Chapter 43: Your RV Is Confiscated

Li Yang remained oblivious to Tang Ying's icy demeanor, sidling closer with a greasy smile. "Tang Ying, I know you've got feelings for me. Admit it."

Tang Ying crushed a shard of glass beneath her boot as she retreated, her hand brushing the pistol holstered at her hip. "Get yourself checked for delusional disorder."

Xiao Yang leaned against a crumbling wall, his cold laughter echoing. Sunlight glinted off the Tang sword in his grip, the blade's edge flickering across Li Yang's flushed face—still smeared with dried black blood from some nameless zombie. A decaying officer's corpse lay slumped near the cash register five meters away, its throat cavity now writhing with maggots.

"Do you know who my father is?" Li Yang suddenly straightened his slouch, his police belt digging into his beer belly.

Xiao Yang rapped his knuckles against the sword's hilt, the metallic hum scattering crows feasting on rot outside. "Should I memorize every cockroach's family tree?"

Li Yang's Adam's apple bobbed as he glared at the blade's cloth-wrapped grip. "Carrying prohibited weapons warrants fifteen days' detention!" His attempt to produce handcuffs froze mid-motion when guttural shrieks erupted—three shambling figures smashed through the convenience store's shattered display window.

"Shit—save me!" Li Yang scrambled backward, tripping over debris. His service pistol clattered to the floor as a zombie in tattered riot gear lunged, decayed fingers clawing at his ankle.

Xiao Yang's sword flashed. The zombie's head thudded to the ground, its body collapsing in a pool of black sludge. "Should've stayed in your hidey-hole, Officer." He wiped gore from his blade, eyes locking onto the two remaining undead—one still wearing a police cap, the other's jaw hanging by sinew.

Tang Ying's bullet punched through the cap-wearer's skull before Xiao Yang's sword severed the jawless zombie's spine. The stench of putrefaction thickened as silence returned.

Li Yang trembled in the gore-splattered aisle, urine darkening his trousers. "Th-those were my squad mates yesterday..."

Xiao Yang kicked the decapitated officer's badge toward him. "Bet they died covering your cowardly retreat."

"Enough." Tang Ying holstered her smoking pistol, her gaze slicing colder than Xiao Yang's blade. "We're leaving."

The armored RV idled outside like a steel behemoth, its solar panels gleaming. Three women armed with machetes stood guard—Mu Wanqing's blade hovered near Li Yang's throat before he could blink.

"Touch this vehicle," she whispered, steel kissing his jugular, "and I'll mail your head to Commissioner Li."

Li Yang's boast about his police chief father died in his throat. Behind him, Xiao Yang tossed a zombie arm onto the asphalt. "Your daddy's connections won't stop bullets—or teeth."

As the RV doors slammed shut, Li Yang's scream echoed through the abandoned streets: "You'll regret this! When order's restored—"

The engine roared, drowning his threats. Through bulletproof glass, Mu Wanqing blew him a kiss, her machete still dripping black blood.

Tang Ying finally allowed herself a smile, sharp and fleeting. "Remind me never to play poker with your women."

Xiao Yang revved past a burning police cruiser, his rearview mirror reflecting Li Yang's shrinking figure—still shouting at the apocalypse.