Happy New Year, everyone! Here's to hoping this year is way better than the last. Let's aim to live past 2080, or even longer!
I would like to inform you that a new work is available. If you find it interesting, please consider adding it to your libraries: "I evolved as an intelligent zombie in the multiverse."
*****
His leg twitched under the table, a subtle tremor betraying his frustration. Then, with a deep breath, he let out a long sigh and forced a strained smile.
"Fine," he said finally, his tone softer but the menace beneath unmistakable. "You're a righteous man, Ethan. A man who values love, friendship, and family. I can respect that, even if I don't share it. Each man has his own path, his own ambitions. I won't force you."
He paused, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "But before you leave," he added with false warmth, "I have a small request. Just a favor between brothers."
Ethan's gaze sharpened immediately. His instincts, honed by survival, whispered that this "favor" would not be simple. Still, his tone remained calm, polite, unreadable.
"Boss Tiger," he said slowly, "please tell me."
The flicker of a candle danced across Tiger's grin, and somewhere in the distance, a gunshot echoed through the night—followed by silence.
Tiger smiled, his words surprising Ethan: "I know a place where the military stored obsolete equipment and arsenals. I'm going to need your help, together we will seize the arsenals."
Ethan thought for a moment before continuing to say: "Boss Tiger, your firepower is so strong, yet is still unable to seize the arsenals?"
With Tiger's firepower, as long as there are plenty of bullets, normal zombies would be easily killed. He had to ask Ethan for help, thus the situation would not be so simple.
Tiger had nothing to hide, looking directly at Ethan and said: "There is nothing to hide! In the arsenal, there are four mutated zombie dogs. Those four mutated zombie dogs are extremely ferocious, the last time we five brothers could not get rid of them. If I did not see your extraordinary skill this time, I would not dare have the idea of going there again."
"40%! Those four mutated dogs, if I get rid of them. I want 40% of the firearms and ammo inside that arsenal!" Ethan thought for a while, then said.
Tiger frowned, then deeply said: "20%! Little brother Ethan, after seizing the arsenal, the most I can give you is 20% of the arsenals."
Ethan, shaking his head, said: "Boss Tiger, I have to risk my life to fight those four mutated zombie dogs. If careless, my brothers and I will all die under the jaws of those four mutated dogs. If it wasn't because of Boss Tiger being so extraordinary, heroic and our brotherhood. I would never have asked for so low."
Tiger stared at the mountain for a while, then looked toward the backyard and shouted: "Chloe! Come here!"
The young woman entered the room, her skin pale and smooth like porcelain. Her red hair cascaded down her shoulders in a silky waterfall, framing her face with an ethereal beauty. Her features were finely sculpted, with high cheekbones and full lips that added a delicate grace to her expression. Her large, expressive eyes were a captivating shade, hinting at both innocence and depth. She wore a white dress that clung gently to her developing figure, highlighting her slender waist and the gentle curve of her hips. Her voluptuous bosom, already more than ample, hinted at the promise of further growth, adding a touch of allure to her youthful elegance.
As Chloe moved with a natural grace, Chloe came in, Lei Chen and Chen Yan had an insatiable desire in their eyes. As they stared at Chloe's C+ cup breasts, prominent and yet still maturing, drew their attention, as did the subtle hint of curves yet to fully blossom. There was an undeniable allure in her youth, who still was a minor.
Chloe came in, kneeling before Tiger, Lei Chen, and Chen Yan. With her refined beauty, youthful face, and busty figure, capturing people's attention with her charm. She can be called a youthful big bosom model.
Tiger was also staring at Chloe's ample chest.
Even Ethan could not help but glance at her several times. In modern society, with ample nourishment, the girls developed early. Julia's figure among her peers is very good, but compared with Chloe, was still quite a bit inferior.
The girl named Chloe timidly looked at Tiger, and said: "Boss Tiger!"
Tiger pointed to Chloe, then toward Ethan, and said: "Little brother Ethan, this is Chloe, she is the most beautiful maiden I have. Now I will give her to you! She's not below those girls that you have brought. The most important thing is her obedience and her education. And you know what? She is the daughter of Jiang City's Mayor. The virgin daughter of a mayor, her value is far above the 20% of arsenals, what do you think?"
Listening to Tiger giving her away like some kind of gift or doll, Chloe's eyes flashed with humiliation and anger. But she did not dare show any discontent. Tiger treated Ethan with courtesy, but he would not show any mercy towards women. Chloe has seen Tiger break the limbs of a beautiful woman, then throw her into the henhouse.
The woman could not endure the depravity that goes on in the henhouse and died on her third day in the henhouse, but before dying, the horrors she saw would shock one's heart. There was also a woman that was thrown to the zombies while alive. Chloe saw the woman being eaten piece by piece while crying in miserable agony. From then on, none of the women dared to disobey Tiger. Those girls that would dare exhibit a princess and feminism syndrome and temper before Tiger would only be seeking death.
