No one touched Wang Li's body for a long time.
It lay where it fell, a silent warning in the middle of the cafeteria floor. The survivors kept their distance, eyes shifting between the corpse and Lin Hao.
Fear had changed direction.
It was no longer aimed only at the infected.
Now it was aimed at the one who had killed without hesitation.
Lin Hao didn't care.
Or rather—
Cold Heart made it easier not to care.
He stood near the edge of the room, fire extinguisher still in hand, and watched everything.
The cafeteria had divided itself without anyone saying a word.
Near the kitchen entrance stood Zhao Quan and the people who had clearly fallen in behind him. Five of them. Armed. Tense. Used to taking cues from strength.
Near the supply pile stood Sun Mei and two injured students she had been treating. The faint green light from her hands had vanished now, but the memory of it still lingered in everyone's mind. A useful skill. A rare skill.
The rest stayed in the middle.
Too weak to lead.
Too afraid to choose.
Chen Yu was kneeling beside Wang Li's body, staring at the floor in silence. She had not cried.
That somehow made it worse.
Liu Ming had already moved toward the walls, quietly checking exits, windows, and blind spots. Not helping. Not grieving.
Calculating.
A man like that was dangerous in any world.
In this one, he might become deadly.
Zhao Quan finally spoke.
"Move the body outside."
No one answered.
He looked around the room, then at Lin Hao.
"You killed him. You move him."
Lin Hao met his gaze.
"No."
Several people stiffened.
Zhao Quan's eyes narrowed. "You got a problem with that?"
Lin Hao glanced once at Wang Li's corpse.
"He turned. I killed him. That was enough."
The room stayed silent.
The answer was cold.
Too cold for some of them.
Exactly cold enough for others.
Zhao Quan stepped forward. "In this place, corpses attract fear. Fear causes panic. Panic gets people killed."
Lin Hao replied without raising his voice. "Then tell your people to move it."
The tray in Zhao Quan's hand shimmered faintly again.
The metal rippled like disturbed water before settling.
A warning.
Not yet an attack.
Interesting.
So the transformed weapon wasn't instant. It needed intent. Focus. Maybe stamina too.
Lin Hao stored that away.
Before Zhao Quan could answer, Chen Yu stood up.
"I'll do it."
Heads turned.
She looked pale, but her voice held.
"He was with us. We'll move him."
Lin Hao looked at her for one second.
Then he crouched, grabbed Wang Li's shoulder, and lifted without another word.
Chen Yu took the legs.
Together, they carried the body through the side service door near the kitchen and left it in the rain-dark courtyard beyond.
The sky above Beijing remained silent.
No thunder.
No stars.
Only a heavy, empty darkness.
For a moment, Chen Yu stood there with her arms wrapped around herself.
"He wasn't a good person," she said quietly.
Lin Hao said nothing.
"He was loud. Reckless. Annoying." Her voice tightened. "But he didn't run."
Still, Lin Hao said nothing.
Chen Yu laughed once, bitter and short. "You really are cold."
Lin Hao looked at the body lying in the dark courtyard.
"If I wasn't," he said, "I'd be dead too."
She didn't answer that.
When they returned inside, the cafeteria had shifted again.
People had moved.
Sides were forming.
Some survivors had drifted toward Zhao Quan. Others had edged closer to Sun Mei, instinctively gathering near the healer. A few stayed alone, clutching stolen food and watching everyone like cornered animals.
Resources had become visible now.
Boxes of instant noodles.
Bottled water.
Kitchen knives.
Blankets.
Two first-aid kits.
One room.
Too many people.
Not enough trust.
Zhao Quan stood near the supply pile when Lin Hao came back.
"This place already has rules," he said.
Lin Hao stopped a few steps away.
"What rules?"
"No stealing. No starting fights. Food and water are rationed." Zhao Quan lifted the tray in his hand slightly. "And if someone gets infected, they die before they turn."
"That last one sounds familiar," Liu Ming said from the wall.
Several people looked uncomfortable.
Zhao Quan ignored him.
He kept his eyes on Lin Hao.
"You and your people can stay," he said, "if you follow the rules."
Lin Hao's gaze moved to the supplies behind him.
Not yours.
Not yet.
But he didn't say that aloud.
Instead, he asked, "Who made you leader?"
A few survivors lowered their heads.
