!"

Old mechanic Tom leaned on his crutch, nodding with a kind expression: "Kid, stop hesitating. Our camp has always been like this—we help when we can."

Grocery store owner Martha chimed in: "That's right, look how pitiful those people are."

The moment these words drilled into my ears, it felt like someone had clubbed the back of my head with an iron rod, and my vision went black for half a second.

Tinnitus.

Then memories flooded in like a bursting dam, washing my brain to pieces—

I had been reborn.

In my previous life, it all started with these exact words. Everyone ganged up on me, beating me with moral clubs until I charged out. I used [Mechanical Dominion] to control the junkyard's cranes, generators, and scrapped trucks, carving a bloody path through the zombie horde. Those bikers hugged my legs crying, calling me "big brother, our savior" and "we'll never forget this."

The result? My abilities were overexerted, and I was bedridden for a month.

When I opened my eyes, that bald bastard Lucas had already moved his people into the camp's best rooms, the warehouse keys dangling from his waist. The original residents were treated like livestock—slapped when they worked slowly, shoved when supplies were taken. Anyone who dared speak up was dragged out and beaten nearly to death.

I crawled up to confront them, but Daisy stopped me, tears in her eyes: "Cole, you need to touch their hearts with love. You saved them, they'll listen to you."

Tom also said: "Violence only breeds more violence."

Martha nodded along: "You're so kind, you can definitely do it."

I believed those idiots.

I walked up to Lucas, and before I could open my mouth, I was pinned down and beaten savagely. Then that beast had me tied to the back of a motorcycle and dragged for five full kilometers across roads covered with broken glass and scrap metal.

I ended up lying in a pool of blood, watching the sky spin, my body like a piece of meat with the skin scraped off. Daisy stood at the camp gate, covering her mouth: "We tried our best, this really isn't our fault."

She didn't shed a single tear.

Now, it was all about to happen again.

Looking at Daisy's face—that face flushed red with excitement—fire erupted in my chest and burned straight through my skull.

"You're right," I flicked away my cigarette butt and smiled at her, "someone is definitely going to die."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I activated [Mechanical Dominion]. The ability slithered like an ice-cold snake into the hydraulic loading platform beneath Daisy's feet.

"Then why don't you hurry and—ahh!"

Clank.

The loading platform flipped ninety degrees, and Daisy was dumped out like a garbage bag, landing with a thud on the scrap metal pile outside the camp. One of her high heels went flying, her white dress was torn in three places by wire, exposing her flesh-colored bra straps underneath. She lay face-down on the ground, her face smashed into a puddle of motor oil, her carefully styled blonde hair matted with black mud.

"Ahhh—help! Help me!"

She crawled backward like a rabid dog on all fours, her screams like air raid sirens. The zombies outside the camp turned in unison, dozens of gray-white eyeballs locking onto this moving target.

"Oh my God! Daisy!" Martha shrieked.

"Cole, have you lost your mind?" Tom's crutch clattered to the ground.

I stood behind the gate, lighting a new cigarette. The smoke filled my lungs—comfortable.

Daisy rolled and crawled on the ground, snot and tears covering her face, her torn dress hiked up to her thighs, looking as pathetic as a rat dragged from a sewer. Where was that saintly savior demeanor from moments ago?

Just as the nearest zombie was about to bite her ankle, an angry roar exploded from a corner of the camp:

"You bastards! How dare you touch Daisy!"

Noah. The repairman who usually hid in the repair shed fixing engines, who never dared speak loudly. Now he charged out like he'd eaten gunpowder, the wrench in his hand suddenly blazing with blinding white light—[Weapon Enhancement] ability awakening on the spot.

"Daisy! I'm coming to save you!"

He crashed through the camp gate like a mad bull, his enhanced wrench swinging in wide arcs. One zombie's head exploded into black watermelon juice. Second one, third one—he carved a bloody path and rushed to Daisy, grabbing her and dragging her back.

I held my cigarette, leaning against the doorframe watching the show.

Noah was actually pretty capable. The ability awakening had explosively increased his strength, turning him into a human meat grinder. But the moment Daisy was dragged back to safety, her toes barely touching the camp threshold, she immediately pointed at the motorcycle gang surrounded by zombies on the other side, her voice cracking:

"Noah! You're so strong! Go save those poor people! They're going to die!"

Noah looked back at the gang, then at Daisy.

