Reborn As A Doomsday Villainess-Chapter 25

She swallowed, her heart pounding. "What if it’s something worse?"

The moment the words left her mouth, the zombie’s body jerked violently against its restraints.

Then it snapped.

A guttural snarl tore from its throat as its limbs thrashed, the metal clamps groaning under the pressure. Its head whipped toward them, and then—

CRACK.

The restraints gave way.

"Shit! Shit" Qingran lunged back just as the creature lunged forward.

Feng Yizhou didn’t hesitate. He raised his gun and fired.

The bullet tore through the zombie’s skull.

It slumped for exactly two seconds.Then it moved again.

A horrible, unnatural twitch, like something was pulling its body upright from the inside. Its head snapped toward them, half its skull blown away yet it kept coming.

Feng Yizhou fired again. Another shot to the head.

Another collapse. Another rise.

Qingran’s stomach twisted. "What the fuck"

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

The shots rang out, precise and lethal. Each time, the zombie fell, and each time, it rose again.

Until finally—

BANG.

The last shot hit lower. Not the head or the heart.

It’s stomach and this time, the body convulsed then collapsed for good.

A tense silence filled the truck. The only sound was Qingran’s sharp breathing as she stared at the unmoving corpse.

It wasn’t regenerating, they couldn’t afford for it too.

Feng Yizhou exhaled sharply, lowering his gun. "What the hell was that?"

Qingran swallowed hard and stepped closer, eyes locked on the unnatural corpse. No blood pooled beneath it. No decay clung to its skin.

Her mind raced.

Then it hit her.

She crouched down, brushing her fingers over the lifeless body. The flesh was firm, almost rubbery. Too perfect. Too constructed.

No blood. No infection. No signs of the virus.

This thing—it wasn’t turned. It was made.

Her stomach churned. "The hell..." She looked up, eyes dark with fury. "These sick fucks. Feng Yizhou, this zombie is man-made. It’s not part of the infected."

Feng Yizhou’s expression hardened.

The implications sank in.

If this was man-made...

Then someone—somewhere—had been creating these things long before the apocalypse even began.

Feng Yizhou had stepped away from Qingran as she sorted through the weapons, his expression calm but his mind anything but.

"Caocao," he said internally, his grip tightening around the strap of his bag. "Talk."

A hum echoed in his thoughts. [You need to prepare for contingencies. If that bio-weapon was just one transport, then there are more. And if there are more, then you need a way out when things go to hell.]

Feng Yizhou’s jaw clenched. "And the syringes?"

Caocao paused. [Lingquan has likely already analyzed them for Gu Qingran. I won’t repeat what she already knows. But Yizhou—this is bigger than you think. This isn’t just an outbreak waiting to happen. It’s a controlled detonation.]

That made him go still. "Explain."

[Blackout Division isn’t the end of the chain. They’re a subdivision. The real organization pulling the strings is still hidden.]

Feng Yizhou exhaled sharply, his gaze flicking toward Qingran. She was still checking over her supplies, unaware of his conversation.

"So we’ve only cut off one limb, not the head."

[Exactly.]

Caocao’s tone was grim.

[And if they’ve already moved onto live testing, then they’re ahead of schedule. You need to be ready for a worst-case scenario.]

Feng Yizhou’s eyes darkened. "Give me options."

[Secure an escape route. Plant a fail-safe. And if necessary, destroy everything before it spreads.]

He rolled his shoulders, forcing his breathing to stay even.

"I’ll handle it."

Qingran, unaware of the silent exchange, continued her own preparations.

[That one.]

Lingquan’s voice cut through her focus as she reached for another firearm.

She stilled. "Why?"

[Reliable, lightweight, and won’t jam under pressure. You’ll need something fast if more of those things appear.]

Her fingers curled around the rifle’s grip, testing the weight before nodding. She tucked it into her gear. "What else?"

[Two knives, at least. You can’t afford to run out of ammo. And be careful of Feng Yizhou. His system is—]

Lingquan suddenly cut off.

Qingran frowned. "His system is what?"

A long pause.

[...Nothing. Just be careful.]

That wasn’t reassuring.

She glanced toward Feng Yizhou, who was just turning back toward her, his expression carefully blank.

Something was off. She didn’t like it.

But for now, she would have to deal with it.

She exhaled, rolling her shoulders. "We’re done here. Let’s move."

Feng Yizhou gave a short nod.

But she caught it—that brief flicker of tension in his fingers.

They were both walking into something much bigger than either of them had realized.

The tension between them remained as they moved back toward their vehicle. Qingran secured her newly acquired weapons in the back, making sure the rifle was within easy reach.

Feng Yizhou took a moment longer. His gaze swept over the abandoned convoy one last time before he finally spoke.

"We need a contingency plan," he said. "If things go south, we can’t afford to be trapped here."

Qingran shot him a sharp look. "You think things aren’t already going south?"

He didn’t react to her sarcasm. "You know what I mean."

Qingran exhaled. He wasn’t wrong. They had just confirmed that some organization wasn’t just experimenting with the infected but creating their own monsters.

And they had no idea how many were already out there.

She crossed her arms. "Fine. What do you suggest?"

Feng Yizhou glanced at the truck, then back at their surroundings. "We don’t have time to set a full-scale trap, but we can make sure no one else walks into this unprepared."

He moved quickly, heading toward a nearby abandoned vehicle. After a moment, Qingran realized what he was doing.

Rigging a warning system.

Using some spare supplies, he quickly set up a basic but effective alert—a triggered explosive tied to the entrance of the truck’s cargo. If anyone else came snooping, they’d either be scared off or forced to deal with the consequences.

Qingran arched a brow. "That’ll buy time, but it won’t stop them."

Feng Yizhou straightened. "It’s not supposed to. It’s supposed to make them cautious. If we can’t take them down yet, we make them hesitate."

She gave him a considering look but didn’t argue. "Let’s go, then."

They got into the vehicle, the low hum of the engine breaking the uneasy silence.

As they pulled away from the site, Qingran’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel. She couldn’t shake the unease settling deep in her chest.

"Lingquan."

[I’m here.]

She hesitated before asking, "That synthetic zombie. The mutagenic syringes. If this was man-made, what are the chances that the apocalypse itself was, too?"

Lingquan didn’t answer immediately.

[...The probability is higher than I previously calculated.]

Qingran’s grip on the wheel tightened.

She had come back to stop herself from making the same mistakes.

But now, she wasn’t even sure the apocalypse had started the way she had always believed.