The two returned to the inn before the afternoon began to fade. In the ground-floor lobby, a few people were exchanging batteries for clean water, talking quietly without avoiding them. When they saw the pair pass by, their gazes only flickered over them once before moving on.
Entering the room, Lam Thanh Moc closed the door and leaned her back against it.
"So, what do we do next?" she asked.
Thuong Sinh placed his sword against the wall and sat down in a chair.
"Pick a side," he said.
The next morning.
The two left the inn quite early. Mist still lingered on the corrugated iron roofs and old iron door frames. The streets were beginning to show movement.
Lam Thanh Moc noticed that today, the gazes of others lingered a bit longer. She lightly tugged on Thuong Sinh's sleeve.
"Should we go and ask directly?" she whispered.
"Yeah," he replied.
They stopped in front of a stall selling old mechanical parts. The seller was an old man, hands stained with oil and grease, his wrist wrapped in a dim black thread, very discreetly.
"We want to stay in Luc Thuy for a long time," Thuong Sinh said bluntly. "Where should we go?"
The old man did not look up, only flipping a piece of metal in his hand.
"Everyone knows the three factions." He chuckled softly. "By asking like this... you're looking for the Black side."
Lam Thanh Moc tightened her grip slightly. "Where?" she asked.
Only then did the old man look up, his eyes sharper than his true age.
"Leave the commercial district."
"Head toward the old water filtration plant on the edge of the city. Look for a collapsed concrete wall, half-painted black, with no flags flying."
"That's the spot."
"But I'm warning you," his voice dropped. "That side doesn't accept the weak."
"And they don't hide people."
Thuong Sinh nodded. "That's enough."
The old man looked at him for one more beat, then turned away, acting as if the conversation had never happened.
The old water filtration plant lay outside the main residential area, surrounded by abandoned factories and rusted pipelines. There were no overt guards. No signs. No one standing to block the way.
There were only scattered black marks.
The two stepped into the factory yard.
Inside were about a dozen people. They didn't look like Luc Thuy's regular soldiers, nor like the thugs of the Ding Stone Society. Each person stood at a specific position—some sitting on cracked filtration tanks, some leaning against pillars, hands sharpening knives or checking ammunition. Absolutely no one spoke. It was a terrifying silence, but it was the kind of silence of predators who understood the rules of the game all too well.
A man leaning against a filtration tank, arms crossed, broke the silence with a raspy voice: "Newcomers?"
"Yeah," Thuong Sinh replied.
"Want to hang the mark?"
"Want to stay," Thuong Sinh said.
The man looked directly into Thuong Sinh's eyes, as if trying to pierce through his thoughts: "There is no protection here, no ranks, and no one stands up to take responsibility for you."
"If you die in some corner, we won't pick up the corpse. Conversely, if you cause trouble, we won't clean it up."
He raised his wrist, where an old but sturdy black thread was clearly visible under the murky light: "There is only one rule: No betrayal, no selling people out, no dragging the faction into your personal business. Can you do it?"
Thuong Sinh asked: "And what about life and death?"
The man smiled very slightly. "That's your own business."
Thuong Sinh did not hesitate. "Fine."
The man watched him for a few seconds, then produced two black threads from somewhere and tossed them over.
Thuong Sinh caught one and gave the other to Lam Thanh Moc.
"Tie it."
Thuong Sinh and Lam Thanh Moc both tied them neatly around their sleeves at the wrist.
Lam Thanh Moc looked at the black thread in her hand, then at the man: "Is that it?"
"Correct. From now on, you are no longer nameless."
"No one protects you."
"No one holds you accountable."
"But no one is permitted to touch you just because you are weak."
He turned away, his voice calm as if stating the obvious: "In Luc Thuy, the Black side doesn't need to prove loyalty."
"You only need to prove... you are worth existing."
The people in the yard continued their work as before; no one turned to look again. It was as if the two had just stepped into a shadow that had already been there.
Thuong Sinh moved his wrist, feeling the very light black thread.
The man turned to leave, but Thuong Sinh suddenly spoke: "Is it possible to find someone?"
