Chapter Fifty-One: Let Her Go, or I Will Kill You Twice!

Without turning around, Zhao Qiang could hear the sound of the safety being switched off on a gun. He slowly turned to face Ma Tianxiong, who was holding Zou Lin in one arm and gripping a Type 64 pistol in the other, his face twisted with rage as he aimed at Zhao Qiang.

“Looking for someone?” Ma Tianxiong’s hand trembled slightly as he held the gun. His sleeves were rolled up, and on his hairy forearm, two rows of bloody bite marks stood out. A large chunk of flesh had been torn away, and fresh blood was dripping steadily along his arm.

“Let’s talk, don’t get agitated, Brother Ma,” Zhao Qiang said calmly, raising both hands. His eyes were fixed on Ma Tianxiong’s gun hand, and he felt the pistol tucked into his waistband behind him—the safety was off, ready to fire at any moment.

“You, and that bitch, you two ruined everything here. Everything I had is gone. And you tell me not to get agitated?” Brother Ma was nearly hysterical. All his underlings had turned into flesh-eating zombies, and he’d been unlucky enough to get bitten himself. All of it, thanks to this fat man before him.

Zhao Qiang snorted coldly. “Everything you had? Feeding live people to zombies—that’s what you call everything?” With that, he took a step forward.

“Don’t come any closer!” Ma Tianxiong shouted nervously, tightening his grip on Zou Lin’s neck. “These people were saved by me, I can deal with them however I want. Even the police left me alone, and you—why the hell are you meddling?”

Zhao Qiang took another step forward, then stopped and pointed at Zou Lin. “This is between us men. Why are you holding a woman? Let her go, and we settle this one-on-one.”

Ma Tianxiong alternated his aim between Zou Lin’s head and Zhao Qiang. “That bitch blew up my generator, I won’t forgive her! And you, fat bastard, don’t think you can fool me—you play dumb, but you’re a threat. You want to take me on alone?”

“Brother Qiang, run, leave me!” Zou Lin struggled desperately against Ma Tianxiong’s grip, but couldn’t break free. At last, she managed a breath to speak.

Hearing Zou Lin’s voice, Zhao Qiang’s expression softened considerably. “It’s alright. As long as I’m here, everything will be fine.” He comforted Zou Lin, then his face hardened again as he looked at Ma Tianxiong. “Let her go. I’ll kill you only once. Otherwise, I’ll kill you twice.”

Ma Tianxiong burst out laughing, raised his gun, and fired at Zhao Qiang, who collapsed instantly. “You? Kill me twice? Ha!” Seeing his shot hit and the fat man fall, Ma Tianxiong’s mood brightened.

He flung Zou Lin aside, no longer needing her as a hostage, since the fragile woman posed no threat to him.

“Brother Qiang!” Freed, Zou Lin cried and threw herself onto Zhao Qiang. She had seen the bullet pierce his chest with her own eyes, and now she wept as if her heart would break.

“Get out of the way!” Ma Tianxiong kicked Zou Lin aside, then swaggered over and kicked Zhao Qiang’s body twice. Seeing no reaction, he grew bolder, launching a flurry of kicks at Zhao Qiang while cursing, “Serves you right! That’s what you get for being cocky!”

Zou Lin refused to stand by. Even if he was dead, she would not allow anyone to insult her savior’s corpse. With her hair wild and disregarding the gun in Ma Tianxiong’s hand, she attacked like an enraged lioness, clawing and biting him. For a moment, even someone like Ma Tianxiong couldn’t handle her.

But she was only a woman; despite her furious assault, it was little more than an annoyance. Ma Tianxiong, already exhilarated from his victory, grew angry at her antics. With a shove, he sent Zou Lin flying like a broken kite.

“Bitch, you’re asking for it. You really think I won’t kill you?” Ma Tianxiong raised his gun, aiming at the struggling Zou Lin on the ground. He was hopeless now—he knew better than anyone what happened after a zombie bite. The others who dared defy him had all been turned into zombies by his own hand.

“Ma, if you have the guts, kill me! You killed Brother Qiang, I’ll fight you to the end!” Zou Lin spat through clenched teeth, her eyes blazing with hatred, wild-haired like a lioness on the African savanna.

A gunshot rang out. Ma Tianxiong’s eyes widened in disbelief as he slowly turned, then collapsed, blood gushing from the bullet hole in his heart.

When the shot fired, Zou Lin closed her eyes, prepared for death. But moments passed, and she felt no pain. Was she already dead? Puzzled, she opened her eyes. The scene was familiar: Ma Tianxiong lay lifeless on the ground, and in the shadows untouched by the firelight stood a slightly plump figure holding a gun, gazing at her with gentle, familiar eyes.

Zou Lin pinched her cheek hard. Ouch! She wasn’t dreaming—she was alive! Overwhelmed with joy, she somehow found the strength to leap to her feet and rush to that familiar figure.

“Brother Qiang!” Zou Lin threw her arms around him in the darkness. “You scared me to death!”

Zhao Qiang gently patted her back, whispering comfort. “I told you, as long as I’m here, everything will be fine.”

“But weren’t you shot dead? How are you alive?” Zou Lin’s tear-streaked face was pure and fresh, like a gardenia blossom after the storm.

“What, you wish I were dead?” Zhao Qiang brushed the lingering tears from her face, teasing her.

Zou Lin blushed, realizing her words were wrong. “I didn’t mean that, Brother Qiang. I saw you get shot—if anything happened to you, I wouldn’t want to live, either.”

Zhao Qiang laughed, helped Zou Lin sit down, lifted his shirt, and tapped the bulletproof vest underneath. “Silly girl, see this? If I died so easily, I wouldn’t have survived till now.”

Zou Lin had no idea he was only reassuring her. The bullet had felt like a sledgehammer to the chest, and Zhao Qiang was grateful for his preparation—wearing the vest when he entered the bar. Even so, the shot had been rough; if not for his recent training boosting his resilience, he might have been knocked out cold, and then subjected to Zou Lin’s desperate hugs. Cold sweat broke out on his back.

Seeing the vest, Zou Lin finally relaxed, sticking out her tongue and falling silent. Her mind was awash with chaotic thoughts: Zhao Qiang had saved her again, what would happen next, fantasies of white knights, scenes from movies where the protagonists embrace after danger. The terrifying events just moments before were already forgotten.

As Zou Lin daydreamed, a pair of strong hands pulled her up from the ground. She looked up to find Zhao Qiang’s slightly plump face close to hers, his breath plainly audible. Is he going to kiss me? Zou Lin, coming out of her reverie, felt her breathing quicken, eyes half-closed, lips parted, ready to be kissed.

“You wait for me at the door, I’ll be right there,” Zhao Qiang said coolly, as if unaware of her expression.

“Ah!” Zou Lin exclaimed, realizing she’d misunderstood him. The expected moment didn’t happen, and she felt disappointed. In the darkness, her face flushed scarlet to her neck, ears burning, afraid Zhao Qiang would notice her embarrassment. She quickly agreed and hurried out.

Once her silhouette disappeared at the door, Zhao Qiang turned to Ma Tianxiong. Blood had ceased to flow from the wound in Ma Tianxiong’s chest. Zhao Qiang bent down, took the pistol from his hand, and stared coldly at the corpse, which suddenly began to twitch.

Ma Tianxiong rose again, but nothing had changed except his eyes, now dull and lifeless, and his throat emitted a guttural, hoarse growl.

“I told you, let her go—or I’ll kill you twice.” With those words, Zhao Qiang raised the gun.