In that instant, a storm of thoughts flashed through Jing Shu's mind. She instantly understood what Wang Dongpo's warning meant. The massive earthquake today had forced survivors from two entire districts into this park, and now every resource was stretched thin. No wonder they were testing the waters first.
Her brain spun at full speed, running through different possibilities. She even braced herself for the likelihood that she'd be forced to bleed a little today.
Humans are such strange creatures. There was a saying online: I hate drivers who cut me off, but I also hate drivers who won't let me cut in.
In her past life, she'd been among the weak, always thinking the rich deserved to be stripped of their wealth. In this life, she'd become half a rich person herself, and now that she was facing the risk of being "stripped," she couldn't help feeling annoyed.
Different positions, different perspectives.
Standing at the doorway, facing all those scrutinizing eyes, some curious, some doubtful, Jing Shu studied them in return.
The U-shaped desk in the middle held two big shots.
The first wore sunglasses, a pale, skinny man in his thirties. His police uniform draped over him like an oversized robe. His most striking feature was a sharp, hooked nose that gave him a severe, commanding presence. With the shades on, she couldn't see his eyes, but from the way his head was angled, it was clear he was sizing her up from above.
The second was also in his thirties, but plump and smiling. His face was round and ruddy, and when he grinned his eyes squeezed into thin slits. His police uniform was stretched tight over his belly, every breath making the seams groan.
On both sides of the U-shaped desk sat all kinds of people. A noblewoman in a mink coat, a farmer in a heavy army greatcoat, young men and women in trendy down jackets. Compared to the average survivor, they were clearly better off, still able to keep long hair and dress decently. But with a whole row of armed police standing behind them, every single one of them sat still as quail, too afraid to twitch.
"This must be Miss Jing from VIP No. 3," the plump officer finally broke the silence with a smile. "Come, please take this seat, the third one over here. I've got to say, Miss Jing, your outfit's… certainly unique, haha."
She walked down the long aisle, feeling the icy pressure of Chinese-made rifles aimed at her back. She had no doubt that if today's talks went wrong, those rifles would spit bullets without hesitation.
Her seat was close to the plump officer. By traditional standards, it was indeed a place of honor, representing status. But with her wearing a gas mask and thick padded clothes, the contrast was absurd.
She glanced at the two men sitting at the very front.
The first seat belonged to an elderly man, easily in his eighties or nineties, with a goatee. A felt hat sat on his head, a brazier by his feet. Eyes closed, yawning, he swayed as if half asleep, though no one dared disturb him.
The second was occupied by a man in an immaculate all-white suit. White fedora, polished white leather shoes that practically shone with reflected light. He looked like he'd stepped out of another world, the faint perfume around him out of place in the apocalypse.
Honestly, Jing Shu had never seen such arrogance even before the end times. But Wu City was in the north, and northern folk weren't known for modesty. There was a saying: In the south, you can't tell who's rich. In the north, you can't tell who's poor. People here loved showing off.
As she sat, the man in white toyed with his long, pale fingers and gave her a lazy once-over. Then he clicked his tongue and shifted back with open disdain. Her gas mask and bulky winter outfit must've ruined his refined aesthetic.
Jing Shu: "…"
The plump officer stood, grinning wide enough to split his face. "Everyone, relax. Really, we're just here to do a simple survey. Now that we're all gathered, allow me to introduce myself. I'm the captain of the third squad. You can call me Captain Yan, Yan as in the King of Hell."
Despite his smile, there was a chill in his voice that cut like ice.
"This here is Captain Wang. Together, we're the legendary King Yan duo, haha." His belly jiggled as he laughed, but the silence in the shabby meeting room was suffocating. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat. "Alright, let's get down to business. Truth is, this is for everyone's benefit. Took me ages to get this approved. It's a win-win deal."
Jing Shu leaned back, warming her hands on a heat pack, her legs crossed and swinging. She looked like a middle-aged aunt sitting through a lecture, nibbling on a Dove chocolate. The slow melt and rich sweetness made it her favorite way to pass the time.
If she could, she'd collect cocoa seeds and grow them herself. Who knew if cocoa trees even still existed after Earth's Dark Days? With cocoa powder, she could make tiramisu. But what she missed most were those silky Dove bars, Snickers, truffles, and crunchy rice chocolates.
The plump officer had already unbuttoned his straining uniform. "Since the world ended, everyone here's obviously capable and well-off. Otherwise, you wouldn't be spending virtual coins to live in VIP lanes. But I'm sure you've all faced the same problem: you've got supplies, but no matching armed power. That's not safe, is it?"
Someone muttered, "We don't really have that much stuff. If something happens, can't we just rely on the police?"
The plump officer gave a polite but strained smile and nudged the man with the hooked nose.
There was a sudden bang that silenced the room. The thin officer spoke in a flat voice. "Liu Xianran, male, 42. Robbed three times in 2023. In 2024, lost over 500 kilos (1,000 jin) of corn. Known as the sheep of the robbery world."
The man in the crowd coughed a few times and shut up.
The plump officer patted his belly and let out a relieved sigh. "See? Armed strength matters. In the past, China banned private guns because of necessity. Now, in the apocalypse, policies have opened up. You can own guns, but they must be registered and licensed with us. Come, load those rifles and show our guests."
Clack clack!
The line of officers moved in unison. With a crisp snap, rifles were raised, barrels aimed directly at Jing Shu and the others, who suddenly felt very much like lambs waiting for slaughter.
The display was so neat and precise that the entire room fell into a deathly quiet.
===
His surname is "Yan" (阎). In Chinese culture, 阎王 (Yan Wang) means the King of Hell, the judge of the underworld who controls life and death. So when he says, "Call me Captain Yan, Yan as in King of Hell," he's making a pun that emphasizes both his real name and the terror it implies.
Contrast with His Partner (Captain Wang):
Together they call themselves the "King Yan Duo." This self-made nickname plays off folklore, giving them an aura of mythic authority. Wang is plump and outwardly friendly, Yan is thin and severe, so they're a kind of good cop–bad cop pair.