Chapter 613: All of This Is Fertilizer for My Flowers
Chapter 613: All of This Is Fertilizer for My Flowers
“Ah!” Tang Siluo shrieked, thrashing like a madwoman as she clawed at the soldiers’ tightly interlocked hands. “Let me out! I want to see Zhang Boxun! Let me out—I have to see him!”
When brute force didn’t work, she started biting.
What a hopeless woman—someone who only knew how to make things worse. Why on earth had Fatty classified her among the old, weak, sick, or pregnant? Was she actually pregnant?!
Seeing her lose control, Luo Feifan barked to the nearby women who still had some strength left, “Tie her up! Restrain her before she drags anyone else down!”
A few women, their bellies slightly swollen, hurried forward. They tore belts from their coats, bound Tang Siluo’s wrists, and gagged her to keep her from screaming.
Meanwhile, Liu Shasha was still shouting into the tunnel, searching desperately for Liu Zhi and the others—but no one answered.
Zhang Boxun held her hand tightly, shielding her as the crowd grew louder. Angry voices rose on all sides, and several young men began stirring trouble, turning the area outside An Ran’s villa into complete chaos.
One of the rioters broke through the soldiers’ cordon—only to be met by Zhou Zheng.
Zhou Zheng’s face was flushed with rage. He stepped forward and punched the man, but several others immediately swarmed him. One drew a knife and lunged, stabbing wildly.
The mob, driven mad by fear, had lost all sense of order. They’d kill if it meant survival.
Just as the blade was about to pierce Zhou Zheng’s chest, a white tail whipped down from above, snatching the knife-wielder into the air. The man screamed, twisting and struggling, but within moments his body went limp—drained dry by the tail’s grip.
A piercing scream echoed through the tunnel.
Zhou Zheng froze, drenched in cold sweat. Around him, everyone stared upward in horror at the shriveled corpse hanging from the ceiling.
Except for Fatty’s group, panic rippled through the survivors. Many thought a snow wolf had broken in—others believed some new monster was loose in the tunnel.
Even Liu Shasha gasped, staring upward—until she saw An Ran.
An Ran stood on the second-floor balcony, gazing silently down at the chaos below.
Her face was expressionless. She had seen too much death to panic anymore. After so many years in the apocalypse, her heart no longer trembled at scenes like this.
The moment she appeared, Fatty’s group fell silent. One by one, the others followed suit, until the noise faded entirely—only a few children’s sobs breaking the stillness.
Those who dared look up saw a forest of white vines—countless tails hanging above them, twisting slowly in the dim light.
They all understood: one wrong move, and they could be next.
“Make another sound,” An Ran said evenly, her cold gaze sweeping over them, “and you’ll all become fertilizer for my flowers.”
Her tone wasn’t loud, but in the hollow tunnel, every word echoed. The chill in her voice was sharper than the winter air.
No one dared breathe too loudly. Even the children were muffled, their parents’ hands covering their mouths.
Zhou Zheng, still trembling, tilted his head upward. His jaw hung open wide enough to fit a quail egg.
Above him dangled the corpse—its hand bones wrapped in withered skin, still clutching a long, gleaming knife.
If that white vine hadn’t struck when it did, Zhou Zheng knew that blade would have been buried in his chest.