Many people still hadn't grasped the horror of zombies.
Some didn't even know such things existed... If they waited until the threat became undeniable to start fighting back, it would be far too late.
More than seven hundred residents remained in the complex. If they were all infected…
The thought of hundreds of zombies surrounding his villa made even Miles break into a cold sweat, despite knowing his fortress was safe.
Ryan shared his apprehension, but he quickly steeled himself. "Miles, honestly, anyone would be scared in this situation. But you've done so much for me—I owe you my life. Just tell me what to do."
Better to take a chance than die trapped.
This was Ryan's mindset now.
Miles spoke earnestly. "I'm planning to gather a group of residents, to have them organized to fight the zombies. You'll be leading them."
Ryan hesitated. "But these are elite professionals. Why would they listen to me?"
The residents of Cloudtop Heights were, at minimum, corporate executives. How could someone who'd barely finished grade school expect to lead them?
"Elites, my foot."
Miles chuckled bitterly. "Those people haven't eaten for days. They're at their breaking point. Offer them a bite to eat, and they'd even follow you on a leash."
True.
Right now, food was the real status symbol. Whoever had a meal held all the power.
Ryan's confidence grew. "Alright. You can count on me."
With the residents on board, fighting zombies would be less dangerous. Though Ryan wasn't a manager, he understood that in risky situations, others should take the lead.
Miles understood this well, which is why he chose Ryan to go first.
One could safeguard oneself, and it was time for Ryan to repay his trust.
Miles opened his phone and posted a photo in the residents' group chat.
"Miles just sent a message!"
Many saw the photo and fell silent in disbelief.
It was a paradise.
In the photo, Miles sat on a sofa in shorts. Behind him, the wall thermometer displayed a mind-blowing temperature: 30°C.
Yes, 30—above zero.
Unbelievable.
Since the Ice Age had begun, ground-level temperatures had hovered around -20°C at best. Indoor temperatures had plummeted to -30°C.
But here, in Miles's villa, it was warm and inviting.
For the starving, freezing residents, nothing was more desirable than warmth and a mouthful of food.
How did he manage it?
Before they could voice their disbelief, a second photo appeared.
It showed a table piled with a feast: lobster, steak, ham hocks, chicken, duck, and fish, and even two whole, golden-roasted turkeys.
"How could he have this much food?"
"And it's all fresh! If I could have just one meal like that, I'd die happy."
"If someone offered me that table, I'd do anything."
Female residents shamelessly tagged Miles, flirtations barely veiled, and some men weren't far behind: "Miles, do you like men?"
"If you just give me a bite, I'm yours."
The residents of Cloudtop Heights had once been people of wealth and taste, but desperation had obliterated their dignity. The contrast between Miles's luxury and their starvation was maddening.
Many had already starved to death, and violent incidents broke out over moldy bread. That table of food was nothing short of paradise.
Miles could almost hear their gasps through his phone.
Then, he spoke: "I've got too much food here. It'd be a waste to let it spoil."
What?
The residents were livid. Was he really considering throwing it away?
"Please, Miles, just toss it. I'll be waiting by the door!"
"Throw it to me… I'd even take a bone!"
"I'll settle for a drop of broth…"
When Miles saw the desperation was at a peak, he added a voice message: "I don't mind giving you some, but with all these mouths to feed, there might not be enough to go around…"
Then came a message from Anthony: "Miles, it's me, Anthony—Andrew's old lieutenant. Andrew's dead, and if you give me something to eat, I'll pledge myself to you."
Although Miles wasn't short on food, he couldn't risk going out.
Anthony's meaning was clear: he wanted to switch allegiance.
Miles smirked. "So, you already know Andrew's mutated?"
Since Anthony had killed Andrew, he must be aware of his transformation, which saved Miles from explaining it to the others.
Anthony quickly replied, "Yes. This morning, Andrew suddenly came back to life, moving like some kind of zombie. No matter what we did, he wouldn't stay down."
The memory still terrified him. If not for his two remaining comrades, who'd managed to force Andrew out, they would have been slaughtered.
The other residents were horrified—Andrew had mutated?
Into what, exactly?
Knowing they were confused, Miles explained, "This morning, Andrew transformed into something powerful—a zombie. And this isn't isolated; there are likely many similar cases across the city, people either mutating or falling to infection."
"These zombies are ferociously aggressive, attacking anything living. And anyone bitten either dies or mutates into another zombie."
"If we want to survive, we have to unite against them, or we'll all eventually be infected or killed."
Then, Miles posted a photo of the transformed Andrew.
Andrew's corpse was riddled with bullet holes, his eyes clouded white, and his body covered in dark, sickly veins—a sight that made the residents recoil in horror.
"This can't be real. Zombies only exist in movies!"
Miles sent another voice message: "Why not? This catastrophe was caused by the explosion of a distant planet, unleashing powerful cosmic radiation. Don't underestimate the effects of such radiation."
Most of the residents had received higher education, and it dawned on them, as chilling comprehension settled in.