Chapter 8 Second Acknowledgment

Chapter 8: Second Contract

"Mr. Ji, will this do?"

Ji An looked down and saw Tang Ning handing him an egg. Tang Ning was practically drooling but had still managed to part with it.

In the post-apocalyptic world, eggs were far from a casual snack—they were priceless. Animals had mutated, and even the most ordinary chickens from before the apocalypse had become deadly fighters. Raising them for eggs was nearly impossible, not to mention that some chickens were contaminated by the zombie virus and inedible.

Eggs had naturally become even more precious.

This egg was something Tang Ning had scavenged from Tang Tang. Such a treasure—if anyone else had gotten their hands on it, they would’ve devoured it shell and all.

But Tang Tang had so many she didn’t even eat them—she’d boil them just to throw them away.

Such extravagance was something even Ji An didn’t live that lavishly. He got just four eggs a month, which was already considered generous at the base.

Tang Ning couldn’t possibly afford such a luxurious lifestyle. So where did her extravagance come from?

This had Chen Chen written all over it!

"You eat it. I don’t need it." Ji An wasn’t short of eggs, so the sight of the dirty hand holding it turned his stomach.

Though Chen Chen and Tang Tang were a trashy couple, Ji An’s living conditions weren’t bad. Otherwise, he’d have bailed ages ago.

It was precisely because the two had acted so convincingly, with Chen Chen playing the devoted lover, that Ji An had been deceived.

If he hadn’t exposed their Achilles’ heel yesterday, Chen Chen would’ve kept up the "eternal love" charade.

Tang Ning sneaked a look at Ji An’s hands. He held only a necklace—nothing else.

Ji An was completely alone, without even a bag. Where could he possibly hide food?

Besides, Ji An was different from her. He lived with Chen Chen and his mother. Even if he wanted to escape, he couldn’t have hidden supplies in advance. That old miser, Chen’s mother, was notorious in the base for counting every grain—she’d notice if someone ate even one extra rice grain.

Tang Ning knew she was filthy all over, and Ji An was grossed out by her touch. But these were desperate times. Just as she was about to try persuading him again, she suddenly saw Ji An flash a strange smile—and then a large chicken leg popped into his hand.

Ji An had just used his psychic energy to form a secondary contract with the necklace. He wasn’t afraid of damaging it.

If he couldn’t open it, only Tang Tang could. And he’d sooner burn it all than leave those supplies for her.

As for killing Tang Tang and trying to re-contract the necklace—Ji An couldn’t wait that long. He wanted her to live, to suffer in agony for a long, long time.

Most importantly, after thinking it through, Ji An concluded that a spineless coward like Tang Tang couldn’t possibly have the mental strength to forge an unbreakable “mutual destruction” contract with the necklace.

At most, it was a flimsy contract he could break anytime—and he was right.

Tang Ning’s jaw dropped so far she could’ve stuffed the egg right in.

"Mr. Ji... how did you make something appear out of nowhere? Did you awaken a spatial psychic ability?" Tang Ning didn’t know the secret of the necklace. She had only overheard bits and pieces, catching only that Ji An was a psychic ability user.

Ji An neither confirmed nor denied it. Instead, he pulled another chicken leg from his space and tossed it to Tang Ning. "For you."

Tang Ning wanted to refuse, but she was meat-starved. It had been years since she’d last tasted it—she’d almost forgotten what it was like.

Her hands moved on autopilot. Before she realized it, the chicken leg was in her mouth.

"Oh god, meat! This is real meat! The flavor—it’s amazing!"

Unlike Tang Ning, who wolfed hers down, Ji An ate his chicken leg with deliberate slowness. Anyone watching might’ve thought he was leisurely enjoying a candlelit dinner rather than fleeing for his life.

The chicken leg wasn’t packaged—it wasn’t pre-apocalypse supplies either. It must have been freshly made during the apocalypse, probably marinated or braised. Since time didn’t flow inside the space, the food remained fresh forever and still tasted just like it had just been cooked.

The flavor was great. Such a delicacy was truly a luxury in the apocalypse. Even superpowered people who weren’t short on meat would at most boil it with salt.

Yet Tang Tang could afford to be picky about taste, going so far as to make marinades.

Ji An never knew Tang Tang’s life had been this extravagant.

That probably explained why there was so much food in her space—nearly matching the base’s stockpile.

There were also more than a dozen space-type cores and five or six healing-type cores inside.

Additionally, Ji An found a stack of papers in a corner. He discovered they were his payment records from missions completed for the base, bearing Tang Tang’s signature as the handler and Chen Chen’s signature as the base commander.

Ji An’s expression darkened. Hadn’t they been saying he’d worked for free all these years? Then why did these records exist?

The receipts detailed every mission he had taken—specific months and years, along with the corresponding rewards.

Some missions Ji An vaguely remembered, and the listed rewards seemed fair.

*"February 16, 2132: Livestock culling mission. Reward: Half a mutated pig, two whole mutated rabbits, five mutated eggs, ten pounds of grain."*

*"May 2, 2130: Supply run. Reward: One hundred pounds of grain, one hundred pounds of flour, five barrels of cooking oil, ten pounds of sugar."*

He had some memory of that one—they had found a small grain shop filled with supplies.