Ethan's eyes blinked slowly as he glanced at the sweet girl standing before him, her innocence radiating like a soft light in a world smothered by darkness. His mind was a storm of calculations, fear, anger, and regret—all battling for control. Every decision had a cost now. There was no room left for clean outcomes or honorable escapes.
He had deliberately kept himself away from the so-called henhouse, knowing full well what it symbolized—temptation, compromise, and ultimately, the trigger that could ignite a bloodbath. Ethan didn't fear death—he feared what his death would cause. He had power. Too much, perhaps. And if he let go—if even for a second he gave in to the primal storm within him—the fallout could be apocalyptic.
Tiger's men were unstable, violent, drunk on the false sense of superiority handed to them by their leader. And Tiger… Tiger was no fool. He was a warlord in spirit and a sadist by practice, but more than that, he was a master manipulator. He understood human nature intimately—the kind of understanding that made dictators rise and civilizations fall.
He had kept his distance from the henhouse for this very reason. He knew himself—knew the fire that burned in him. If he let it loose, he might crush Tiger, yes, but the collateral damage would be unimaginable. Innocent lives. Friends. Even he might not walk away from the fallout.
And Tiger knew it. That bastard knew exactly how to prod him.
Ethan knew the truth—if he died here, Tiger wouldn't just eliminate him. He'd erase the village. Women, children, his own friends—none of them would survive the vacuum Ethan's absence would leave. Blood would spill, and Tiger would paint himself a martyr or a savior depending on the audience.
So Tiger played the same game again. The same move that had worked once before.
He threw an innocent woman into the equation. Not to protect her. Not even to use her. But to weaponize her against Ethan. The implication was silent, but deafening: Take her—or we will.
And it wasn't just a test of morality. It was psychological warfare.
Tiger's men were already twitchy, ready to turn their guns on anyone who even flinched the wrong way. If Ethan fell here—if he made the wrong call—Sophia, Julia, Grace… everyone would be left at the mercy of a tyrant with no leash. Tiger's brand of rule was simple: fear, cruelty, control. A reign of submission where people learned quickly that silence and obedience were the only way to survive.
Once again, Tiger played the same move. He threw a woman into the center of the board—a sacrificial piece dressed in innocence. It was a rigged game. If Ethan accepted, he walked further into Tiger's snare. If he refused, the girl would be brutalized or killed, and the guilt would stain his hands, again.
Ethan felt the weight pressing against his chest, heavy and suffocating. But his face—his expression—remained unreadable. Like a mask forged in fire, hardened by far worse choices.
Ethan forced a smile—thin, controlled, but hollow. A mask hiding a world of fury. His voice was calm, practiced, as he spoke:
"Alright. We'll do it Brother Tiger's way."
The words burned. Not because he was afraid, but because he hated playing a part in this twisted theatre. Yet, compromise was survival. Not for him, but for the dozens of lives now tethered to his will.
Tiger's lips curled into a wolfish grin. That gleam in his eyes—smug, calculating, triumphant—said everything. He had won again. This wasn't about women, or alliances, or survival. It was about control. Dominance. About proving that even someone like Ethan—so powerful, so righteous, so different—could be brought to heel with just the right bait.
Tiger thrived on that power. He wasn't like Ethan. He didn't see the world in terms of what should be, only what was. And in his worldview, power was everything. Morality was a shackle. He had no interest in being a good man—he wanted to be the last man. He believed kindness was weakness, that trust was a flaw, and that the only truth in a broken world was who could hold a gun to whom.
Ethan was the opposite. Even in this nightmare world, he clung to ideals most had discarded. That strength should serve the weak. That justice mattered, even if it was hard. That being powerful didn't mean becoming a monster.
But that was exactly why Tiger loved to test him. Because Ethan's morals made him predictable.
Tiger had realized early on that Ethan wasn't like the others. He didn't drink. He didn't take. He didn't command through fear. And he didn't abandon the weak.
People like Ethan carried burdens. Women. Friends. Ideals. All it took was a well-placed hostage, a manufactured dilemma, and Ethan would fold.
And fold he did.
Because Ethan was a fool. A righteous fool. The kind Tiger loved to torment. He'd done it before—offering up a helpless girl, watching Ethan squirm under the weight of her fate, knowing he'd take responsibility for her the moment she was tossed at his feet. That same game had worked once… and now it worked again.
He just had to force him to choose.
A woman's life. A village's safety. A friend's dignity.
If Ethan acted, Tiger would have his men gun down the women standing outside—he made sure to gather them visibly, all within rifle range, all trembling under the cold stares of armed guards. He had the numbers, and the cowardice to use them. He knew Ethan was strong, but he also knew Ethan wasn't cruel. That was the hook. That was always the hook.
And now, once more, Tiger had maneuvered Ethan into a corner. A corner lined not with bars or bullets, but by the weight of conscience.
"He's a fool," Tiger thought, eyes gleaming. "But he's the kind of fool who'll win battles I never could... if I don't remind him who holds the leash."