Chapter 21: Trade

Jack looked ready to cry. A two-meter-tall mountain of a man was now trembling in Ray’s grip like a quail waiting for the chopping block, his face flushed so deep it seemed ready to bleed.

"What kind of dream produces that?" Mitch sat cross-legged nearby, letting out a scornful laugh as he pointed downward. "Did you dream you turned into Optimus Prime?"

Ace leaned against the wall, peach-blossom eyes curved, voice soft enough to wring water from.

"Jack, don’t be scared. Let Boss check you properly."

"See whether you’ve got any rebellious thoughts."

"I... I..."

Jack had no words left. Ray’s hand was already reaching for his waistband.

Desperation gave him sudden strength. He wrenched free with a violent twist and bolted.

"Stop right there!"

Ray roared and gave chase.

In the cramped storage room, a chaotic pursuit erupted. Jack circled the central fire like a headless fly, while Ray stayed right on his heels, looking fully prepared to tear him apart on the spot.

"You still dare to run?"

"Boss, I was wrong—I really was!"

"If you know you’re wrong, then stop and take the pants off!"

"I won’t! You can beat me to death and I still won’t!"

The rest of the brothers showed zero intention of helping. Instead, they positioned themselves with pure malice in every corner, forming a perfect encirclement that cut off every escape route. Mitch even stuck out a leg at the exact right moment and tripped Jack cleanly.

May watched the group of roughly 1.9-meter-tall rough men chase each other around like kindergarteners playing a tag game. She finally couldn’t hold it in and let out a soft snort of laughter.

The next day the truck rolled back onto the road.

Last night’s farce had ended with Jack pinned to the floor by Ray, one second away from having his pants actually ripped off for inspection. Only Ace’s smiling mediation had finally smoothed things over.

May was placed in the passenger seat. Ray drove himself; Theo had been banished to the cargo bed.

Crumbling buildings and silent fields lined both sides of the highway. The occasional wandering zombie turned its head slowly at the sight of their vehicle, only to be left far behind.

Everything felt unnaturally calm.

May tilted her head and stole a glance at the man beside her. Ray kept his eyes fixed on the road, the hard lines of his profile sharp as if carved by a blade. The knuckles of the hand gripping the wheel stood out, full of restrained power.

He seemed to sense her stare but didn’t turn, only gave a quiet hum from his throat.

"What is it?"

"N-nothing," she quickly looked away, suddenly guilty as she stared out the window. "Just... thinking you look pretty cool when you drive, Boss."

The moment the words left her mouth, the temperature inside the cab seemed to rise a notch. She watched his fingers tighten around the steering wheel.

[Ding.]

[Verbal interaction with Strategy Target No. 1 "Ray" detected. Target’s emotions show positive fluctuation. Reward points +10.]

[Current total points: 310.]

Only ten.

May wrinkled her nose inwardly. Looks like simple verbal praise no longer worked very well on this particular boss.

The truck rolled on steadily. Just as she was starting to doze, Mitch’s slightly tense voice crackled through the radio.

"Boss, convoy ahead. Living people."

May snapped awake and looked forward.

On the distant horizon, a line of vehicles was slowly approaching. Leading them was a modified pickup with a machine gun mounted on the roof. Several men leaned against the sides, weapons in hand—clearly not the friendly type.

"Stay sharp," Ray’s voice came through every radio. "Observe first."

The two convoys faced each other across the open road. Eventually the other side sent a smaller vehicle forward with a white cloth tied to its roof.

A window rolled down. A skinny, monkey-like man stuck his head out, face stretched into a smile.

"Don’t shoot. No harm intended—we just want to trade some supplies."

Ray said nothing, only gave a cold look. From the cargo bed, Ace jumped down and walked over with an easy smile.

"What are you looking to trade?"

"We’ve got canned food, compressed biscuits. Looking for gasoline and antibiotics. We’re all survivors here—help each other out, right?"

The skinny man rubbed his hands together, but his eyes kept drifting uncontrollably toward the truck’s cab. The moment he spotted the small, snow-pale face peeking out from the passenger seat, his eyes lit up.

The look was dangerous, like sugar paper that had already attracted flies. May’s stomach turned.

Ace’s smile never changed, but the warmth in his peach-blossom eyes drained away.

"Our captain’s in the truck. I’ll go ask."

He turned back. Before he could even speak, Ray had already seen it in the rearview mirror: a thick-faced bald man in the other convoy was staring brazenly through a pair of binoculars, gaze full of open aggression and undisguised lust, locked precisely on May.

The bald man lowered the binoculars and let out a sharp, piercing whistle in their direction.

The skinny man immediately understood. He stuck his head out again, smile now even more obsequious.

"Boss, our leader says if trading supplies is inconvenient, trading people works too."

He pointed straight at May, voice raised so every word carried clearly across the open road.

"That woman in your truck—let our boss enjoy her for one night, and this whole half-truck of cans is yours."

The words hung in the empty highway, sharp and unmistakable.

Inside the cab, May could hear her own heart hammering with rage and disgust. Her fists clenched on instinct.

She never got the chance to react.

Pfft.

A soft, wet sound—like a ripe watermelon being stabbed—cut through the silence.

May blinked, then watched as the bald leader who had just been whistling so arrogantly on the distant pickup had his head explode in a spray of red-and-white mist.

The headless body swayed, then toppled straight off the truck.

Everything happened too fast.

Fast enough that the rest of the enemy convoy hadn’t even processed it. Fast enough that the slimy smile on the skinny man’s face hadn’t yet faded.

The next second Ray kicked the door open, one hand gripping the heavy Barrett, and dropped straight out of the cab.