Chapter 33: Supply

Watching the two of them get caught up in heated discussion, Lu Dongnuan began making her own plans.

Of course, she wasn’t wholeheartedly helping Lin Mo, only to push herself step by step into the abyss—right now, she was merely submitting temporarily to strength, just like Goujian once did.

He was simply too formidable. 

Lu Dongnuan truly couldn’t picture any scenario in which she might win.

‘Seriously, you’re a reincarnator—not addicted to women, not hoarding supplies, not working alone, with nothing but prophecies about the future in your head and every move aimed at crushing your mortal enemies.’

Not a trace of hesitation, not an ounce of sympathy—even if she were willing to be nothing but his sex toy, he wouldn’t so much as look her way.

She felt that if she was ever replaced, or if her value was wrung dry, her end would be nothing short of a death atop another death.

Before that happened, she either needed to escape, or kill Lin Mo.

***

‘Kill Lin Mo.’ She made her decision without hesitation.

After standing out in the cold for a while longer, Lin Mo seemed to have finished conveying his thoughts, and Tang Kezhi also gave her assent.

At last, it was her turn to speak.

“Mr. Lin,” Tang Kezhi said, her voice crisp and composed in the chill wind, carrying the respectful tone of a subordinate consulting her superior, “I have a question.”

Lin Mo looked at her, expressionless, just raising his chin slightly to indicate she should go on.

Tang Kezhi drew in a breath. 

This time, she didn’t even glance at Lu Dongnuan—her gaze locked straight onto Lin Mo, and she asked the question that had long hovered in her mind, perhaps one she had no choice but to ask: “What’s her background, exactly?”

Lin Mo fell silent for a moment. 

In the blank space of those few seconds, only the sound of wind and snow could be heard.

He truly seemed to be weighing his words, not just offering a perfunctory answer.

“‘Only Child’ designation.” He paused, then added, “For now, she’s still of some use.”

Tang Kezhi’s eyes widened abruptly. 

Clear astonishment flashed within them, even a hint of disbelief—the composure she’d managed to maintain cracked, if only for a moment.

She whipped her head back toward Lu Dongnuan, but this time, her gaze was utterly changed—full of scrutiny, vigilance, and a deep, nearly instinctual wariness.

“She’s an Only Child?” Her voice dropped, tinged with shock and suspicion.

“What’s your relationship with her?” This time, it was pure gossip on Tang Kezhi’s part.

Lin Mo clearly couldn’t be bothered to answer such a question.

Lu Dongnuan smiled at her and said, “We’re basically the same.” 

She pulled her pants up to her thigh, revealing the leg band underneath.

Tang Kezhi’s eyes were fixed on that stretch of pale thigh. 

In this moment, she was incredibly glad she’d made the right decision.

No joke—no matter which Survivor Groups rose up in the future, none of them could be a match for an Only Child.

This sort of being was disaster itself.

And the beautiful woman before her was one of them.

Because of that, she had to reconsider Lin Mo as a person.

What was he thinking, keeping an Only Child at his side—wasn’t that practically suicide?

The reason Only Child designations were so fearsome was because of their uniqueness—no special infected could compare to them.

“Mr. Lin,” she spoke again, her voice steadier but still taut with nerves, “is she”—she pointed at Lu Dongnuan, no longer hiding her wariness—”entirely under your control?”

“Don’t worry.” Lin Mo uttered just those two words.

“All right, I believe you.”

With the matter settled, Lin Mo was ready to leave—after all, this place wasn’t his intended base of operations; coming here had been a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Lu Dongnuan’s residential community was truly a good place, nestled by the mountains and water—no wonder the property prices had been so high.

But Tang Kezhi stopped Lin Mo, pointing at the collar on her neck.

Lin Mo switched her to the same style as Lu Dongnuan’s.

He even joked, “Aren’t you happy, aren’t you happy?”

Paying no mind to how her face was growing darker by the second.

But Tang Kezhi endured it.

“Before you go, help me with something. I lost three people…”

The two who were about to leave paused in unison.

***

After leaving Beigao, they began searching for a new pharmacy.

Lu Dongnuan started to complain, “Ugh, we have to look for medicine all over again…”

Lin Mo patted her on the back and said, “Thanks for your hard work.”

The cold touch of his palm against her shoulder blade made Lu Dongnuan tense up, almost imperceptibly, for a split second.

She didn’t dodge. 

Instead, she leaned back half a step, turned her face to the side, lifted her head to look at Lin Mo, her eyes curved in a smile, lips drawing up playfully.

“It’s not hard at all,” she said softly, her voice as sweet as sugar melting on the tongue. 

“How could it be hard working for the boss?”

Lin Mo took the lead, stepping out. 

His boots crunched through the frozen, rock-hard snow, making a sharp, creaking sound.

Lu Dongnuan followed half a step behind, the sweet smile on her face gradually fading, leaving only a cold, scrutinizing glint in her eyes like reflected snowlight.

Walkers along the road quickly gave them a wide berth. 

Even the bizarre creatures crawling on the buildings, after casting a glance their way, hurriedly looked away.

Finding a new pharmacy wasn’t easy. 

The city had deteriorated rapidly in the extreme cold and chaos—any supply points that stood out had long since been raided countless times.

They avoided the main roads, weaving through snow-filled alleys and half-collapsed buildings.

The wind whipped up snowflakes, stinging their faces like knives.

Lu Dongnuan buried her face in her scarf, leaving only her eyes visible, silently watching Lin Mo’s back.

He walked with almost no sound, his steps steady, his eyes sharp as he swept over every corner that could hide danger or supplies.

That precise, efficient bearing—no hesitation, no wasted movement…

“Reincarnator…” Lu Dongnuan mouthed the word silently, “came back to fish for easy prey, I bet.”

They returned to their original route.

“This way.” At a crossroads, Lin Mo stopped, listened for a moment, then pointed to a side street piled with abandoned cars and construction debris.

There wasn’t a single zombie in sight here, which put both Lu Dongnuan and Lin Mo on alert.

In places like this, either there were special infected, or people.

On the crooked sign at the corner, the faint characters for “Kang An” could be seen.

They trudged through the snow, pushing open a half-collapsed rolling shutter and slipping into a small shop by the street.

The sign had long since vanished. 

Inside, the shelves were toppled and askew, the floor littered with empty boxes and shattered glass, all thick with dust.

But in a corner, a half-open, rusted metal cabinet caught Lu Dongnuan’s eye.

Lin Mo didn’t charge in recklessly. 

He gestured for Lu Dongnuan to stay near the doorway where there was more light, then crept closer himself, each step placed on relatively stable debris, minimizing noise.

He first checked the ceiling and walls, confirming there were no hidden dangers or traps, before carefully prying open the warped cabinet door with his crowbar.

Dust fell in sheets. 

The cabinet was partly empty, but there were still a few things left: several boxes of antibiotics in good condition despite being rummaged through, some sealed syringes and needles, a few bottles of iodine and alcohol—half of them frozen and cracked—and some assorted painkillers and gauze.

“Not bad at all.” Lu Dongnuan took the bag, weighing it with a light tone. 

“Boss is pretty lucky.”

Lin Mo didn’t reply, giving the ruined pharmacy one last sweeping glance.

Just then, seven or eight people suddenly emerged from the shops along the street, all armed. 

The leader had a gun—clear as day—in his hand.