Gazing upon the gun barrel aimed at him, though still a dozen meters away, Arno could already feel the murderous intent radiating from his adversaries. He harbored no doubts that a moment's hesitation on his part would result in them pulling the trigger. Thus, as soon as they had spoken their piece, Arno promptly replied without faltering, "Do not fire..." Raising his hands, he emerged from behind the stone where he had been hiding.

  The robust man, upon realizing that what approached was not a zombie, relaxed somewhat, but his gun remained trained on Arno. Experience had taught him that sometimes, his own kind could be even more ruthless than the undead. He shouted, "Stay right where you are, or I will shoot!"

  Arno had no choice but to comply, saying, "OK, OK. I have no ill intentions; I carry no weapon, and I have no companions."

  The wary woman, guided by the light of her flashlight, approached to verify that Arno indeed had no weapons. After cautiously confirming that no one else was nearby, she finally said to the strong man, "Ethan, lower your weapon. There's no danger here." Then, indicating that the elderly and weak were safe, she began to scrutinize Arno.

  But Arno, too, was sizing her up. Her face was delicate, her skin fair, her hair black and pinned up, giving her an air of valiant grace. Her eyes glinted coldly as she regarded Arno with distrust, and her form-fitting coat accentuated her slender figure, her ample bosom straining against the fabric. By Arno's estimation, she possessed the face of an angel and the figure of a temptress.

  They regarded each other in this manner for some time before the woman finally broke the silence, asking, "Why are you here alone?" This question was not easy to answer, but Arno had already prepared his response, saying, "My team was killed by zombies on the road. I'm the only one who escaped." He smiled, "Arno is my name. May I inquire as to yours?"

  Perhaps sensing a kindred spirit, the beautiful woman's guard seemed to lower. She said, "Cervine!" In a world overrun by zombies, after more than three years of brutal struggle, the chance encounter with another human was a joyous occasion. Perhaps for this reason, Cervine's attitude toward Arno was not as frosty as it might have appeared.

  Upon hearing her name, Arno couldn't help but exclaim, "Such a beautiful name, befitting your lovely visage." Cervine's expression darkened momentarily, but she quickly resumed her haughty demeanor, scoffing, "No matter how pretty, if one lacks ability in this apocalyptic world, one becomes either someone else's plaything or a soulless zombie. Beauty in this world is less useful than a pack of compressed biscuits." With that, she turned to direct the other members of her group as they set up camp by the rocks.

  It was evident that this small group was in dire straits. Three elderly members looked worn and weak, starvation taking its toll on their bodies. Climbing this small hill seemed to have exhausted all their strength. Three teenagers, hardly better off than the elderly, looked pale and frail. As soon as they reached the hilltop, they hurriedly unpacked tents from the back of an injured man and started to set them up.

  They appeared to have been working together for some time, as Cervine and the robust man kept watch, surveying their surroundings with flashlights.

  Arno, observing that they had set up a separate camp, understood that they were still wary of him and withdrew, feeling somewhat rejected. All the commotion had made him hungry, and he looked at his now-cold pot of cola-flavored instant noodles, fashioning two twigs into chopsticks and began to eat.

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  The aroma of instant noodles, especially cooked with cola, had a distinctive fragrance that spread far and wide. As Arno began to eat, the scent wafted all around.

  He had barely managed two bites when he heard hurried footsteps approaching. Three elderly people and three teenagers rushed from their camp, surrounding him desperately. Their eyes were glued to the pot in front of Arno, the rich aroma causing their mouths to water involuntarily. They licked their parched lips, their breathing growing heavy as they struggled to contain themselves.

  Sometime later, Cervine, the strong man, and the injured man also gathered around, their eyes fixed on the noodles, unable to stop swallowing. The tantalizing smell of food had captured them all.

  With a sharp "click," the sound of a bullet being chambered, a burly man suddenly pointed a gun at Arno, growling in a deep voice, "Hand over the food to me, or I will blow your head off instantly." In this apocalyptic world, finding even a morsel of sustenance was an overwhelming task. If the relentless zombies were not impeding progress, the remaining scraps were often pillaged by other survivors. A frail group such as theirs was utterly incapable of acquiring food.

  Arno stared agog at the muscular man, inwardly muttering, "It's just some instant noodles, is there a need for such an exaggerated display?" However, noticing the sinewy veins bulging on the strong man's armed hand, Arno dared not doubt his sincerity, and promptly raised his hands in surrender, saying, "Don't shoot, the noodles are all yours."

  After Arno retreated a dozen steps, all but Cervine and the strong man, the other seven people cheered and gathered around the steel pot containing the noodles. They didn't immediately begin to devour them, but rather an injured man divided the food evenly, distributing it into small iron bowls for each person. The two packs of instant noodles were meager, and the portion each received was scant. But watching them savor every drop of the broth, Arno suddenly understood their desperate plight. This was sustenance.

  Cervine and the strong man also received a share, and without hesitation, gulped down the noodles from their bowls. Such a small amount of noodles could never satisfy their hunger, but having something to eat was a stroke of fortune. After dividing the noodles, the strong man's gun was withdrawn from Arno, and he left to stand guard.

  Cervine, with a blush spreading across her otherwise icy face, approached Arno, apologetically saying, "I am truly sorry for what we did just now..." Arno graciously waved her off, replying, "It's alright, I understand your situation." Cervine spoke softly, a rare tenderness in her voice, "We've been without food for three days, so our behavior was out of desperation. But we won't take your noodles for nothing." She then produced a gold ring from her belongings, saying, "This ring in exchange for the noodles should be sufficient."

  Arno took the ring instinctively, doubting his own reality, and said, "You want to exchange this ring for my noodles?" Cervine, thinking Arno was expecting more, hesitated and then offered a small bracelet, adding, "Is this enough now?" Arno could scarcely believe that two packs of noodles and a few cans of Pepsi, worth barely anything, could be traded for a gold ring and a platinum bracelet. It seemed absurd.

  But he quickly realized the truth of the matter. In this apocalyptic world filled with zombies and barren fields, obtaining food was an arduous challenge. To find sustenance, one had to venture into villages and cities where large quantities of food might still exist. However, these were not easily obtainable, guarded by thousands of zombies, enough to deter anyone. Only heavily armed groups might force their way through to seize a limited supply of food.

  In this grim landscape, paper money had long become worthless. Only assets like gold and diamonds served as currency in this fallen world. It was no exaggeration to say that in this apocalyptic age, food was more precious than gold, and with food, any amount of gold could be obtained. With gold, however, food was not always guaranteed. That was why Cervine was willing to exchange a gold ring and platinum bracelet for two packs of instant noodles.

  Grasping these critical points, Arno suddenly became elated. After all, in his world, the ring and bracelet would fetch at least a few thousand dollars. The profit on the noodles was in the thousands-fold.