Inside the camp, it was far noisier than outside.
The smell of kitchen smoke and the sweat of the living mingled together. Tents were crowded; in some places, modified shipping containers stood, while in others, there were only iron frames covered with tarps. There weren't many people walking around, but eyes were always flickering, evaluating, and memorizing.
Thuong Sinh slowed his pace slightly, enough to observe the overall layout: high positions, retreat routes, weapon stockpiles, and weak points in the perimeter fence.
Lam Thanh Moc followed closely behind him, silent but also observing.
Khuong Liet led them through a path in the center of the camp, speaking in a low voice as they walked: "This isn't a safe zone. But it's not a cheap bandit den either."
"If you want to stay, you must have value."
"What kind of value?" Lam Thanh Moc asked.
Khuong Liet glanced at her and chuckled.
"Survival, and not causing others to die pointlessly."
He stopped in front of a relatively clean patch of ground with an old corrugated iron roof; behind it was a gray-painted container.
"Stay here for now."
"Water is shared. For food, fend for yourselves, or take on jobs."
"What kind of jobs?" Thuong Sinh asked.
"Clearing zombies outside the camp perimeter." "Escorting scavenging teams." "Or..." Khuong Liet paused, his gaze sharpening. "Maintaining order when someone forgets the rules."
Thuong Sinh nodded.
"I choose the first one."
Khuong Liet smiled faintly and asked no further questions. He turned to leave, but before departing, he said: "There are strong people here, and there are those who like to test the strong."
"If you don't want trouble, make your moves during the first three days decisive enough for people to remember."
Thuong Sinh did not reply.
Once Khuong Liet had vanished from sight, Lam Thanh Moc let out a soft breath.
"At least it's not a lawless place."
"No," Thuong Sinh said. "It's just that the rules are set by those with power."
He set his backpack down and leaned his sword against the side of the container. Less than half an hour later, eyes began to linger more overtly. A group of three men stood near the communal water area, pretending to talk but constantly glancing toward them.
Lam Thanh Moc saw them clearly.
"What do you plan to do?" she whispered.
Thuong Sinh removed his gloves and re-wrapped the bandages on his sword hilt to make them tighter. "Nothing."
He stood up and walked straight toward the group, neither fast nor slow. The three men stiffened as they saw him approaching. A thin, sharp-eyed man tried to smile: "Just looking, friend—"
Thud—!
Thuong Sinh kicked straight into the man's knee. It didn't shatter, but the leg collapsed instantly. As the other two moved, the hilt of his sword was already pressed against one's neck, while his foot stomped down on the wrist of the one holding a knife.
There were no words, but the sound of teeth chattering in fear was audible.
"You've seen enough. Next time, stay away."
He retracted his sword and turned his back. No one dared block him; no one dared speak. From that moment, Kinh Bac Camp remembered these two, even without knowing their names.
Lam Thanh Moc watched his back for a long time before turning away. She didn't ask if he had gone too far, nor did she tell him to be softer. In a place like this, being hard enough to avoid being looked down upon was the choice that spilled the least blood.
No one else took the initiative to approach their area, but the atmosphere in the camp had shifted. The curiosity and scrutiny were gone. Several men who had been leaning lazily against walls now stood straighter. Some quietly pulled their companions away from their line of sight.
Thuong Sinh sat down, leaning against the cold iron wall, closing his eyes to regulate his breath. He did not circulate the [Vile Blood Heart-Corroding Art]; he simply slowed his breathing, keeping his body in its most stable state.
A while later, footsteps stopped at his position.
"A decisive hand, indeed."
Khuong Liet's voice rang out, devoid of reproach.
Thuong Sinh opened his eyes.
"It served its purpose."
Khuong Liet chuckled softly.
"I don't want trouble," Thuong Sinh said.
Khuong Liet said nothing, only speaking before he left: "Tonight, a team is heading out beyond the eastern perimeter. If you want to scavenge and earn points, show up."
Khuong Liet departed.
The air around them gradually returned to its old rhythm.
Lam Thanh Moc sat down next to Thuong Sinh, her back against the container. She looked out at the camp, where cooking fires were starting to burn as night fell.
