Chapter Two: Number Five

Chapter Two

After leaving the shopping mall, Mei did not continue fighting the zombies. Instead, she immediately activated her concealment technique, hiding all traces of her presence so the zombies regarded her as nothing more than air, allowing her to move freely among them.

Soon, she returned to the small house where the original owner had always lived—her current refuge these past few days.

Before she even opened the door, her keen senses picked up faint movements from inside. Instantly, her nerves tightened.

Who was inside?

A thief?

Or perhaps...

Remembering the cause of the original owner's death, a black curved blade appeared in her hand, her figure vanishing into the shadows.

A soft click sounded as the lock turned. The person inside, hearing the noise, quickly hid, peeking cautiously toward the entrance. But as soon as his head emerged, the black blade pressed against his throat.

"Number Five, what are you doing here?"

His short black hair hung in messy strands, yet could not mask his striking features: a tall nose bridge, deep-set eyes with hints of violet, slightly upturned corners, and a half-smiling expression that lent him a touch of devilish charm. Recognizing his familiar face, Mei searched her memories and spoke, somewhat surprised.

"Naturally, I came to see whether you were dead or alive. We were companions, after all—if you were dead, I’d at least give you a proper burial, Number Nine." Ignoring the blade at his neck, Number Five replied lazily, wearing a look that practically begged to be kicked.

"You’re still alive, so how could I bear to leave first? If you want me to bury you, just say so! For old times’ sake, I wouldn’t refuse." Mei put away her blade, her words as sharp as ever, deliberately emphasizing the word "old".

Number Five raised an eyebrow at her reply, scanning the girl from head to toe. "You seem to be doing quite well!"

"You’re not bad yourself!"

No other survivors lived in her house. To ensure it stayed that way, she’d drawn plenty of zombies to the area, making it unlikely anyone would "accidentally" wander in. Though his black leather jacket was stained, it showed little damage. He reeked of zombie stench, but carried no trace of human blood—a sign of his competence.

"Got anything to eat?" Number Five sauntered over to the sofa, leaning back and tilting his head.

"There’s instant noodles in the kitchen—help yourself." Seeing his every move radiate harmlessness, Mei discreetly dispelled the energy in her hand, her tone becoming casual.

"Instant noodles? You mean you didn’t stock up on any other food?" Number Five emerged from the kitchen with two cups of noodles, incredulous.

"Can you cook?" Mei shot him a glance in return.

She couldn’t cook, nor could the original owner. Before the outbreak, her meals consisted of instant noodles or takeout. Now that takeout was gone, only noodles remained.

"Are you even a woman?" Number Five shook his head at her unapologetic retort.

"Who says women have to cook?"

When traveling, Cyril always handled the cooking. Once they settled down, each of the three had gifted her a versatile servant who could tend to any need, taking care of her impeccably.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t bring them with her!

Clearly, her next task was to find someone who could cook. She’d stored plenty of food in her space before arriving, but from the original owner’s memories, she knew this world had many unique delicacies she’d regret not tasting.

Thinking this, she suddenly regretted leaving so many supplies in the supermarket. She should have taken everything—who knew when she might need it?

Mei’s thoughts swiftly drifted.

"Hey, do you have any plans?" Seeing she was lost in thought, Number Five spoke again after finishing his meal.

"What do you want?" she replied, answering his question with one of her own.

Given their relationship, he’d never risk coming here unless he needed something from her.

Number Five’s lips curled into a genuine smile. Good, her mind hadn’t dulled! He’d wondered if over a year of relative comfort had blunted her vigilance, but his assessment began before they even met. The results were satisfying: sufficient caution, ability to protect herself, and sharp thinking—more than enough for a companion.

"Do you want to go back?" He sat on the sofa, propping his head with one hand, his demeanor relaxing further.

"Go back? Back where?" Mei was momentarily confused, then quickly caught his meaning.

"Yes."

"Why go back? Didn’t we struggle so hard to escape? I don’t see any reason to return." Mei frowned, puzzled.

"After all, we lived there for over ten years. It’s only right to see it again. Besides, don’t you want to reclaim what’s yours? That might be the only proof that can help you find your family. Don’t you want it back?"

When he mentioned that place, Number Five’s tone was laced with mocking contempt, his eyes shining with disgust. Speaking of what she’d left behind there, his words carried a hint of temptation.

Mei needed only a moment to know exactly what he meant. It was a black bracelet the original owner had possessed since infancy. After entering that place, the bracelet was taken from her, never returned. She’d glimpsed it a few times from afar, but when she escaped, she had no chance to retrieve it. She didn’t know what made the bracelet special, but the original owner had always wanted it back.

From the moment Mei inhabited this body, they ceased to be two people. She inherited everything—including unfulfilled wishes and... hatred.

"Do you already have a plan?" Thinking of the original owner’s death, her expression became unreadable.

Though the power behind that place remained unclear, it was certainly formidable. Without a thorough plan, revenge was nothing but a fantasy.

"More or less." When it came to business, Number Five straightened, his expression serious. "Don’t you think the current situation isn’t so bad?"

Mei pondered his words, sensing an implication. "What do you want me to do?"

"Naturally, what you’re best at."

Best at?

She was best at fighting, but that wasn’t the original owner’s talent. What was the original owner best at? Just a thought made Mei’s head spin.

The original owner excelled at calculation—her mental arithmetic far surpassed any computer, and she was also extremely skilled at programming!

Mei rubbed her aching head. Only when her body truly assimilated the original owner’s abilities could those talents become her own. For now, she couldn’t use them at all.

Fortunately, there was no urgent need for such skills; she still had time to learn and adapt.

After careful consideration, she saw no harm in following him. Even if there was any, the benefits outweighed the risks. So Mei nodded lightly.

"I agree. May our cooperation be fruitful."

"A fruitful partnership!"

Their hands, one large and one small, clasped together, signifying the renewal of their alliance.