Zhou Peng, receiving no response, intensified his knocking on the door.
"Zhang Yiru, Zhang Yiru! It's me, Zhou Peng!"
"Open the door; I have something important to tell you."
With a cold laugh, Zhang Yiru took out his gun and clicked off the safety.
Approaching the door, he asked, "Who is it?"
Hearing Zhang Yiru's response, Zhou Peng quickly gestured to Fang Yuqing and Lin Cainong below, signaling them to be ready.
The two women, new to the world of murder, felt some nervousness. But the thought of taking over Zhang Yiru's warm, comfortable, and well-stocked house after eliminating him made their gaze firm.
Zhou Peng pleaded, "Zhang Yiru, it's me, Zhou Peng. We've run out of food at home, and considering our colleagueship, could you spare us some?"
Although his expression was one of pleading, Zhou Peng quietly prepared to draw his knife.
Leaning against the door, Zhang Yiru calmly stated, "We don't have any food left either. I can't help you with that."
Fang Yuqing and Lin Cainong cursed silently. How could he not have any food? There were seven or eight boxes of food in his kitchen, including dried scallops, dried bonito, and abalones—though all of them were fake.
Prepared for such a situation, Zhou Peng clenched his teeth and took out a box of medicine from his pocket.
"Zhang Yiru, I won't take advantage of you for nothing! I'll exchange a box of ibuprofen with you."
In the cold weather, many people were suffering from colds and fevers. Medicine could be life-saving in such circumstances, its value not necessarily less than that of food.
To entice Zhang Yiru to open the door, Zhou Peng revealed his treasured ibuprofen.
Behind the door, Zhang Yiru contemplated how to deal with them. Kill them? That was easy, whether with a gun or a crossbow, he could end their lives. However, a straightforward kill seemed too boring. In the apocalypse, death was a release; living was the real hell. Zhang Yiru wouldn't let these bastards off so easily.
After some thought, Zhang Yiru made up his mind. He walked to the trash bin and took out a pulsating bottle.
Having consumed several cans of beer, nature called at the right time. He aimed at the bottle's opening and released a cascade of liquid.
"Ibuprofen? Not bad. Let me think about it."
Zhang Yiru chatted lazily with Zhou Peng while pouring out the liquid. Outside, the people heard the faint sound of water, but they couldn't figure out what Zhang Yiru was doing. However, Zhang Yiru's casual tone made their faces show excitement.
Quickly, Zhou Peng said, "Yes, yes, open the door, and let's make an exchange. I don't need much, just two packs of instant noodles!"
According to the current prices in the neighborhood, ibuprofen could fetch at least five packs of instant noodles. Zhou Peng intentionally offered a low price to trick Zhang Yiru into opening the door.
"Two packs of instant noodles? I'm afraid you'll be at a loss. It's embarrassing," Zhang Yiru replied.
Finishing the liquid release, Zhang Yiru suddenly held a bottle of iced tea, full to the brim and frothing with white bubbles.
Thinking Zhang Yiru was about to fall into his trap, Zhou Peng leaned against the door.
"No worries. I'm starving now, and we're colleagues. It's better to give you a good deal. Come on, open the door!"
Stepping onto a stool, Zhang Yiru climbed to the shooting hole on the door, then, facing the three people outside, poured a bottle of freshly brewed iced tea over them.
Zhou Peng and the others were caught off guard by the sudden liquid shower and were initially pleased with the warmth. But within a second, they smelled a pungent odor.
"What... what is this?!"
"Hey, it's hot water, still steaming!"
Feeling the warmth at first, they soon sensed a distinct and unpleasant smell.
"This... this is urine!"
"Ah!"
Drenched in urine, the two women screamed like pigs being slaughtered and immediately started vomiting, crouching on the ground.
Zhou Peng, enraged, pounded on the door.
"Zhang Yiru, you bastard! Come out, I'll kill you!"
However, the heavy alloy door showed no sign of yielding. Instead, Zhou Peng's hands ached from the forceful pounding.
Inside the room, Zhang Yiru laughed heartily.
"How's the taste of my urine? Good or not?"
"You idiots wanted to set me up. Dream on!"
Zhou Peng and the others realized they had been discovered.
Angry and helpless, they cursed at Zhang Yiru through the door.
Zhou Peng shouted, "Damn it, I shouldn't have talked nonsense with you! Wait for me; I'll get in and kill you!"
No longer holding back, Zhou Peng pulled a knife from his clothes and swung it at the door, determined to break it open.
Ordinary doors were usually wooden and breaking the lock would allow entry. However, Zhang Yiru's door was made of integrated alloy, capable of withstanding RPG explosions!
Zhou Peng's swing, equivalent to striking a steel plate, left the door unscathed. The tremendous recoil from the impact sent the knife flying, cutting a long gash in Zhou Peng's forehead.
As blood flowed from his forehead, Zhou Peng was momentarily stunned. The knife had nearly hit his face.
But soon, the intense pain shattered his stupor.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!"
Zhou Peng wailed in pain. Fang Yuqing and Lin Cainong, fearing for their lives, abandoned Zhou Peng and fled.
Inside the room, Zhang Yiru looked at the scene, weighing his gun, contemplating whether to go out and shoot them. Even if he didn't kill them, they would be left in a sorry state in this icy post-apocalyptic world.
After some contemplation, he abandoned this plan.
Why?
Because outside were three mad dogs!
Although there was a high probability of injuring them by opening the door, there was also a fractional chance of being killed. Zhang Yiru wasn't willing to play with his life like that. Yes, he was the king of pragmatism! His life was comfortable; there was no need for unnecessary risks.
"No worries; I'll stay here and let them die. Let's see how long they can survive in this apocalyptic world!"
Calm and composed, Zhang Yiru returned to the sofa and resumed playing games.
Zhou Peng and Fang Yuqing hurriedly returned home, and Zhou Peng, sitting on the sofa, shivered all over.
He had narrowly escaped death, and even now, he was still haunted by the experience.
Seeing the urine on his body, Fang Yuqing immediately screamed.
"Ah! Get away! Who allowed you to sit on my sofa!"