"You did the right thing," she whispered.
Thuong Sinh didn't look at her and said nothing.
A short silence followed.
"You didn't hesitate," Lam Thanh Moc continued. "But you didn't overdo it either."
Thuong Sinh tilted his head slightly. "If you kill someone here, it triggers a chain reaction." "If you step back, they will take a step forward." He paused for a beat. "I simply chose the path of least trouble."
Lam Thanh Moc nodded slightly.
The sky over Kinh Bac Camp was now filled only with the glow of cooking fires and a few flickering oil lamps around the containers, creating dancing patches of light and shadow.
Thuong Sinh stood up and walked around the camp once, observing from a distance. He needed no guide and asked no questions; everything he saw was memorized: guard positions, entrance and exit routes, assembly points for food and water.
Lam Thanh Moc walked behind him, saying nothing. Those around them gave them a wide berth; the scene from earlier, where the three men were suppressed in less than three seconds, was burned into everyone's minds.
He walked to the eastern edge of the camp. There, the fence was assembled from overturned bus frames and welded steel mesh. Outside was a strip of leveled, empty ground. On the highest watchtower, two guards were on duty, rotating shifts; their movements were weary but not negligent.
Thuong Sinh stopped, standing in the dim glow of an oil lamp, looking out.
Outside the camp, in the darkness, there were low growls. It wasn't one creature, but many voices layered together—distant but not disjointed. It was the familiar sound of zombies gathering, moving by instinct, attracted by something.
"It's more crowded to the east," Lam Thanh Moc asked softly.
"Yeah," Thuong Sinh replied.
"I wonder what they're thinking, heading out at night," she whispered.
Thuong Sinh closed his eyes—not to circulate his technique, but to listen. The sound of claws scratching against cracked asphalt. Faint dragging noises. Even the sound of impacts—irregular, with no signs of mutated zombies.
"It's not a large horde," he said. "But something is attracting them here."
Lam Thanh Moc frowned. "The scent of people?"
"Maybe, or old blood that hasn't been cleaned up yet."
He opened his eyes, scanning the area around the camp: the trash heaps, the disposal pits—the places that seemed familiar but were always the slowest, most persistent killers.
"Khuong Liet said a group would go out tonight," she reminded him.
Thuong Sinh was silent for a few seconds.
"I'll go," he said. He turned to look at her. "You're coming with me."
She didn't ask why; she simply nodded.
The two returned to the container area. Thuong Sinh re-checked his sword; he didn't unwrap the whole bandage, only loosened the hilt so it could be drawn in a single motion. He didn't need to carry heavy gear—it was unnecessary—only taking a waist bag sufficient for a knife, a flashlight, and a few other items if needed.
A while later, a call rang out from the center of the camp.
The outing team consisted of six people: two with guns, three with cold weapons, and one carrying a large backpack. Khuong Liet stood nearby, flicked a glance at Thuong Sinh, and nodded.
"East side, two-kilometer radius," he said.
"Clear anything clinging to the fence. Don't pursue deep."
"Understood," Thuong Sinh replied.
No one asked his name; no one asked what his ability was. They only needed to know: with this man at the head of the formation, the probability of survival was higher.
The camp gate opened just enough of a gap, and the night wind rushed in, carrying a faint metallic stench.
It was significantly darker outside. Just stepping past the boundary of light, Thuong Sinh felt the difference. It wasn't just more dangerous; the rules had changed. Inside the camp were the laws of men. Outside were the laws of the hungry.
He raised his hand to signal a stop.
The whole team immediately halted.
Ahead, about fifty meters away, a low shadow was crawling slowly on the ground, its back abnormally arched and its hind legs dragging. Its skin was darkened and mottled; every movement produced the sound of friction against the concrete.
It was a zombie—not a common type. It wasn't fast, but it seemed stubborn.
"Let me," a man with a gun stepped up, raising his weapon.
Thuong Sinh shook his head. "No shooting."
He took a step forward, lowering his body, shifting his center of gravity to his toes. The sword was half-unwrapped; there was no sword intent, and certainly no sound of wind.
