None of the other building leaders had expected Zhang Yi's reaction. They'd assumed he had to go out every day to scavenge—that he was vulnerable the moment he left his home. Instead, Zhang Yi stood there with his hands in his pockets, calling their bluff.
"You want to fight me? Come on then. I'll hide in my fortress and watch you flail," he seemed to say without saying it.
Li Jian broke the stalemate. "Negotiation is better than fighting to the death. I can go meet him."
Zhang Yi smiled. "Mr. Li, I appreciate your attitude. You come talk to me. I trust you—unlike those cowards who prefer ambushes."
By calling him "Mr. Li," Zhang Yi signaled a prior rapport while subtly mocking Wang Qiang and Huang Tianfang. To break a fragile alliance, you start sowing division from the inside.
The tactic worked. Wang Qiang barked: "Li Jian, you can't speak for all of us!" Huang Tianfang growled: "We can't risk you going alone!" Chen Lingyu panicked: "Then I'm coming too!"
Everyone feared the others would cut a private deal and gain advantage. Their united front dissolved into a scramble for places at the table.
A flicker of killing intent crossed Zhang Yi's eyes. Come one, come all. I'm ready.
"Very well. Tomorrow at 2:30 p.m., I'll be waiting in Building 25. Don't be late."
He dropped out of the group immediately, leaving them no chance to bargain. If all twenty-nine leaders showed, he could end them in one sweep and leave the complex leaderless, too disorganized to regroup. His confidence rested on his firepower and the impenetrability of his house. He was ready.
Back at home, he glanced down and said, "Alright—dry them for me."
Zhou Ke'er nodded and wiped his feet with a cloth. She emptied the basin and returned to knead his shoulders.
Zhang Yi reached for her hand. "Don't use your phone for a few days. Give it to me."
War was coming; he needed to cut off any risk of leaks. Zhou Ke'er hesitated for a heartbeat, then handed over her phone.
"Are we going to fight them?" she asked softly.
"Maybe," Zhang Yi answered calmly. "But I need to prepare. There are far more enemies this time."
"I understand."
She resumed the massage without another question. She'd learned his moods: when he was serious, it was best not to prod. She would do her part.
She moved behind him, palms warm and practiced on his shoulders, applying pressure in just the right places. Recently she'd learned a new technique, and she worked it up into his scalp. Zhang Yi's eyes fluttered; the scalp pressure sent pleasant tingles through his nerves.
"Feels good," he murmured.
Zhou Ke'er blushed. "I'm glad. I only learned it recently."
Relaxed and clear-headed, Zhang Yi replayed his plan. If every leader came tomorrow, he'd kill them. If not, he'd feign agreement, hide his strength, and use time to fracture their alliance before striking. Patience, he thought. A hunter waits; haste brings mistakes.
He texted Uncle You. The reply came instantly: "Tell me what to do. I'm with you."
Zhang Yi had won Uncle You with small favors and by proving himself. Now Uncle You followed orders without hesitation. Tomorrow would be a test—and Zhang Yi would be ready.