Photograph

"No need."

Scarface's smile froze, "W-what...?"

"Kneeling to whomever you choose is the same, didn't you already choose?" Lu Heng's voice was flat, as if he were talking about something that had nothing to do with anyone else. "Once you've chosen, don't choose a second time."

Scarface's pupils contracted sharply. Someone behind him reacted, scrambling backward on all fours, managing a half-groan of pain—

The Bone Demon moved.

Without a roar or a running start, the dark gray wall simply moved forward one step. The bone claws slashed upwards, and before the person could even utter a sound, he was sent flying, crashing into the brick wall of the main building, and sliding down, completely unrecognizable.

The second person turned and ran, but after taking two steps, the Bone Demon slapped him on the back, sending him sliding across the ground, his face scraping against the concrete, his flesh torn and ripped.

The third one, the fourth one... no one can escape.

Scarface was the last to die. He slumped to the ground, inching towards the doorway. Seeing the shadow of the Bone Demon looming over him, he looked up, his smile still lingering, "My lord... I... I can help you... we..."

The bone claws fell, making a dull thud like sandbags hitting the ground.

In less than ten breaths, five more corpses appeared on the square. Blood flowed downwards, forming thin streaks that crawled along the cement cracks toward the flowerbeds. Little Liu's body lay not far away, his hand still clutching his severed wrist, his body already cold—the one who killed his master, and the price he paid for it, lay side by side under the same moonlight.

Lu Heng stood still.

The dirtiest things in the apocalypse are never Zombie. Wild beasts fight only for food and territory; they don't betray their masters, they don't kill their lords, and they don't stab their leaders in the back when they're begging for survival. When those five people were kneeling and begging for shelter, there wasn't a single trace of remorse in their eyes—they only cared about their own survival.

Taking in this kind of person is like raising snakes.

A gust of wind blew in from the edge of the square, carrying the smells of alcohol and blood. Just then, a low growl came from the other side of the doorway.

Lu Heng turned his head away.

The Bronze Tier Bully Dog stood up beside Zhou Cheng's corpse. It didn't chase after the scattered refugees, nor did it take a last look at Little Liu, who had killed his master. It walked straight towards him. Its half-ton body pressed down on the broken glass, making a creaking sound. With each step, its paws left a bloody mark on the ground.

Its fur was still standing on end, and blood foam hung from the corner of its mouth, but its posture was wrong—its front paws weren't pushing off the ground, its back wasn't arched, and its brownish-yellow eyes weren't looking at Lu Heng's throat, but at Zhou Cheng's pool of blood on the ground.

It walked to a spot two steps in front of Lu Heng and stopped.

Then he took a half step forward on his knees, lowered his head, and pressed it against the cement ground beside Lu Heng's feet. The skin and flesh of the back of his neck were exposed, a thin layer, beneath which was the bone.

Lu Heng lowered his eyes and stared at it for a long time.

Having avenged its master's murder, its remaining life was empty. It didn't come to fight to the death, but to seek death—to seek a quick end, to seek a complete corpse, to seek death at the hands of someone who could kill Zhou Cheng in one move, which was better than becoming food for wild dogs in the apocalypse.

A slight tremor ran through him, like something gently poking him.

"I'll grant your wish," he said softly.

Deep within his consciousness, the King Snake slid out.

The shadowy creature slithered along the ground to the Bully Dog's neck, its fangs snapping together to inject the venom. The dog's muscles twitched, but that was all. It didn't flinch, it didn't struggle; its pupils slowly dilated, its breathing gradually lessened. When it exhaled its last breath, it let out a very soft whimper, like a half-finished cry of "Master," unfinished.

Lu Heng squatted down and reached out to close its eyes. The eyelids were still warm under his palm.

There was an old locust tree in the community garden, its trunk so thick that it took two people to encircle it. Lu Heng used the Bone Demon's claws to dig a hole, right under the tree roots. The soil turned up, carrying the smell of dampness and rotten leaves.

He put Zhou Cheng and the dog into the pit together. Zhou Cheng's eyes were still open, and it took him some effort to pull down his double eyelids. The dog curled up at Zhou Cheng's feet, its head facing Zhou Cheng's face, in the exact same posture as when it was alive.

I filled the hole back in, tamped it down, covered it with some fallen leaves, and stomped on it a couple of times.

As he straightened up, the sky brightened. A sliver of golden-red light peeked through a hole in the clouds, falling directly in front of him and casting a long shadow of the old locust tree over the newly turned mound of earth. The morning air was cool and refreshing, which lessened the stench of blood from the night before.

He didn't erect a monument. In the apocalypse, erecting a monument would only attract others to dig it up and disturb the peace; there was no need for that.

After standing there for a while, he turned and walked towards the main building.

The innermost room in the main building was Zhou Cheng's living quarters, the door ajar. Pushing it open, a whiff of smoke mixed with alcohol wafted out. Morning light streamed in through the window, illuminating the mess in the room: liquor crates, cigarette butts, and spent shell casings scattered all over the floor, while the blankets on the cot against the wall were crumpled into a ball.

When the King Snake had previously scouted the room, it only searched for threats and supplies. There were no threats in this room, and the valuables had already been moved. It only glanced at the items through the crack in the door before retreating, ignoring the things on the table.

photo.

A table was covered with picture frames of all sizes; some were crooked, some had broken glass, but the photos were still there. Lu Heng picked up the largest one and brushed away the shards of glass.

In the picture, Zhou Cheng, a few years younger, is wearing a faded T-shirt and squatting in front of a small shop, grinning with a roguish air. He's holding a half-grown Bully Dog, its ears perked up and its tongue lolling out. In the lower right corner of the photo, a line of text is written in marker, the handwriting crooked and messy:

"Afu is two years old."

Afu. So that dog's Afu.

Lu Heng ran his fingertips along the edge of the photo frame, when his Wristband suddenly vibrated.

A pale blue screen popped up from the surface of the Wristband, and lines of text appeared:

[Special mental aggregate detected]

[Name: Companionship]

[Description: A photograph capturing moments spent together by a person and their dog. A special prop formed from a deep and sincere spirit.]

[Effect 1: When placed within the area of influence of the photograph, it can calm the restless emotions of the holder and those around them, stabilize their minds, and dispel negative emotions such as violence and fear.]

[Effect 2: The item's aura radiates a gentle, bond-like energy. Within its influence, neutral creatures/beasts will develop a favorable impression towards the holder; as long as the holder does not initiate an attack, neutral targets will not proactively attack the holder.]

[Note: Ineffective against mutated creatures that are already in a hostile state or are being controlled by others.]

The screen flashed twice and then disappeared.

Lu Heng stood there, clutching the photo, his fingertip still pressing on the words "Afu is two years old".

He came here seeking a tool to control the beasts, spending most of the night lying in wait, setting up plans, and stealthily moving about. He didn't find what he expected, but unexpectedly gained something—a spiritual item born from a bond between master and dog. It wasn't offensive, nor defensive; it was "Companionship."

He remembered Zhou Cheng kneeling on the ground, his back ramrod straight, saying, "His mother saved his life."

He tucked the photo into his pocket and placed it close to his chest.

It was broad daylight.

Lu Heng toured the stronghold inside and out and took inventory: the diesel engine was a solid piece of equipment, with a full fuel tank; there was also half a warehouse of instant noodles and compressed biscuits hidden in the main building, enough for his stronghold to eat for half a month.

He stood in the middle of the small square, looking at the mess on the ground—bottles, blood, corpses, and the extinguished camping lamp.