One step. Two steps.
The zombie turned its head.
Zip—!
A clean cut right at the neck, angled to avoid the hardest bone. The head hit the ground before the body could even collapse.
It made no loud noise and attracted nothing else. Thuong Sinh retracted his sword, glancing around. In the further darkness, there were two more movements.
"Next," he said.
The team began to follow him at a proper distance. No one doubted his leadership anymore.
Lam Thanh Moc walked close to him, her ability spreading thin across the ground. No vines grew, but every small vibration reached her ears.
"There's something else," she whispered.
"Not like the one just now."
Thuong Sinh nodded. "I know."
He had already smelled it in the wind—old blood mixed with a metallic scent and something slightly sweet: the sign of a zombie that had absorbed a crystal but hadn't stabilized yet.
He neither accelerated nor slowed. At this stage, he didn't need to show off; he only needed to kill quickly, at the right moment, and leave enough fear for the rest to stay away.
The darkness ahead wavered slightly.
Thuong Sinh walked to the edge of an abandoned container where the oil lamp light couldn't reach.
The wind hissed through the steel gaps; a shadow below moved, then stopped as if hesitating. Thuong Sinh stood still, neither drawing his sword nor emitting killing intent.
Lam Thanh Moc frowned slightly; she felt something moving beneath the ground, rising gradually.
"Three seconds," she whispered.
Thuong Sinh nodded.
Two seconds. One second.
The dark shadow erupted from the ground. Its body was long and gaunt, joints cracking. Mutated arms extended like scythes with hooked black claws. The sweet, pungent stench of blood surged forward.
In that exact moment.
Thuong Sinh took half a step forward—neither fast nor slow—just one sound.
Thud!
The sword blade drove straight through the chin, piercing the brain, and was withdrawn instantly. Before the zombie could even roar, its body lost all strength and collapsed to the ground like an empty bag of meat.
Silence followed, save for the light clink of metal as the corpse hit the floor.
Thuong Sinh sheathed his sword, wiping the blade on the corpse's clothes. His movements were as neat as if he had done this hundreds of times.
"Unstable," he said.
"It absorbed a crystal, but the brain hadn't adapted yet."
Lam Thanh Moc looked at the corpse, then at him.
"You intentionally didn't kill it from a distance."
"Yeah."
"Because there are people watching."
He turned his head, glancing back at the team and the guards above who had just witnessed him killing the creature from beneath the earth. They didn't dare utter a word, and certainly didn't dare look him in the eye.
"Let's go," he whispered. "This area will be safe until morning."
Lam Thanh Moc followed behind, retracting her ability.
The two left the container area, their footsteps gradually merging into the sparse lights of the camp.
No one dared speak or ask questions; no one dared hold them back. The night guards stood as still as wooden statues, only daring to breathe heavily once Thuong Sinh's shadow had completely vanished. On the ground behind Thuong Sinh, the bloodstains hadn't even dried yet, and no one dared approach to clean them.
Some things are better left exactly as they are.
Beyond the range of the main lights, Thuong Sinh stopped at the edge of the camp, where the iron fence was warped from an impact. Outside was a stretching darkness, mixed with the faint scent of rot, so familiar it almost blended into the air.
He paused for a moment, listening. No sound of crawling, no sound of dragging. He turned and leaned his back against the fence, looking up at the black sky above the camp. No stars, no moon—only a silent expanse of black.
"Where to tomorrow?" she asked.
"The eastern highway."
"There are traces of large-scale movement, but not a horde."
Lam Thanh Moc tilted her head slightly. "Mutated zombies?"
"Maybe. Or people."
She asked no more.
A moment later, he pushed himself off the fence.
"Go to sleep."
"I'll take the first half of the night watch."
Lam Thanh Moc looked at him for a second, then nodded. As she left, Thuong Sinh's shadow merged completely into the dark zone on the camp's edge. The air around him settled, as if the night itself were instinctively avoiding him.
In the distance, in dark corners where no light reached, something moved slightly and then stopped, advancing no further—because it did not dare. The night at Kinh Bac Camp passed very peacefully.