Chapter 20: I Really Am a Good Person

Yazī did not reply. He despised it when someone pointed a knife at him. Without a word, he extended his right hand and seized the hand that had emerged from the darkness. With a sudden, forceful twist, he turned that hand a full 180 degrees! Just as the unseen man—gripped by searing pain and about to scream—opened his mouth in agony, Yazī snatched a rag from his storage and stuffed it into the man's mouth with his left hand.

In that split second, the small knife, which had been about to drop, was prevented from clattering onto the floor—since that crisp sound would undoubtedly alert the zombies lurking outside the infirmary. Thinking quickly, Yazī's leg sprang into action: he slammed his foot onto the knife's blade, knocking it sideways, and then with a precise motion, caught the knife with his right foot.

Crisis averted.

Releasing the man—whose wrist was now twisted painfully—Yazī then lifted the knife with his right foot once more, securing it firmly. In a calm tone he declared, "Remember this: you may be vigilant, but you've crossed someone you cannot afford to mess with." The knife spun in his hand like a delicate butterfly.

In the pitch‑black infirmary, heavy breathing echoed from several corners. Another man, with his mouth now stuffed with rags and only able to emit muffled whimpers, stood nearby. Yazī turned and reached into his storage once again, retrieving a specially modified thick cloth. This cloth, covered with suction cups—a handy little apocalypse gadget he'd crafted in his spare time—he affixed to the infirmary door, completely covering the upper glass windows. Satisfied that no stray light would leak out, he spoke, "Lights on."

At first there was silence. After a moment, a female voice hesitantly said, "Turning on the lights will attract zombies."

"Can't you see I've already blocked the light from the door? Now, turn it on!" Yazī retorted.

Before she could protest further, the lights were switched on. The environment of the infirmary was soon revealed. In one corner, a woman dressed in nurse's attire sat on the floor. At the light switch, a woman in a white coat—a doctor—had just turned on the lights. Yazī's gaze swept over them thoughtfully.

On an examination bed sat two men wearing uniforms labeled "Maintenance"—clearly repairmen—who looked at Yazī with fearful eyes. The nurse and the two repairmen regarded him with terror; after all, the moment Yazī had arrived, he had delivered such a fearsome first impression. Only the doctor remained calm, though her eyes betrayed a hint of apprehension.

Almost forgotten, on the floor writhed a young man in evident pain—he was the one who had just attempted to threaten Yazī with a dagger. With a torn rag still in his mouth, he glared at Yazī with venomous eyes, as if he were a viper waiting for a chance to strike back. That venomous look—capable of exacting vengeance at the slightest provocation—could not escape Yazī's keen senses. He bent down, fixating on the young man. In his decade of surviving the apocalypse, Yazī had seen countless such looks—the very ones that, if ignored, would later lead to a betrayal with a knife.

"Tell me, why must you act so arrogantly?" Yazī said coolly.

Before the young man could retort, Yazī raised his knife and, with lethal precision, drove it straight into the young man's neck. "Because that would kill you!" he declared flatly.The young man's body went rigid and his eyes began to glaze over—he never imagined that after narrowly escaping a zombie's clutches, he would fall by Yazī's blade.

But as the young man's life ebbed away, another dagger—previously hidden—suddenly appeared in view. It turned out that the young man had planned to ambush Yazī with a second knife as well. The entire infirmary fell into a stunned silence. None of the four present could believe that the masked man in cyan had just killed the young man!

A small nurse, sitting on the floor and staring at the young man's corpse, trembled uncontrollably. Instinctively, she opened her mouth to scream—but Yazī's steely gaze fell upon her. Under his mask, his eyes were calm and unreadable; yet, every hair on the nurse's body immediately stood on end. This is the human reaction when faced with true terror.

Realizing that even a single cry would mean her immediate death at his hands, the nurse tore a strip of gauze from her dress and stuffed it into her mouth to stifle any sound. The two repairmen, equally frightened, trembled visibly, their faces etched with fear. Only the doctor, stationed by the light switch, managed to remain composed.

Yazī stood and, in a single fluid motion, let the murderous aura that had filled the room dissipate. Everyone shivered as if a chill wind had passed. They all realized that in just a few short seconds, they'd been gripped by fear so intense that cold sweat broke out all over them.

"Listen, don't get the wrong idea—I'm a good person," Yazī said, raising both hands in an innocent gesture."You're a good person?" murmured those present, each of them silently questioning their own virtue.Some quickly began to mutter among themselves, "He was the one who provoked me first—I only defended myself!" and "I'm a reasonable man—if we all love one another, nothing bad happens!" But no one believed him.

After a heavy silence, the doctor cleared her throat and said coolly, "Well, that man got what he deserved—we all saw it." The others nodded in agreement.

"Good then," Yazī said, stepping forward two paces as if to leave. He intended to find a spot to rest. At that very moment, the two repairmen, previously seated on the examination bed, jumped up in fright, and the nurse slid back further away. Yazī, uninterested in their reaction, found a comfortable office chair, sat down, closed his eyes, and began to rest.

It had been a day of constant travel and brutal combat—even the earlier battle at the ping‑pong hall was exhausting. Although Yazī had performed a feat that most could never imagine—a 1‑against‑17 kill—he still felt he could have done even better in the morning when he was at full strength.

Soon the infirmary fell quiet once more. As Yazī rested, he suddenly commanded, "Dispose of these corpses and clean up the blood."

When a person of his stature speaks, none dare disobey. The doctor and nurse set to work cleaning the blood, while the two repairmen moved the bodies away and bundled them in sheets.

When they finished, Yazī looked the doctor in the eye and then checked her basic information on his panel.