The man turned back immediately, his gaze sharpening slightly.
"Yes."
"You should know, in Luc Thuy, when it comes to eyes and ears..."
"Those three factions look at each other."
"But we, we look at everyone."
Thuong Sinh nodded. "I'm looking for someone."
He didn't waste words.
"A woman."
"About nineteen or twenty years old."
"A Healing Ability."
"Name is Tran Tuyet."
The air in the filtration plant suddenly grew thick. A few guys sharpening knives stopped their hands, glancing toward Thuong Sinh. A Healing Ability was the most precious "asset" in the apocalypse; wherever they were, there was conflict.
The man frowned. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"In Luc Thuy?" he asked further.
"Possibly," Thuong Sinh replied.
Lam Thanh Moc stood beside him, her gaze slightly frozen: A woman, a Healing Ability, and he's actively searching for her.
A series of uncontrollable thoughts began to surface in her mind: Someone from his past? An acquaintance from before the apocalypse? Or... someone he wants to protect?
Her heart skipped a beat, though her face remained calm.
The man asked no more.
"Consider yourself a new member; I won't charge an information fee."
Thuong Sinh nodded. "Thank you."
He turned and left the factory, Lam Thanh Moc following behind.
Leaving the old water filtration plant, the air seemed lighter, but in Lam Thanh Moc's mind, it was the opposite. She walked beside him for a long distance without saying anything.
A very long distance.
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.
"...Tran Tuyet."
She called the name softly, as if testing if the sound of it carried weight.
Thuong Sinh: "Mhm."
"...Who is she?" she asked.
It was an ordinary question, but in her heart, she was racking her brain.
What if it's a lover? What if it's someone he's been looking for for a long time? Then what... am I?
Thuong Sinh was silent for a few steps.
"Someone I used to travel with," he said concisely.
Lam Thanh Moc faltered for half a beat. "In the past?"
"Yeah."
She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice normal. "Close?"
Thuong Sinh thought for a moment. "Not exactly."
That answer didn't ease her heart much.
"...Then why are you looking for her?" she asked, her voice slower.
Thuong Sinh looked straight ahead.
"Because she is still alive."
"And I need to find some related people."
Lam Thanh Moc pursed her lips.
Is that all?
If that's all, why am I so uncomfortable?
She hesitated for a moment, then asked directly: "You once said that at the school, you met a group of survivors."
"Is she related to that?"
Thuong Sinh nodded. "Yes."
He stopped walking, leaning against a rusted railing by the road.
"At that time, I was traveling with them and encountered a low-tier mutated zombie."
"We fought, and I was bitten."
Lam Thanh Moc snapped her head toward him, staring intently.
"You were actually bitten?!"
The question burst out faster than he expected.
Thuong Sinh faltered.
One second.
Two seconds.
He realized he had slipped up; in the eyes of a normal person, being bitten was no different from being handed a death sentence.
"...No," he replied immediately, his voice shorter than usual. "Not bitten."
Lam Thanh Moc looked at him without blinking: "Then what was it?"
"Claws," he corrected. "I was grazed by claws."
"The flesh was torn, but there was no infection."
He spoke very briefly, very decisively.
Leaving no opening for a follow-up question.
Lam Thanh Moc watched him for a few seconds; she wasn't a fool, but she didn't press him.
"So they abandoned you?" she asked more quietly.
"Yeah."
"Because they were afraid?"
"Because they assumed I wouldn't pull through," Thuong Sinh said. "I didn't try to keep them either."
Lam Thanh Moc fell silent.
A long while later, she spoke very softly: "You aren't angry?"
"I was," he replied. "But it's not important."
"Let's go," he said, his voice deep but no longer as cold as before. "It's nearly dark."
Lam Thanh Moc watched his back. The jealousy in her heart had vanished. There was only one very clear feeling: The person before her had been left behind, and he remembers it very well.
The sunset enveloped the two long shadows cast on the road. The black threads on their wrists glistened under the fading light—like a new link between two souls already too accustomed to being forgotten.