Base rules dictated that seventy percent went to the public reserves, while thirty percent was distributed as rewards based on contribution.

*"November 25, 2133: Base maintenance duty. Reward: Fifty pounds of grain, twenty liters of oil, ten pounds of meat, ten pounds of sugar cubes, one pound of vegetables, five apples."*

Ji An only skimmed a few before stopping—there were simply too many receipts.

But from those few glimpses, he already had a rough idea of how much he had earned over the years!

With these supplies alone, not only could he live comfortably himself, but he could keep several people in comfort.

Not that he was losing out now—the items in this space far exceeded what he had earned.

Aside from what Tang Tang and Chen Chen had legitimately obtained, the rest must have been embezzled by them.

Now, all of it belonged to him.

With this much food, even if he lived wastefully every single day from now on, it would last him across multiple lifetimes.

Ji An gave a humorless chuckle and withdrew his psychic power from the space, imposing a second binding pact—the most binding type, where if he died, the space would perish with him.

Just then, he finished the chicken leg and took a few sips of water before saying to Tang Ning, “I still have a few barrels of oil in my space. Let’s find a car with keys and drive away.”

“Alright.” Tang Ning suddenly felt that Ji An was enigmatic, hiding many secrets.

While everyone in the base thought he was ordinary, he had actually secretly awakened as a psychic superpowered long ago. And just when she assumed he only had psychic abilities, he revealed spatial powers as well.

Perhaps Ji An had noticed something off about Tang Tang and Chen Chen early on. Though, as far as Tang Ning knew, the two hadn’t crossed any lines yet, their occasional glances were thick with unspoken tension—they’d cross that line eventually.

Ji An must have realized it too. So after awakening his abilities at some point, he stayed silent, playing the long game to secretly gather enough resources to escape. That was a logical move—confronting Chen Chen head-on was never an option.

Never mind whether Ji An could take on Chen Chen directly—Chen Chen was the base commander. Opposing him meant opposing the entire base. No lone wolf could survive against a pack. Better to cut and run—as the saying goes, where there’s life, there’s hope.

Tang Ning thought she had figured out the truth and felt rather clever, raising her chin slightly as she began checking the parked cars along the street one by one, hoping to find one with keys inside.

"Over here, come," Ji An waved, and Tang Ning hurried over.

Ji An refueled the tank and said, "Can you drive? If so, take over later. If not, I'll teach you—it's simple, just learn the difference between the brake and accelerator."

After all, the apocalypse had left the streets deserted. Aside from superpowered people on missions, ordinary people rarely left the base. As for superpowered, they were almost never seen on the roads. Their superpowered physiques meant even a collision wouldn’t kill them—they wouldn’t even get a scratch.

"I have a license, but no real driving experience," Tang Ning gulped. This was pretty hardcore.

Ji An nodded—that was enough. In the apocalypse, people drove without licenses all the time.

The two took turns driving, with Tang Ning handling only the easier sections. Ji An would guide her on the route and when to switch.

If they encountered lone zombies, they’d stop to deal with them.

After all, zombies had Zombie Cores in their brains—these were the apocalypse’s universal currency, like cash in the pre-apocalypse world, exchangeable for supplies.

The reason Zombie Cores replaced traditional currency was that superpowered people needed them to level up their superpowers.

However, not every zombie had a core, just like not all humans had superpowers.

Moreover, the cores came in different grades, as zombies themselves evolved. Higher-level zombies were more dangerous and responsive. A low-level superpowered person facing a high-level zombie alone would be at a disadvantage. Against an equal-level zombie, victory depended on individual skill.

To advance their superpower level, superpowered had to absorb cores matching their superpower type—though you could only level up, not down.

Superpower levels were divided into seven grades, each with three stages: initial, intermediate, and peak.

Initial and intermediate stages could be leveled up by absorbing same-level cores. But once at peak, same-level cores became useless—only higher-grade cores could trigger advancement.

Superpower energy, like stamina, depleted with prolonged use. They could recover through rest or by quickly absorbing cores.

High-grade cores restored energy the fastest, same-level cores were slower, and low-grade cores were the slowest.

Ji An and Tang Ning took turns driving nonstop for four days, finally arriving at their destination just as their stored gasoline ran out.

It was a small village far from the capital, its houses dilapidated, showing no trace of what it looked like seven years ago before the apocalypse.

"Hss… haa…" A slow-moving zombie shambled out from a street corner. Having not seen living beings in a long time, it made a weird, excited sound upon spotting the two.

"Take it out!" Ji An ordered. "Don’t let its cries attract more."

Zombies had almost no vision—they relied on smell and hearing to locate living creatures.

Anything with flesh and blood, whether human or livestock, was fair game for zombies.

"Got it." Tang Ning grabbed an axe and jumped out of the car. It was her time to shine. Even as an ordinary person, she wanted to prove to Ji An that she wasn't completely helpless.