Of course, in order to save energy, Lu Dongnuan’s method of control was simple and brutally direct.
She slowly raised her hand and waved.
Not far away, Tang Kezhi, unable to resist, also slowly raised her hand and waved back.
Seeing how well it worked, Lu Dongnuan broke into a bright grin.
Lin Mo gave her a thumbs-up, then whispered something in her ear.
She nodded, a mischievous smile appearing on her lips.
Tang Kezhi broke out in a cold sweat at once.
“Dr. Lu…” Her lips moved soundlessly, but Lu Dongnuan knew exactly what she was saying, “This welcome gift… is certainly unique.”
Lu Dongnuan didn’t answer, just tilted her head slightly, the red light in her eyes flickering once more.
Suddenly, Tang Kezhi’s raised arm veered off course.
No longer a friendly wave, her movements turned awkwardly stiff as she lifted her hand above her head and began imitating the beckoning cat, paw swaying back and forth.
Humiliation instantly drowned Tang Kezhi.
Her pupils shrank in furious outrage.
Then, as if nothing had happened, her hand smoothed her hair as naturally as could be, as if the strange gesture moments ago was just to fix a stray lock.
Even if a few people noticed that something was off with Tang Jie, no one said much.
The soup distribution ended quickly this time.
Lu Dongnuan, controlling her, dispersed the remaining people.
Then Lin Mo left first, Lu Dongnuan followed behind him, and Tang Kezhi trailed not far after Lu Dongnuan.
They chose a school building that was empty inside, and rarely visited by others.
After Lin Mo fitted the explosive collar around Tang Kezhi’s neck, he dragged over a chair.
It was an old school chair, iron frame rusted, plastic seat scarred all over.
The clamor outside seemed cut off by this abandoned school building, leaving only the sound of wind passing through the hallways and a silence between the three that was almost solid.
They sat down.
“This collar will explode. I advise you not to act rashly.” As he spoke, he flashed the remote in his hand.
In reality, that remote controlled the one on Lu Dongnuan’s leg.
Tang Kezhi didn’t know this, nor did Lu Dongnuan.
Lu Dongnuan released her control.
The moment her body was her own again, Tang Kezhi almost sprang to her feet, but the rough metal collar around her neck immediately quashed all impulse.
She froze in her chair, chest heaving, a few damp strands of hair plastered to her brow and neck, glinting in the dim light.
Lu Dongnuan sat in the chair opposite her, quietly waiting, a gentle smile on her face.
After a while, Tang Kezhi lifted her head.
“Having fun, Dr. Lu?” Her voice was a little hoarse, but each word rang out clear and sharp, squeezed from between clenched teeth, “Beckoning cat?”
Lu Dongnuan met her gaze, the triumphant grin of a prank still lingering on her lips.
Tang Kezhi glanced at the remote in Lin Mo’s hand, eyes lingering on the button for a moment before she looked back at Lu Dongnuan.
“The collar,” she said, voice even, emotionless, “it fits the little props of the Apocalypse. So, you two went to all this trouble, not just to sit across from me and stare, right?”
“It wasn’t all that much trouble,” Lu Dongnuan replied, slowly testing the waters, and her words successfully kindled Tang Kezhi’s anger.
Tang Kezhi slammed the desk, the old school chair screeching harshly on the cement floor.
She sprang up, grabbing Lu Dongnuan by the collar so hard it nearly hauled her out of her seat.
“I didn’t even do anything outrageous to you, did I?!” Her teeth gnashed, veins bulged at her temples, and those eyes that usually held a reassuring smile now burned with terrible fury.
“What the hell are you?!”
Lu Dongnuan was yanked forward by the collar, but her expression didn’t change at all.
“My, my, Miss Tang, no need to be so worked up.” Her voice was as soft as cotton candy, an eerie contrast to the tense atmosphere.
“We ought to be partners, not enemies.”
Tang Kezhi glared at her, knuckles white as she shook with fury, “Fine. Now you be the beckoning cat for me.”
The air froze for a second.
Then—
“Meow~” Lu Dongnuan really mewled softly, her tone rising coquettishly at the end.
Tang Kezhi: “……uh.”
It was as if an invisible force had choked her.
The raging fire in her chest stuck in her throat; her hand clutching the collar hovered mid-air, her whole body frozen in absurd disbelief.
By the window, Lin Mo’s calm voice sounded: “Let it go. You can’t out-bottom her, no matter how you try.”
Tang Kezhi’s fingers loosened one by one.
She slowly sat back down, her chest still heaving, but that nearly explosive fury had been utterly dispersed by that nonsensical “meow”, leaving only deep helplessness and a strange, bone-deep wariness.
She watched Lu Dongnuan calmly straighten her wrinkled collar, her movements unhurried, that gentle, harmless smile never leaving her face.
“All right, what do you want to talk about?”
“Are you a regressor?”
Lu Dongnuan waited a few seconds, receiving no answer.
She didn’t seem impatient; instead, she tilted her head with curiosity, as if observing a fascinating specimen.
She even leaned in, lowered her voice, and said with a touch of intimacy, as if sharing a secret: “Don’t be nervous. I was just guessing.”
“You…” Her voice was as dry as gravel grinding together, “Who are you, really? Are you also…?”
“No, I am the god who rules over regressors.”
Tang Kezhi’s face froze.
Then—”Smack.”
Lin Mo’s palm landed lightly on the back of Lu Dongnuan’s head.
Lu Dongnuan let out an “ow,” shrank her neck, and stopped talking, sitting up straight again.
She knew Lin Mo couldn’t stand her awkward chitchat anymore, so she settled obediently into a “you two talk, I’ll just listen” posture.
Tang Kezhi’s gaze flicked quickly between the two, realizing that Lin Mo was likely the master here, and Lu Dongnuan the subordinate.
Lin Mo went straight to the point.
“We’ll cooperate. Build a massive shelter that covers several districts.”
Tang Kezhi frowned, “Why?”
“You’re a regressor. You don’t need to ask why, do you?”
That line was like a needle, piercing Tang Kezhi’s barely maintained composure.
Her hands, resting on her knees, clenched suddenly.
“He’s a regressor too…”
“Hey, I’m not, I don’t know anything, can I ask questions?” Off to the side, Lu Dongnuan raised her hand again, innocent curiosity shining in her eyes.
Lin Mo and Tang Kezhi both fell silent for a moment, tacitly ignoring her.
Tang Kezhi drew a deep breath, forcing herself to ignore Lu Dongnuan’s headache-inducing presence and focus on Lin Mo’s question.
“Even if… even if I do know some things that might happen,” she chose her words carefully, no longer denying outright, “to build a massive shelter spanning several districts… that idea is crazy.”
She paused, then continued, “First, where will the resources come from, where will the people come from, how will it be managed, how will we defend against other Survivor Groups, and who would allow us to expand this much?”
She listed the obvious difficulties, probing for their cards and true intentions.
“That’s why we need to cooperate.” Lin Mo was concise, “You know where key resources might be found, which places are relatively safe, roughly when certain disasters or opportunities will appear. We have the strength,” he added, glancing at Lu Dongnuan, who was idly tracing circles on her knee with her finger.
“Anyway, you need to find as many living people as possible.”
“Sigh, are there other Survivor Groups?” Lu Dongnuan chimed in as if she wasn’t even on the same channel, occasionally interrupting their conversation.