Others looked away.
That was answer enough.
Zhao Quan smiled without warmth. "The one with the weapon usually leads."
At that, a skinny boy near the tables suddenly lifted his trembling hand.
"I—I have one too."
The room turned.
The boy swallowed hard and snapped his fingers.
A spark jumped between them.
Tiny.
Weak.
Gone almost immediately.
Fire.
A real skill.
Someone in the back gasped.
Zhao Quan's eyes flickered.
Sun Mei looked surprised too.
The boy's face flushed with fear. "I… I can't control it well."
Zhao Quan gave a short nod. "Then learn."
Lin Hao watched carefully.
That answer was smart.
No threat. No challenge. No insult.
Just enough approval to keep the boy from drifting elsewhere.
So Zhao Quan wasn't just a thug.
He understood influence.
Good.
That made him more dangerous.
Then Sun Mei spoke from beside the injured students.
"We need order. But not fear."
Zhao Quan looked at her. "Fear keeps people obedient."
Sun Mei shook her head. "Fear makes them desperate."
"And desperate people follow strength," Zhao Quan replied.
Liu Ming let out a quiet laugh from the wall. "You two are saying the same thing with different words."
The room tensed again.
Lin Hao looked around the cafeteria.
He saw the weak points.
The kitchen entrance.
The side door.
The blind spots between tables.
The people who would fight.
The people who would betray.
The people who would kneel if pressure became great enough.
Then he saw something else.
A young woman near the window, maybe nineteen, holding a broken fruit knife. Her hands were shaking badly—but not from fear alone.
Her gaze kept flicking toward the noodle boxes.
Hungry.
Too hungry.
A thief waiting for a chance.
The world had only ended hours ago, and already hunger was doing its work.
Zhao Quan raised his voice just enough for the room to hear.
"We divide water first. Then food. No one touches the kitchen without permission."
The young woman moved.
Fast.
Too fast for someone who should have been that exhausted.
She lunged toward the supply pile, snatched two noodle packs, and turned toward the side tables.
A movement skill.
Short burst.
Primitive rank, probably.
Zhao Quan reacted instantly.
His tray flashed and became a jagged blade.
He took one step—
Then Lin Hao moved too.
Not to stop the woman.
To intercept the fight.
Blood Rush.
The new skill activated like a kick through his nerves.
For ten seconds, the world snapped backward.
Not slower—
he was faster.
He crossed the distance in a blur, slammed the extinguisher down in front of the fleeing woman, and blocked the path between her and Zhao Quan.
The entire cafeteria froze.
The woman staggered back, clutching the stolen food, eyes wide.
Zhao Quan stopped with his blade half-raised.
And everyone saw it.
Lin Hao had just moved faster than anyone in the room.
Too fast for a normal body.
Too fast to be ignored.
His chest tightened as the stamina cost hit him.
So that was the price.
Worth remembering.
"No killing over two packs of noodles," Lin Hao said.
The woman stared at him.
Zhao Quan's eyes narrowed. "Move."
Lin Hao didn't.
"She stole food," Zhao Quan said.
"And if you kill her for it," Lin Hao replied, "the room breaks tonight."
A long silence followed.
Everyone understood what he meant.
If Zhao Quan killed her, fear would spike.
Then theft.
Then hiding.
Then factions.
Then collapse.
Too early.
Too wasteful.
Sun Mei spoke softly, but the whole room heard her.
"He's right."
Zhao Quan looked at her.
Then at the woman.
Then at Lin Hao.
Slowly, the blade in his hand softened back into a tray.
The immediate danger passed.
For now.
Lin Hao bent down, picked up one of the dropped noodle packs, and tossed it back toward the supply pile.
Then he looked at the woman.
"One pack," he said. "You keep one. You steal again, no one will stop him next time."
She nodded so quickly it looked painful.
Then she backed away, still shaking.
The room exhaled as one.
Not peace.
Never peace.
But delay.
And sometimes, in a collapsing world, delay was survival.
Zhao Quan studied Lin Hao for several seconds.
"You like interfering."
Lin Hao answered calmly, "You like ruling too early."
Zhao Quan gave a dry laugh.
That, more than anything else, unsettled the room.
Because it sounded less like anger—
and more like recognition.
Two predators had just seen each other clearly for the first time.
And neither had looked away.