Zhu Jiu pushed open the heavy steel door and stepped into the makeshift prison.
The room was dimly lit, almost pitch black, with no light source except for the faint glow from the hallway that crept in through the door. For most, it would have been impossible to see, but Zhu Jiu's heightened senses enabled him to discern everything clearly.
The room had been fortified under Zhang Xinyu's supervision, transformed from an ordinary classroom into a nearly impenetrable cell. Breaking out would be no small feat—Zhu Jiu himself would struggle to breach it without significant effort. For the prisoner inside, escape was a pipe dream.
"You're finally here," a cold voice greeted him.
Zhao Feng was shackled to the wall, his wrists and ankles bound by thick metal cuffs. These weren't just ordinary restraints—they were Fatty's handiwork, crafted with precision and designed to hold even the strongest individuals. Without Fatty's unique ability or brute force far beyond what Zhao Feng possessed, escape was impossible.
"You know why I'm here."
Zhu Jiu pulled up a chair and sat down, his gaze locking onto Zhao Feng.
"You knew about the apocalypse long before it happened. Your family prepared in advance. How did you find out? And why didn't you warn the world?"
This was the question that had been gnawing at him.
Why had the knowledge been hidden? What benefit could anyone gain from keeping the impending end of the world a secret?
Zhao Feng smirked, his arrogance undiminished despite his captivity.
"Didn't warn the world?" He scoffed. "How naive can you be?"
The disdain in his tone was palpable. "I expected more from you, Zhu Jiu. Even if your Zhu family isn't one of the great clans, you're still part of a martial lineage. I assumed you'd know at least some of the truth. But it seems I overestimated you."
Zhao Feng leaned forward slightly, the chains rattling as he moved.
"Why didn't we warn the world? Because we had nothing to gain from it," he said, his lips curling into a sneer.
"And let me correct your ignorance: the apocalypse wasn't a secret. It was never truly hidden. We just told the right people."
He paused, savoring the moment before continuing.
"Do you think it's a coincidence that someone like Gale, the world's richest man, spends 20% of his fortune building underground shelters every year? Is he just bored with his money?"
"What about the Northern Nation's Doomsday Club? Ever heard of it? A society of the world's wealthiest elites, pooling resources and knowledge to secure their survival when the time comes. They hold monthly meetings, pour billions into research. Why? Because they know."
"And that's just the wealthy commoners," Zhao Feng added with a derisive chuckle. "Then there are the governments. You think those national reserves, fortified facilities, and endless drills are just for show?"
His voice grew more venomous as he leaned back against the wall.
"And us? The ancient martial families? Our influence extends far deeper than you could imagine. Individually, we're forces to be reckoned with. United, we're an unstoppable power."
"The truth was never hidden, Zhu Jiu. The people who mattered were told. The ones who weren't? They're just the sheep—ordinary fools like you. The disposable masses."
Zhu Jiu's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening as Zhao Feng spoke.
"And why keep it from the masses?" he asked, his voice low and steady.
"Why?" Zhao Feng laughed harshly, the sound grating in the enclosed space. "You really need me to spell it out? Fine."
"This apocalypse isn't something that can be stopped. Even the most powerful governments are barely managing to survive. Do you think telling the world would've helped? You think it would've inspired action? No, Zhu Jiu—it would've caused chaos."
His grin widened, his tone dripping with disdain.
"And honestly, what difference does it make if the masses know? Whether they live or die means nothing to us. When you step into the realm of evolution, when you become one of the strong, do you still think of ordinary people as your equals? No. They're a different species altogether."
"Ordinary humans. Infected. Evolvers. Three distinct species. You'll figure that out eventually."
The room fell silent as Zhao Feng's words hung heavily in the air.
Zhu Jiu's expression grew colder by the second, his hands tightening into fists.
"Three distinct species?" he asked, his tone icy. "What do you mean by that?"
Zhao Feng smirked, shrugging as much as his restraints allowed. "It means exactly what it sounds like."
He tilted his head, a mocking glint in his eyes. "I've already given you plenty for free. If you want more, you'll have to meet my demands."
Zhao Feng's arrogance burned brighter than ever as he leaned forward, his voice taking on a condescending edge.
"Curious what my demands are?"
He let out a bark of laughter, his confidence unshaken despite his position.
But Zhu Jiu didn't bite.
He rose from his chair, casting one last icy glance at Zhao Feng before turning and walking out of the cell.
Zhao Feng's laughter followed him, echoing in the dark.
"You'll be back, Zhu Jiu. I know you will."
Leaving the cell, Zhu Jiu returned to the conference room.
Inside, the atmosphere was warm and lively. The group, having eaten their fill, was busy cleaning up and preparing for bed.
Zhang Xinyu had already organized a patrol schedule. Fatty's Fourth Squad was making rounds, ensuring the building was secure and that no resources were being pilfered.
Zhu Jiu approved of the measures. Trust was important, but rules and precautions were essential in a world like this.
"Zhu-ge," Zhang Xinyu called out as he approached, a grin on his face. "We've set up your room. Sister Ruan's already there waiting for you."
He winked conspiratorially.
"You little brat," Zhu Jiu said with a chuckle, ruffling Zhang Xinyu's hair. "Don't let your mind wander where it shouldn't."
Zhang Xinyu laughed but said nothing, leading Zhu Jiu to his room—a secluded office that had been repurposed into private quarters.
Handing him a key, Zhang Xinyu said, "Here you go, Zhu-ge. Two keys—one for you, one for Sister Ruan. Rest well."
With that, he darted off, leaving Zhu Jiu shaking his head in amusement.
As he reached for the door, it opened from the inside.
A familiar scent wafted out—a soft, sweet fragrance he knew well.
Ruan Qingyan stood there, her figure framed by the warm light behind her.
"Welcome back," she said softly, her lips curving into a smile.