**Chapter 65: Predator's Hunt**

A gleaming machete swung toward Gao Dong. Forced to release his grip on the rifle, he stumbled backward—only to collide with the thugs blocking his retreat.

"Ah—!"

The blade flashed. Warm liquid streamed down his face, tinting his vision crimson. A crushing blow to his skull followed. His ears rang, the world spun, and darkness swallowed him.

"Gao Dong!" Fatty arrived just in time to see his friend collapse, face drenched in blood.

The sight of blades and gore sent the female students into hysterical screams. The black-clad gang leered, yellowed teeth bared, savoring the chaos. No one noticed Fatty frantically muttering into a walkie-talkie. Amid the turmoil, Dahei—the camp's loyal guard dog—growled at the gaunt leader but stayed rooted, deterred by the rifle aimed at the terrified girls.

The standoff intensified: ten student-held guns versus the gang's two.

"Why kill us? What did we do?!" Teacher He shouted, shielding her students.

The gaunt leader sneered. "Shut it, hag. We're here for the girls. This is the apocalypse—no rules, no cops. Might as well die happy, right?" His gang roared with laughter.

Unnoticed, four shadows slinked through the grass nearby—predators closing in.

A sudden scream erupted from behind the gang. "Boss! Found a sweet one!" A bald thug dragged a girl from a makeshift washroom, sniffing her neck as she shrieked.

Nearby, an elderly man hiding by a storage pile steadied an antique flintlock gun, its barrel trained on the bald thug.

"Keep her. Do what you want," the gaunt leader taunted the students. "Sheep with guns are still sheep."

The bald thug shoved the girl into the grass, stripping his shirt to reveal grotesque tattoos. He snorted a powder from a packet, shuddering with euphoria. "Gonna take my time with this one…"

"Let her go!" a student yelled.

"Plenty to go around—two or three each!" the leader jeered.

As the drugged thug lunged, a shadow blurred past. *Rrrip!*

The bald man froze, clutching his gushing throat. Blood bubbled from his mouth as he collapsed.

The girl screamed—but her cry died when she spotted a familiar black-striped tabby nearby.

Cats. Silent hunters. Claws like daggers. Since the apocalypse, these four strays had evolved: larger, faster, their territory fiercely guarded. To them, the camp was *theirs*. And now, intruders dared harm their domain.

Chaos erupted.

"Boss! Baldie's dead!" A thug sprinted to the grass, only to find his comrade's corpse.

The gaunt leader whirled, spotting another subordinate convulsing on the ground, throat torn open. "Who did this?!"

Silence.

Meanwhile, the tabby stalked toward the gang's rear, pupils slit like blades. It pounced—

"Agh! S-something's on me—!" A thug clawed at his back before collapsing, blood frothing from his neck.

Panic spread. The leader glared at six former gang members among the students. "Join us, and each gets a girl!"

The six hesitated, then their leader spat, "We're done with that life. We'll protect this place!"

Students cheered. Enraged, the gaunt leader raised his rifle—

*Thwack!*

A brick struck his hand, the gun clattering away. Fatty stood panting, face flushed. "Touch them again, and I'll feed *you* to the zombies!"

The tabby hissed, leaping onto another thug's shoulders. Claws sank into flesh. Screams melded with growls as the four felines tore through the gang like vengeful wraiths. The gaunt leader stumbled back, eyes wide. "W-what the hell are these things—?!"

But his question died as the largest cat lunged, fangs bared—a predator claiming its kill.