Lang Yao’s figure gradually disappeared into the dense forest. His steps remained steady, but his face twisted more and more with each stride.
After being thrown out by those fools, he had no choice but to return to his forr base, East River Base.
But the mont the thought of facing his lord surfaced, a cold shiver slid down his spine. His eyes darkened instantly.
How was he going to explain?
What reason could possibly justify his failure? And how could he explain that he was discovered by that bitch? Lang Yao gritted his teeth. If he could, he would have torn apart that bitch who pretended to be magnanimous and had made him lose face.
What he said was truth. It’s not like he was lying. He only raised a genuine concern, but the bitch painted him in a bad light and even instigated people to throw him out of the base.
Sha surged through his chest like a venomous tide. It wrapped around his heart like a poisonous snake, suffocating and bitter. He could still hear the iron gate clanging shut behind him, still see it sneering at his pathetic state.
But then—
He suddenly stopped walking.
His brows drew together. A flicker of sothing flashed in his eyes.
A single thought crept into his mind like a drop of icy water sliding down his spine. It didn’t freeze him, but it woke him up. And strangely, it made his lips twitch.
By the way... he could shift the bla.
He could say... it was that person.
That dog.
That so-called "ally" he once trusted. The one who had clearly leaked their mission plan to the Dawn Base and sold himself to that base for a few mouthfuls of food.
"I was just dragged into it... I was unlucky, too naive."
The expression on his face twisted again. This ti it wasn’t sha—it was cruelty. Cold and calculating. The corners of his lips curled up like a venomous snake that had swallowed its prey but still lingered, waiting for the next.
"When the ti cos... I just need to speak pitifully, speak sincerely."
He laughed softly, voice like poisoned silk.
"Why would that lord ever doubt ?"
His fingers flexed slowly. He raised his head to the sky and laughed like a madman. Now he no longer had to be worried about the punishnt from his lord.
"In that case..." he whispered, voice low and dangerous, "let’s send that dog off first. He’s been an eyesore for too long."
"Kill two birds with one stone... isn’t that perfect?"
His lips curved into a rciless grin. In his mind, he could already see it—the old friend who had once stood beside him, now crawling alone through the mud, begging for help in the middle of a cold, dark night.
And no one coming to save him. He would kill him before he could reach East Base, and dead people tell no tales.
Lang Yao took another step toward the East with an eased expression. Now he could freely go to the East River Base and act according to his plan. Everything would go smoothly. He only had to make sure that dog would not be able to co back alive.
anwhile, in the Dawn Base, the tension from earlier had long dissipated, and the people moved around with light steps, as though a heavy burden had finally been lifted from their hearts.
Laughter could be heard from the canteen. A few children ran around near the farming plots, and the scent of cooked at drifted lazily through the air.
But amidst the calm, a man within the thinning crowd suddenly stopped.
His back went rigid, and a chill ran down his spine.
He shuddered, eyes narrowing as he slowly turned to glance over his shoulder.
No one was behind him. Everyone looked normal. Strange—then why did he feel murderous intent?
There was no one behind him. Just a few other survivors walking toward the canteen, chatting casually. Nothing suspicious at all.
But the feeling didn’t go away.
A lingering sense of unease clawed at him, as though sothing or soone was planning bad for him... after all, his senses never lied.
He had always been sharp, but ever since the second rain, sothing inside him had changed. At first, he thought it was just instinct or paranoia from surviving too long in the apocalypse. But over ti, he realized—he could sense it. Not danger exactly, but malice.
A sharp chill crawling up his spine whenever soone looked at him with bad intentions. Sotis, he even caught faint glimpses of what might happen—not images, but feelings—an unease that tightened his gut before sothing went wrong. It wasn’t strong. It didn’t always co. But it had saved his life more than once.
"...Was that a warning?" he murmured under his breath, almost inaudibly.
His na was Jin Song, and he wasn’t a real mber of this base.
He had co here one week ago, blending into a group of wandering survivors, claiming to have lost his family during a beast stampede. His story had been full of sorrow and despair, and no one questioned it. He had even made his face look thinner on purpose, saring fake blood and dust to look more pitiful. He had been well-trained for this.
After all, Jin Song was a loyal follower of the East River Base. More specifically, he worked under East River Base’s secret division—a group tasked with infiltration, manipulation, and espionage.
His mission had been simple:
Gather intel on this rising new base.
Discover the leader’s weaknesses.
Spread rumors to incite fear and division.
Slowly erode their trust in each other and in their leader.
And finally, pave the way for East River Base to either take control—or destroy.
And at first, it had seed easy.
But everything changed once he stepped inside the gates.
The first thing that shook him wasn’t the defenses. It wasn’t the patrols or the surveillance. It wasn’t even the awoken guards stationed by every corner.
It was the sll.
The delicious, fragrant scent of real at—tender, seasoned, freshly roasted.
It wafted through the streets twice a day like clockwork, and even the ordinary civilians—those with no awakened powers—were eating at with vegetables. Not wild weeds or those gray tasteless rations they got in East River Base.
Here... even the children had proper soup.
He rembered the first ti they let him into the canteen. He had sat down at a shared table with a bowl of rice, stir-fried mutated vegetable greens, and a thick slice of grilled beast at marinated with salt and spices.
The at had crisp skin and juicy flesh. It lted in his mouth.
He had cried after taking the first bite.
He didn’t even realize it at the ti, but he had. His body had cried for kindness. His stomach had wept for rcy.
In East River Base, only those closest to the lord got to eat at all, and even then, the at was unwashed, rubbery, and often rotting inside. They were forced to eat mutated beast organs, barely boiled, their tongues always coated with a bitter tallic aftertaste.
Ordinary civilians were worse off—they picked wild roots, dirty grasses, and polluted weeds just to survive.
And still, they were punished for wasting ti.
But here...
Jin Song looked around again.
A child waved at him with a toothy grin. A young girl handed him a stead bun because he looked "sad". An old farr invited him to the greenhouse tour next morning.
This base... this wasn’t just for surviving.
It was a dream.
Every passing day, it beca harder to rember his original goal. At first, he thought he was just getting used to the environnt. But the more he watched, the more he felt it:
Respect.
The people here genuinely respected their leader... Miss Liora.
Not out of fear, but admiration.
She didn’t sit on a throne. She didn’t order punishnts for minor mistakes. She walked the base like an ordinary person. She ate with them. She listened to reports personally. She rembered nas.
One night, he had seen her carry an injured girl on her back all the way from the forest field to the clinic.
And when she passed by him, she had looked straight at him and smiled.
That single smile had broken sothing inside him.
He wasn’t sure what it was.
Maybe his loyalty.
Maybe his guilt.
Maybe... both.
He looked down at his hands. Rough, scarred, and calloused from years of hard work. Once, he had served the East River Lord proudly. But now—
Was this what he had been protecting all those years? Just to live like a dog and eat filth?
He clenched his fists.
He didn’t know what the chill earlier ant. But it was like a thread snapping in his mind. A connection severing.
He could no longer return.
If Lang Yao had been thrown out... that ant the others might follow. And if Lang Yao ever revealed his na...
"No," he whispered to himself.
He had to choose.
He couldn’t stay neutral forever.
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