**Chapter 69: Breakfast**

The rooftop crowd grumbled as the remote-control helicopter vanished, settling back around their pot to resume their meal.

*Buzzzz—*

"What's that noise? Is the drone still nearby?" The bearded man who'd aimed at Mofang earlier muttered, his beard flecked with gruel.

"It's behind you…"

He turned slowly, spotting a spinning rotor rising from below, followed by a blue-and-red fuselage. Wait… Was that a gun mounted under its nose? A toy gun? What the hell—

"Take cover—!" the sniper girl screamed.

Chaos erupted. Survivors scrambled behind barriers, knocking over bowls of gruel. Then, the helicopter's mini-gun flashed—

*Rat-a-tat-tat!*

*Whizz… Thud… Clang!*

Bullets cratered the concrete rooftop. The iron pot, now a colander, clattered to the ground as its contents splattered into the fire.

"Annoying humans. Road bandits I've heard of, but sky bandits? Just passing through, and you *still* bother me? Since your breakfast looked revolting, let me help trash it." Mofang fired 30 rounds before banking sharply toward the New District. No casualties—just a ruined pot and a lesson delivered.

"Bastard! Our food…!" "Wahahaha!" Mofang reveled in their howls as it disappeared behind buildings.

The city by daylight felt equally eerie. Dormant zombies loitered streets beneath a half-hung celebrity billboard flapping in the wind—her glamorous smile a macabre contrast to the rot below. Gray miasma rose from corpse-choked hotels. If night brought terror, day brought desolation.

Mofang's shadow flitted across skyscraper windows as it raced north.

***

On the mountain highway, the modified armored truck—now a battering ram—led two buses toward the river. Teacher He and another instructor, despite lacking proper licenses, drove the buses. Survival trumped regulations.

*Crunch!*

"YEAH!" Guards atop the truck cheered as its V-shaped plow shoved a luxury wreck aside. Zhang Xiaowen, behind the wheel, drove like a tank commander. "Check ammo. Use controlled bursts. Imagine you're chopping meat in the kitchen."

Several guards lost their appetites.

Two sprinting zombies charged the truck.

*Splat!*

Red pulp smeared the plow. "My apologies," Zhang Xiaowen said dryly. The passenger-seat fat student rolled his eyes.

*** Thirty minutes later, the convoy reached the riverside tourist dock. Two double-decker sightseeing boats floated among smaller yachts. A dozen zombie "staff" clawed at the gates.

"We need a boat captain," Zhang Xiaowen said.

"Pretty sure *they* won't volunteer," the fat student nodded at the undead.

"Clear the gate. Stab, don't shoot."

Guards reluctantly swapped submachine guns for steel rods, impaling zombies through the fence. Once cleared, they hauled carcasses aside with hooked poles.

Zhang Xiaowen scanned the boats with her goggles—and froze. A green heat signature blinked on one vessel.

"Hey…! Over here!" A gaunt dockworker in a stained uniform staggered onto the deck, weeping. "You're…here…" Thud!* Zhang Xiaowen leaped 4 meters onto the boat, startling everyone. "Can you pilot this?"

"I…need food…"

She handed him a red bean pastry. He devoured it in seconds, licking crumbs off the deck until she gave him three more.

"Can. You. Drive. This. Boat?"

"I…uh…wasn't certified yet…"

"Congratulations—you're certified now. Prep for departure."

"But…aren't you rescuing *me*? Why—"

"We're rescuing *others*. Drive, or stay here and starve. Unless you can fish."

"The fuel's…onshore."

Zhang Xiaowen smirked. Of course—he'd been trapped by zombies guarding the fuel depot. "Refuel. Now."

As guards hauled jerrycans, Mofang's feed showed the New District school's desperate survivors. Dusk approached. The river rescue had begun.