Apocalypse Ground Ze Chapter 79: Zhenlan’s Mask

Chapter 79: Zhenlan’s Mask

Zhenlan moved to stand beside Yuche without a word.

He didn’t rush. He didn’t interrupt what the other man was doing. He simply closed the distance with the same quiet control he forced himself to maintain since the beginning.

He stopped just close enough to see over the edge without exposing himself unnecessarily. His gaze swept once across the wall, taking in the movement, the density, the sheer number of bodies still climbing despite everything Yuche had already done.

Yuche didn’t look at him as he lined up another shot and took it.

Another zombie dropped.

He adjusted, fired again, and another followed, his movements still precise but no longer effortless. The rhythm that had felt natural minutes ago was beginning to strain, the timing slipping just slightly as his breathing grew heavier.

Zhenlan’s eyes shifted, not to the wall—but to Yuche.

It was subtle at first.

The change in posture.

The slight instability in his stance.

The way his shoulders dipped just a fraction lower between shots.

"I can’t keep this up for much longer," Yuche admitted quietly, his voice controlled but tighter now, the strain beginning to show despite his attempt to mask it. He fired again, his hand steady by force of will alone, even as the motion took more out of him than it had before. "You need to come up with a new plan."

Zhenlan tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable as he studied the other man. "Me?" he asked, his voice soft, almost idle, as if the suggestion itself amused him.

He leaned forward just enough to look over the edge properly this time, his gaze settling on the mass below. It didn’t take long to understand the situation. What Yuche was doing was effective, but it wasn’t enough. Each body that fell barely made a difference against the number still climbing.

A single drop of water in a ocean.

Zhenlan straightened slowly. "I didn’t think the Dragon Head of the Crimson Veil Society would take orders from a simple businessman like me," he continued, his tone light, conversational, as if they weren’t standing on the edge of being overrun.

Yuche let out a faint, tired breath that almost passed for a laugh.

"Don’t pretend your hands are clean," he replied, his eyes never leaving the wall as he lined up another shot. His thumb pressed down, and another zombie fell away from the building. "I still remember the rumors about Rouxi’s last boyfriend. Did the police ever find him?"

Zhenlan shook his head once, unbothered.

"I gave him three million dollars to disappear," he said evenly. "What he did after that wasn’t my concern. I really thought he would at least tell his parents that he was skipping town."

Yuche snorted softly, though the sound lacked any real humor.

"Everyone knows Rouxi is your weakness," he said, his voice lower now, his focus still locked on the climb as he fired again. Another body dropped. "That you’re possessive of her in a way that really isn’t... proper for a guardian... or a businessman."

Zhenlan didn’t respond. Not immediately.

Yuche continued, his tone shifting just slightly, not louder, but sharper. "I wonder what she would do if she knew the man who raised her for ten years was—"

"I highly suggest that you don’t finish that sentence."

The change in Zhenlan was immediate. His voice didn’t rise, it didn’t need to. Instead, it was deadly quiet.

The faint trace of amusement that had been there a moment ago vanished completely, leaving something colder behind. His eyes lost their softness, the warmth draining out of them as if it had never been real to begin with.

For a second, it felt like a different person was standing there.

Yuche didn’t turn around to look at him. He didn’t back down.

"Or what?" he asked quietly, almost lazily, as he took out another zombie, his thumb pressing down with practiced precision.

Zhenlan stepped closer.

Too close.

His presence shifted, not physically imposing, but heavier in a way that a lesser man would be intimidated. But Jian Yuche was not a lesser man. When Zhenlan spoke again, his voice dropped, the words meant for Yuche alone.

"You’re standing very close to the edge," he murmured softly, almost conversationally.

Yuche’s focus flickered for a split second. Not away from the wall, but not entirely on it either.

Zhenlan leaned in slightly, just enough that his next words brushed against the edge of Yuche’s awareness, like he was whispering in the other man’s ear. "A sudden gust of wind..." he continued softly, almost thoughtfully, "and you could fall down into that ocean of zombies."

Another zombie climbed higher and Yuche fired without looking away. Just like the others, it body dropped.

"No one would find you," Zhenlan finished, his tone calm, measured, and completely without emotion. "My secret would be safe. After all... dead men tell no tales... right?"

The words hadn’t fully settled before it happened.

The air shifted.

Not subtly.

Not naturally.

A sudden gust of wind wrapped around the rooftop, sharp and violent, striking without warning. It slammed into Yuche from the side, catching him off balance at the worst possible angle.

His footing slipped, the shift subtle at first before it turned into something far more dangerous. The rubber of his shoe scraped against the concrete, failing to catch properly as his balance gave way under the sudden force.

Just enough.

His body tilted toward the edge, his center of gravity dragging forward in a way that felt slow and immediate at the same time. For a split second, there was nothing beneath him but open air and the distant street below, the drop pulling at him before his body could react.

Yuche’s hand shot out instinctively, catching the concrete barrier before he could tip over completely. His breath hitched as his weight slammed into his arm, the jolt snapping him back just enough to keep him from going over.

For a second, neither of them moved.

Yuche steadied himself slowly, his grip tightening against the rough surface as his balance returned inch by inch. His chest rose sharply as he pulled himself back into a stable stance, his pulse spiking in a way that had nothing to do with the zombies below.

Then he turned.

Slowly.

His eyes met Zhenlan’s.

Both of them understood what had just happened.

The wind had died as suddenly as it had come.

Leaving nothing behind but silence.

And the realization that it hadn’t been an accident.

Yuche stared at him for half a second longer, his expression shifting from shock to something sharper, more focused, even as the situation around them hadn’t changed.

Below them, the climb continued.

Behind them, the tapping at the door resumed.

But for that moment—none of it mattered.

"Do we have an understanding?" purred Zhenlan. "Don’t step on my bottom line or you will see just how dirty my hands really are."