Daisy stared at him with those tear-reddened eyes, like she was transmitting some sacred command: "Noah, you're the best! I knew you wouldn't stand by and watch! Don't worry about me, go save them!"

Noah gritted his teeth, turned around, and charged into the zombie horde toward the motorcycle gang.

Daisy crawled and rolled through the camp gate, and the moment she entered the safe zone, her spine straightened. She wiped the motor oil from her face, adjusted her torn dress, then turned around and jabbed her finger straight at my nose:

"Cole! You demon!"

Her voice was sharp enough to cut glass.

"You almost got me killed! How can you be so cruel? So cold-blooded? Are you even human?"

The camp's echo chamber responded again:

"That's too much! How could you push Daisy out to feed zombies?"

"Cole, you've changed! You weren't like this before!"

"Yeah, Cole used to be so kind!"

Tom hobbled over with his crutch, looking disappointed: "Son, what you did was wrong. Daisy just wanted to save people."

Martha shook her head: "Cole, how could you do such a vicious thing to a girl?"

Daisy got more worked up as she spoke, tears flowing on command like a turned-on faucet: "Look at Noah! He didn't care about his own life to save people! That's a hero! That's a real man! And Cole? He only hurts innocent people!"

"That's right! Noah is so brave!"

"He just awakened his ability and dared to charge out!"

"Now that's a real man!"

I leaned against the wall, slowly blowing a smoke ring.

Go ahead and curse. Curse all you want.

You idiots, you personally sent Noah to his death and you're still smug about it. When he comes back severely injured and Lucas's pack of wolves follows him through that door, let's see if you can still curse so loudly.

The fighting outside lasted nearly forty minutes. Zombie roars, motorcycle engine rumbles, and Noah's battle cries mixed together like a free symphony of death. Daisy pressed herself against the door crack, shouting "Go Noah!" every two minutes until her voice went hoarse.

Finally, the gate was crashed open.

Noah entered first, covered in blood, with a claw mark from his left shoulder to right rib deep enough to see bone. His work vest was torn to shreds. His face was paper-white, swaying with each step until he finally dropped to one knee with a thud, coughing up a mouthful of black blood.

Behind him, the dozen or so motorcycle gang members were in high spirits. Aside from torn clothes, they didn't have so much as a scratch.

The leader was a bald man covered in scars, with a vicious scar running from his forehead to his cheek over his left eye. The first thing he did upon entering was scan the warehouse location, weapon racks, and fuel barrels, then immediately put on a face of overwhelming gratitude, his eyes instantly reddening:

"Brothers! We're saved!"

His voice trembled: "These kind people risked their lives to save us! Especially this hero!" He pointed at Noah, who was kneeling and coughing blood, his voice emotional: "He's an angel! If not for him, we'd all be dead out there!"

The motorcycle gang behind him nodded in unison:

"Little brother is so brave!"

"Our savior!"

"We'll never forget this!"

Daisy immediately put on her trademark saintly smile, tears still at the corners of her eyes, walking over with open arms: "This is what we should do. In this cruel world, only by helping each other can we survive. We're all human—"

Lucas grasped her hand, his eyes even redder: "A good person like you is truly the hope of the apocalypse!"

The other people in the camp were moved to tears by this scene:

"See? Good deeds are rewarded!"

"Noah really is amazing!"

"Daisy was right!"

I flicked my cigarette ash, the corner of my mouth curving slightly.

Nice acting, Lucas. In my previous life, you had the same expression, and three days later you had the warehouse keys hanging from your own waist.

I stubbed out my cigarette on the wall and turned toward the repair shop. Daisy's triumphant voice followed behind me: "Cole! Did you see that? This is what kindness looks like! This is humanity! Your cold-blooded approach will eventually be abandoned by this world!"

I didn't look back.

Idiot.

You personally let wolves into the sheep pen and still think you're a savior.

I pushed open the repair shop's iron door, and three layers of armor plating locked shut behind me with click-click-click sounds. In the darkness, I pressed my hand against the main control pipeline, [Mechanical Dominion] spreading out like a spider web—hydraulic systems, electrical circuits, electromagnetic valves in the underground oil depot, tentacle after tentacle burrowing into every sinew and bone of the station.

The real show was just beginning.

Lucas, enjoy these three days. When you've all finished dancing on the minefield, I'll pull the switch.