The so-called “sea-view villa” that An Muning had mentioned turned out to be a total “jump scare” the moment one stepped inside.

A zombie was sitting right in the entrance hall.

Fan Ningyue stood frozen, staring at it.

It was the first time she had ever seen a zombie like this.

Its body had completely turned a pale gray-white. There was a hideous bite wound on its shoulder, and black veins bulged across its skin.

Unlike the dry, decayed zombies she expected, this one showed no signs of mummification. It was likely one that had been continuously fed—because under normal circumstances, a zombie left without food for too long would have already dried out, rotted away, and become nothing but bones on the roadside.

The zombie’s white shirt was torn, exposing the injured shoulder. It wore blue jeans on its lower body, now filthy and worn.

It leaned against the wall at the entrance, staring at Fan Ningyue, letting out the low growl unique to zombies—but it showed no intent to attack. It was clearly still under An Muning’s control.

Fan Ningyue frowned.

That guy said he liked “beautiful female zombies”… she had thought it was just a joke.

She didn’t expect he actually kept one at home.

…Did he even feed it humans?

Eight years of ingrained impressions weren’t something a few days of interaction could erase. And with how An Muning constantly talked, Fan Ningyue really felt like he might actually do something like that.

She stood there, still not moving, when the door behind her suddenly opened again.

“What are you doing standing here…” An Muning began, then paused as he saw the scene inside.

After a few seconds of silence, he slumped his shoulders slightly. “Sis… why did you come out again?”

“Sis?” Fan Ningyue glanced at him suspiciously.

“Don’t be nervous, that’s my sister,” An Muning said, holding a blue bucket filled with freshly crushed shark meat.

He lifted the bucket and shook it in front of the zombie. “Time to eat.”

A strong smell of blood filled the air. The zombie twitched its nose, immediately scrambled up, and reached for the bucket.

“Don’t rush, follow me,” An Muning said, stepping aside.

It was the first time Fan Ningyue had ever heard him speak so gently.

He led the zombie into a room near the entrance and closed the door after placing the bucket inside.

After that, he waved at Fan Ningyue. “Go shower. Upstairs.”

Fan Ningyue had a dozen questions, but none of them knew how to come out.

After a moment, she lowered her eyes in thought, then went upstairs.

Watching her disappear at the stairway, An Muning opened the door again and leaned against the frame, looking at the zombie inside devouring the meat from the bucket.

His expression was unreadable.

“Hey,” he suddenly called out.

The zombie didn’t stop. The only sound in the room was the tearing of flesh.

“Did you see that person just now?” he asked.

“Grrr…” the zombie responded faintly.

“There’s a word for it… what was it again?” An Muning muttered thoughtfully. “Nemesis?”

“But I actually quite like her,” he said, nodding. “Compared to those higher-ups in the Survivor Alliance, she still feels human. She’s a pretty good opponent… but unfortunately, she’s too upright, too principled. Not really a qualified enemy.”

The zombie finally finished the last piece of meat. Its hollow gray eyes shifted slightly, briefly locking onto An Muning.

“You finished already? You’re eating way too fast,” he sighed. “If I had killed you earlier, would none of this have happened?”

“Grrr…”

“Damn it…” he cursed under his breath and walked over to take the empty bucket. His gaze then fell on the zombie’s grotesque shoulder wound.

He slumped his shoulders again. “You know… there are so many abilities out there. I spent so much effort leveling my spatial ability up to the ‘Gouchen Realm’… but why the hell is there no time ability?”

“Grrr…”

The zombie seemed to respond, but its eyes remained fixed on his neck.

There, beneath the skin, flowed the most powerful and violent energy of the strongest ability user alive—irresistibly enticing.

An Muning stared back at it and let out a strange, almost mocking chuckle.

After a moment, he extended his arm and placed his wrist in front of her. “Want a taste?”

The zombie immediately reacted—its teeth snapping rapidly like a roaring engine, ready to tear him apart in the next second.

But under the suppression of his ability, it remained motionless.

“Nope,” An Muning said, pulling his hand back. “That’s payback for when I wanted cake as a kid and you didn’t buy it for me.”

“I shouldn’t have fed you at all,” he muttered. “The day you die, I’ll finally be able to die in peace.”

He had originally decided not to feed her anymore, and had barely managed to hold out for a few days.

This was Fan Ningyue’s fault.

“Leaving now,” he said irritably, rubbing his head. “Don’t wander outside. While I’m not here, if some evolved zombie shows up, it’ll kill you… I spent a lot of effort clearing this area.”

“Grrr…”

“Fine, fine,” he said without turning back, waving his hand like he was calming a child. “When I get the chance, I’ll find a psychic-type ability user and wipe out all the evolved zombies around here. Then I’ll open the gate—go wherever you want, I won’t care anymore.”

He opened the door and saw Fan Ningyue standing right outside.

“What are you doing?” he said. “Eavesdropping?”

He raised one eyebrow. With that aggressively sharp face of his, he looked quite impatient.

But after being his opponent for so many years, Fan Ningyue knew he only wore that expression when he was confused.

Or even joking.

“No,” she said, lightly coughing and waving her hand. “I didn’t intentionally eavesdrop. But I am a bit curious.”

“What’s there to be curious about?” An Muning turned and nodded toward the closed room door. “Our parents died early. My sister raised me. Now she’s a zombie, and I’m keeping her alive.”

“So the fish you catch…” Fan Ningyue’s throat seemed to catch. She hesitated, searching for a less hurtful way to phrase it. “It’s food for her?”

“Yeah. I can’t exactly kill people to feed her,” he said, looking at the closed door. “You know my first awakened ability was spatial ability, right?”

Fan Ningyue nodded.

“At the early stage it was pretty useless. Before the ‘Tianquan Realm,’ it had almost no offensive power. But I knew how terrifying it could become. At that time, I thought this world had to be balanced.”

He spread his hands. “After all, we’ve got zombies, evolution—things that are already ridiculous.”

She nodded again.

Spatial abilities were indeed not valued at first—nothing more than storage space and short-distance movement.

But later, its true horror became clear.

Compressing and crushing space—An Muning could even destroy an entire city in an instant.

Though he had never actually done it.

“So there should be a time ability too, right? Space and time should be linked, shouldn’t they?” he said with a shrug. “Unfortunately, reality didn’t cooperate. I searched everywhere, but never found any trace of a time ability.”

“So that’s your goal?” Fan Ningyue asked.

“Yeah,” he said casually. “But I was already past the point of no return. I had gone too far… I don’t need victory. I never did.”

Back then, he had rolled down a steep cliff and fallen into some unknown forest.

His limbs were broken, blood pouring out. He lay at the bottom of the cliff while his self-healing ability slowly repaired his body.

At that moment, he thought maybe it would be better to just die there.

It would have been a rare luxury—to end his life under the stars, exactly like this.

“Pretty dramatic, huh,” An Muning said, glancing again toward the closed door. “She was the one who found me back then.”

Of course, the story wasn’t that sentimental.

At that time, his sister had actually been standing beside him… thinking of him as a meal.

An Muning couldn’t remember what he was thinking then.

Under the starlight, facing the most familiar face in his life—the person he most wanted to save—had already become a zombie baring its fangs at him.

He couldn’t remember what happened afterward.

But he didn’t die. Neither of them did.

They both survived, stubbornly, like cockroaches—just like before the apocalypse.

“Not bad,” An Muning said with a faint smile.