Chapter 12: Bloodshed

Amidst the ruins of the restaurant, a man named Fei Chengqiang stepped forward and gathered more than a hundred people around him. The group was limited to just over a hundred because some refused to join, preferring to observe the situation before committing. Considering these were all neighbors and coworkers—people he saw every day—Fei Chengqiang did not pressure those unwilling to join. Correspondingly, if trouble arose in the future, Fei Chengqiang’s group bore no obligation to rescue or protect them.

It was worth noting that, after hearing Fei Chengqiang’s speech, Chang Jiemin, the security captain of the tourist area, withdrew with his security team—about twenty-six men in all. Meanwhile, among the villa residents, several small groups formed.

One group was led by Brother Long and his four brothers, who tirelessly recruited others into their fold. Another was headed by the young scion Wang Siyang, accompanied by two friends, six bodyguards, and six socialites. The third group belonged to the entrepreneur Zhang Li, surrounded by four bodyguards, a secretary, and a handful of other tourists who attached themselves to him.

Clearly, these gatherings were deliberate—everyone had their own purpose. But in this scenic resort, disaster had struck: first a landslide, then the tourist company’s building collapsed and was submerged by mud and debris, followed by a restaurant conflict that led to an explosion. Food supply dwindled, parts of the area lost water and electricity, and with no hope for rescue, the severity of the situation was obvious to all.

Everyone had a phone; a glance at the news revealed that nearly the entire globe had plunged into the terror of torrential rains and floods. For instance, a city in the Mediterranean region saw floodwaters surge by a meter within an hour after a massive storm, and in less than half a day, the whole city was submerged—one million souls missing or dead. The dried-up Lop Nur, parched for thousands of years, transformed into a vast sea under the deluge. Many coastal cities were drowned, their boundaries between sea and rainwater blurred. Numerous low-lying island nations vanished beneath the waves, their death tolls uncountable. In such circumstances, could those trapped in this corner hope for rescue?

Their chances were slim. Without rescue, there was no food; without food, starvation loomed. Action was imperative.

Inside her villa, Su Miao finished her hotpot meal, prepared a room for Xia Xiao’an, and then went upstairs to the second floor. She peered through the curtains, readying herself in case anyone approached the villa. The thought of another burly middle-aged man pressing his face to the window was horrifying.

At the same time, Su Miao opened WeChat, keeping a close eye on the Versailles tourist group’s chat.

“Help! Does anyone have antibiotics?”

“Save me, please—someone save me! I’m buried under the mudslide. If someone rescues me, I’ll offer a hundred million.”

“Does anyone have food? Instant noodles at two thousand per pack, bread at two thousand each—I’ll buy at a high price.”

“Only two thousand? I’ll pay five thousand per pack.”

“Is there a doctor here? Please, a doctor—save my girlfriend, I’m begging you!”

“Stop crying in the group. Is it useful? Without food, we’ll all starve.”

“Anyone with food, please share a bit with us.”

“Damn it, it’s all that old fool’s fault—if he wanted to die, fine, but he dragged us all down with him.”

“Is anyone else joining Brother Long’s group? Join now, and you’re brothers. Wait a few days, and who knows?”

“You can keep waiting here, but I’m done. Even if I risk the floods and mudslides, I’m leaving. Stay behind, and you’re sure to starve. Anyone coming with me?”

“Floods and mudslides are everywhere—where can you go?”

“My place has lost water and power. What about yours?”

“Same here.”

“What are we supposed to do now?”

“Everyone, I suggest we pool our remaining food and distribute it collectively to get through this hardship together.”

“Pool food? Didn’t you see the restaurant explosion today? If another lunatic tries to drag us all down, who will be responsible?”

“……”

The WeChat group was in constant uproar, and Su Miao, after watching for a while, couldn’t bear to continue. Fear weighed heavily on her.

Days ago, these tourists boasted in the Versailles group, but now they were offering huge sums for food. Before, they wouldn’t even glance at instant noodles or bread—straight into the trash. Now, they were willing to pay exorbitant prices. But this was a tourist area; who living in a villa would stock up on such things? And even if they had any, no one would sell now. Money was plentiful, but food was scarce.

Without food, trouble was inevitable. Many parts of the tourist area were already without water and power, and the restaurant had been destroyed—no reserves remained.

The more Su Miao considered, the more frightened she became. She had prepared far too little for the apocalypse.

Thus, Su Miao began to keep watch by the window every day, occasionally peeking through the curtains to check for people approaching. If anyone appeared, she would hide and make no sound.

“Sister Su, let me help you.”

Seeing Su Miao in this state, Xia Xiao’an joined her at the window. Meals now took place in the second-floor living room.

Almost a week passed, yet outside the villa, nothing happened apart from the relentless storm. As for the tourist WeChat group, aside from cursing the heavens, pleading for rescue, begging for supplies, or recruiting members, nothing much occurred. No fierce conflicts erupted; it seemed everyone had enough food, and there was no need to fight.

But was that really true?

September 13, 2123, at 3 a.m.

A group of people, armed with steel pipes, clubs, and kitchen knives, braved the rain and headed toward the villa district. Fei Chengqiang led them.

Two days prior, he’d received word that someone in the villa area planned to attack them and seize their remaining supplies. Outraged, everyone rallied. These were the same people who had driven the restaurant’s old chef to suicide, depriving them all of food—and now, they wanted to snatch away their last hope of survival?

Impossible. Absolutely not.

So Fei Chengqiang and his lieutenants conspired to strike first.

They broke into a villa with practiced ease, launching into a frenzy of hacking and slaughter. The entrepreneur Zhang Li was killed on the spot. His bodyguards tried to intervene, but their fists were no match for clubs and knives; they were quickly wounded. The tourists who had thrown in with Zhang Li never expected such violence. Half asleep, they only sought to escape.

Within fifteen minutes, those surviving on Zhang Li’s side surrendered, and the fighting ceased.

Three were killed, six gravely wounded, two missing, and the rest suffered minor injuries.

“Take all the food—we’re leaving,” Fei Chengqiang ordered, wielding a hatchet as he struck Zhang Li’s skull. Blood splattered across his face, but he was indifferent.

“Master, we’ve avenged you!”

He glanced at the women cowering in the corner, trembling with fear. “Take all these women with us, too.”