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The old man froze for a moment, then quickly understood.
"Alright… fine. We'll trade."
"I have… 2,800 grams of gold. I'll exchange it for 28 jin of food."
It seemed the old man had made up his mind and brought out all the gold they had.
Julian nodded.
He had deliberately brought extra food for situations like this.
"Get the gold ready. I'll grab the food."
He turned and walked back to the car.
"Grandpa…" one of the boys whispered.
"That whole car is full of food."
"Should we…?"
The taller boy trailed off.
The old man understood exactly what his grandson meant.
There were three of them. The boy wanted to kill Julian and take everything.
The old man frowned and hesitated for a moment.
"No…"
"Look at the zombies outside. They're all dead."
"That was probably his doing."
"We're not his match."
"Better just trade honestly."
The old man had lived long enough to know when to be cautious.
The older boy clenched his teeth, but eventually dropped the idea.
Soon, Julian returned carrying several bags of food.
There were cooked dishes, vegetables, fruit, and some bread.
A surprisingly varied selection.
The moment the food appeared, the stomachs of the grandfather and the two boys growled in unison.
They hadn't eaten for a day and a half. They were starving.
"Comrade, here's the gold. Please check it."
The old man handed it over properly.
Inside were gold necklaces, nuggets, and other scraps—clearly pieces the shop had collected but hadn't had time to melt down yet.
Julian tested them with the tip of his knife.
Good purity. No random metals mixed in.
"Alright. Transaction complete."
"Good luck to you."
He placed the gold into a black bag.
"Oh, right," Julian added as he turned back.
"If you want to kill someone, try not to write it all over your face."
"People tend to notice."
As someone who had survived a year in the apocalypse, Julian could easily read a person's intentions from their eyes.
And this kid was just a hotheaded rookie. Julian had seen through him instantly.
The boy stiffened.
He… saw through me?
And he wasn't nervous at all?
Was the gap in strength really that big?
Cold sweat soaked the boy's back instantly.
Good thing he gave up on the idea earlier. Otherwise he might've ended up like the zombies outside.
The old man quickly pulled the rolling shutter back down.
With twenty-eight jin of food, the three of them could survive for at least another ten days.
As for what happened after that…
That was up to fate.
Julian returned to his van and drove toward the next location.
The next address was an abandoned warehouse in the city.
But as soon as Julian got close, something felt off.
The warehouse had terrible defenses.
It didn't seem like a place survivors would choose to live.
The nearby dormitory building, on the other hand, was much easier to defend.
So the person who left this address…
Something's wrong.
Just as expected.
The moment Julian stopped the car, five men holding fire axes appeared around him.
They were all wearing helmets and blue work uniforms. Judging by their outfits, they were probably workers from nearby.
"Boss, looks like someone really delivered food right to our doorstep!" one of the workers said with a grin.
"And it's a whole truckload too!"
"Haha!"
"I didn't expect this either!"
"Looks like we won't have to worry about food for a while!"
"I'm sick to death of those dry steamed buns."
The one leading them was a middle-aged man with a beer belly, most likely their supervisor.
In the early days of the apocalypse, small groups like this usually kept their old workplace hierarchy.
A supervisor was still a supervisor.
But that wouldn't last long.
Soon enough, only those who were capable and ruthless would become leaders.
A useless beer-bellied guy like this…
It wouldn't be long before his own men kicked him out.
"What?" Julian chuckled. "You guys planning to rob me?"
He actually found it amusing.
Second delivery of the day, and he'd already run into something like this.
"Kid, calling it robbery sounds a bit harsh," the supervisor said.
"Here, have a cigarette. Leave the goods behind."
"Let's just call it making friends."
He pulled out a cigarette and tossed it toward Julian.
Julian smiled faintly, drew his knife, and sliced the cigarette cleanly in half while it was still in the air.
All five workers froze.
This guy… wasn't someone easy to deal with.
"Boss, there are more of us! What are we scared of?" one dark-skinned worker shouted.
He was trying to intimidate Julian, though he was mostly trying to boost his own courage.
The worker's words reminded the supervisor of something important.
They had the numbers.
"Kid, no matter how good you are, you think you can take on five people?"
"Don't resist. Let's save everyone some energy."
"If we're forced to make a move and accidentally hurt you, that'd just be trouble for everyone."
The supervisor's tone turned threatening.
"Who said…" Julian said with a grin, "there are fewer of us than you?"
He reached over and turned on the van stereo.
The sound quality was terrible.
But the volume?
Incredible.
"♫ In the vast sky and endless land, my love runs free… ♫"
A ridiculously catchy song blasted through the abandoned warehouse.
The zombies outside immediately heard the noise and began swarming toward it from every direction.
"Are you insane?!" the supervisor shouted.
"You can't beat us, so you're trying to drag us down with you?!"
Panic filled his voice.
Zombies were pouring in from all sides.
Just the five of them…
There was no way they could fight off dozens of zombies.
"Who said I couldn't beat you?" Julian said calmly.
"I just wanted to be lazy."
"Trash like you isn't even worth me lifting a finger."
He climbed back into the car and turned off the stereo.
A few dozen zombies were enough. Any more and it would just make things troublesome when he left.
"Boss! He's leaving!" the dark-skinned worker shouted, pointing at the van.
The engine roared.
With a loud burst of acceleration, the van shot toward the exit.
After knocking aside three or five zombies blocking the way, Julian drove straight out of the warehouse.
As for the five workers trapped inside with dozens of zombies…
That had nothing to do with him anymore.
Listening faintly to their distant screams, Julian drove toward his next destination.
The next few deliveries went pretty smoothly.
He didn't run into any trouble.
Most of the food in the car had been traded away.
Now there was only one destination left: the seaside villa district next to East Lake Island.
The last two customers both lived there.
Julian drove along the coastal road for more than ten minutes before arriving at the East Lake Villas.
The main gate of the community was tightly shut, and the surrounding area was filled with barricades. It was obvious a lot of effort had gone into the defenses.
Rich people's villas really were different.
Even in the apocalypse, they still had property management at this level.
"Who are you?"
"What are you doing here?"
Two security guards in uniforms walked out of the guard booth. They wore motorcycle helmets and held long batons.
"....."