Shen Mu stood silent, his grip holding tight on the hilt of his knife as he looked down at the man collapsed before him.
The survivor was clinging to his senses by what looked like bare chance. His body pressed against the back of a rusted body of overturned truck, each gasp an almost painful stretch in his narrow chest. His eyes were lined in dark and, from across several steps away, Shen Mu could easily see his weariness was reflected on every one of his facial features. Cheeks hollow and lip cracked apart through dehydration; skin covered by dried blood.
He was in pretty bad shape.
But that didn't mean Shen Mu would let his guard down.
A survivor just appearing out of nowhere? Alone? Injured? Could be a coincidence, but could also be a trap.
Shen Mu had seen it before—wounded people left as bait, acting desperate until some unsuspecting fool got too close. Then their "comrades" would spring the ambush, taking whatever supplies they could before disappearing into the ruins.
That would not happen to him.
He moved slowly forward, his knife ready. The man's eyes snapped open at the scraping of boots against broken pavement. His gaze was vague at first, but when he focused on Shen Mu standing over him, his whole body stiffened.
A mix of emotions crossed the man's face—fear, relief, and hesitation.
"…You're not one of them," the man rasped, his voice barely above a whisper.
Shen Mu didn't respond right away. Instead, he took a moment to scan their surroundings. The ruined city stretched out around them, abandoned cars littering the cracked roads. Crumbling buildings loomed in the distance, their skeletal remains casting long shadows in the fading light.
There was no movement nearby. No sounds aside from the occasional gust of wind.
They were alone.
For now.
Shen Mu turned his attention back to the man. "Who are you?"
The man licked his lips, struggling to sit up a little straighter. "Luo Qi."
His voice was hoarse, raw. Like he hadn't spoken in days.
Shen Mu watched him carefully. "How did you get hurt?"
Luo Qi let out a bitter laugh, but it was quickly swallowed by a cough. He winced and clutched at his side. "Ran into… a bad group." His breaths were uneven, each one shaky and forced. "Didn't exactly part on good terms."
Shen Mu didn't say anything. Instead, he took a step closer, lowering himself to a crouch in order to take a better look at him.
Luo Qi flinched a little at the movement but didn't try to retreat. That was a good sign. Someone planning an ambush would have reacted differently.
Shen Mu glanced to Luo Qi's injuries. Clothes were tattered, a patch of blood drenched dry upon his left sleeve. He could see where Luo Qi set a twisted pose across his leg: the leg Shen Mu wanted no part to bear his full weight. Almost definitely a sprain, potentially much worse.
Were you shot?".
Luo Qi shook his head. "No. Just… beaten up pretty bad." He exhaled slowly. "Managed to get away, but… I've been running ever since."
Shen Mu narrowed his eyes. "How long?"
"…I don't know. Days? Maybe a week." Luo Qi swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I lost track after the first night."
Shen Mu studied him for another long moment, then asked the next question carefully.
You said you ran into a bad group." His tone was even, controlled. "Who were they?"
Luo Qi hesitated, his eyes darting toward the ground for the briefest second before he muttered, ".Crimson Fangs."
Shen Mu's fingers twitched slightly against the handle of his knife. He had never heard of them before, but that didn't mean they weren't dangerous.
Luo Qi saw the change in his position and fastened, "They are not just any ordinary thugs. They are structured. Armed. They are passing through the ruins, taking people."
Shen Mu didn't say a word to him, took it in.
"They have vehicles," Luo Qi went on, his voice getting more urgent, as if he wanted Shen Mu to believe him. "Guns. Traps. They aren't just scavengers. They're expanding. Claiming territory. And if they find survivors, they don't just kill them."
Shen Mu's grip on his knife tightened.
"They take them," Luo Qi whispered.
That was worse.
Murder was commonplace in this world. But kidnapping? That meant the Crimson Fangs had a reason for keeping people alive.
And reasons were dangerous.
Shen Mu finally spoke. "You got away."
It wasn't a question. It was an observation.
Luo Qi nodded slowly. "Yeah. Somehow." His hands curled into fists. "The others… weren't so lucky."
Shen Mu looked at his face closely. The pain in his voice sounded real, but he wasn't naive enough to believe the words of a stranger.
"Where was your group last?
Luo Qi breathed shudderingly. "Not far from here. A few kilometers west, I suppose. There was an old building we were using as shelter. The Fangs hit us in the middle of the night." He swallowed. "I don't know what happened to the others. I just ran."
Silence stretched between them.
Shen Mu weighed his options. He could leave Luo Qi behind—walk away and pretend he never met him. It would be safer. Less complicated.
But the name Crimson Fangs lingered in his mind.
If they were as deadly as Luo Qi claimed, then ignoring them wasn't an option.
"…Can you walk?" Shen Mu finally asked.
Luo Qi hesitated, then nodded. "Barely."
"Then stand up." Shen Mu stood up, tightening the strap on his backpack. "If you slow me down, I'll leave you in the dust."
Luo Qi laughed weakly. "Sounds fair."
He leaned on the truck, exerting himself as much as possible to lift up. His legs buckled under his weight, but he somehow balanced himself upright.
Shen Mu didn't attempt to support him.
He instead turned around and started walking; Luo Qi didn't have any choice but to follow him.
As he walked through the rubble, Shen Mu kept his wits about him. His instincts told him one thing: Luo Qi was still hiding something.
And Shen Mu meant to find out what that was.