Chapter Eleven: Alice's Gift
The ninth one! Guo Lang pulled out the short sword he’d just driven into his opponent’s throat, then looked up and finally saw the building of the community supermarket. He had to thank his luck that this was a villa neighborhood; if it had been one of those massive apartment complexes with thirty-four floors and over a thousand residents per building, he wouldn’t have dared step outside—being surrounded by hundreds of the undead in seconds would have been normal. And given the zombies’ traits, relying on the terrain to evade them was nearly impossible!
The supermarket in the community was enormous, a joint enterprise with the real estate developer, catering exclusively to the affluent residents here. The quality and standard of goods far surpassed those in supermarkets for ordinary citizens. Even basics like rice, oil, salt, and daily necessities, as well as tobacco, alcohol, and tea, were all of luxury grade. Take the simplest olive oil, for instance: this supermarket only stocked the finest, a specialty of Nair State Island in the Federation, as rare and expensive as the blue nation’s coffee beans—a bottle could cost around ten thousand Federation credits. Only the wealthy residents here could afford such things; the neighborhood’s reputation for nobility was well-earned. This meant that if Guo Lang wanted to buy something cheap, he’d have to rely on Alice to shop online for him!
Despite the supermarket’s vast area, Guo Lang didn’t see a single staff member as he slipped inside. The place was in disarray, bloodstains and remains littered the floor, but not a single living person or corpse could be seen. That made him extra wary. It was normal for other places to be deserted, but this supermarket alone employed over a dozen people—how could there be no sign of anyone?
His cautious nature told him he should do a quick search, just in case a group suddenly rushed out when he let his guard down. But now, with anxiety gnawing at him, Guo Lang couldn’t spare the time. He headed straight for the front desk, pushed aside a toppled shelf, and hurriedly switched on the computer to pull up the day’s surveillance footage, skipping to the moment when Alice had left home that morning.
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Date: The first day of the apocalypse, 10 a.m.
“Hi, Alice, here to shop alone again?” An elderly man, pushing a shopping cart at the entrance, asked kindly as Alice bounced into the supermarket.
Turning, Alice saw the casually dressed old man and greeted him with a sweet, adorable smile: “Good morning, Grandpa Wick!” He was one of the few people Alice had gotten to know in the year since moving in. A retired politician, his years of hard work had left him with a generous fortune. His wife had passed away, and his children, all business elites, rarely visited; he mostly lived alone.
Seeing the little girl’s smile was like catching the first rays of dawn, filling the old man with joy. He wanted very much to reach out and pinch her cheek, but his cautious, old-politician instinct restrained him. Though he’d known Alice for a year and she was always so polite, his keen perception told him she was a distant, indifferent child—always keeping others at arm’s length. As someone who loved children, he could never quite get close to her.
“Good morning, Alice!” The old man exaggerated a gentleman’s bow, making the girl giggle. Their conversation was clearly congenial, yet there remained a subtle formality. Wick was a man of refinement, apparent from his attire—so different from the usual careless look of the elderly. The scene was one of a dignified old gentleman and a polite little girl, their rapport evident, though they did not seem like real grandfather and granddaughter.
“What are you shopping for today, Alice?” Wick asked with amusement, remembering that the girl often shopped for groceries by herself, far more sensible than most children her age.
“I’m planning to buy ingredients for Tang cuisine. Have you ever tried Tang cuisine, Grandpa Wick? Any recommendations?”
“Of course, my little princess.” Wick smiled kindly. Tang cuisine was the Federation’s name for the cuisine of the Red Hawk Republic. Together with Winter cuisine and French cuisine, it was counted among the world’s three greatest. In his political days, Wick had attended every sort of banquet and often tasted Tang cuisine.
“It covers many styles and schools. Which kind are you thinking of making?”
“It’s my first time, so something simple, I guess…” Alice stuck out her tongue, her cute expression making Wick laugh.
“Then go with the Hongchuan school—home-style dishes, not too complicated, and the flavors are crowd-pleasers.”
“Great! What should I buy, then?” Alice took Wick’s hand of her own accord, and the child’s warmth made him very happy. He patiently explained the ingredients she’d need.
“How fragrant!” As they were picking out Hongchuan-style pickled peppers from the shelf, a hoarse voice suddenly sounded right next to Alice’s ear. The cheerful Alice froze.
It was a woman’s voice, but hoarse, as if parched for years—a desperate, thirsty sound, tinged with longing.
Alice slowly turned her head and saw a face so pale it was almost bloodless, with cloudy, whitish eyes. She recognized her at once as the woman from the deli counter, but her appearance was very different—was she ill? The thing that unsettled Alice most was the intense hunger in the woman’s gaze, reminiscent of the way starving children in disaster zones once stared at the bread in her hand. But this time, the object of desire was Alice herself, not the bread, and it sent a chill through her.
“Are you talking about the pickled peppers?” The little girl took a step backward without betraying her fear, picking up a jar as if nothing was wrong, her face all innocence.
“I mean you.” The woman crouched lower, leaning forward, her eyes growing even more fervent.
The bluntness of it made Alice’s hand tremble, nearly dropping the jar. Even so, she kept smiling and remained polite: “Thank you!”
The woman froze, her body stiffening. Wick, unable to watch any longer, spoke sternly, “You’re scaring her!”
The old man’s words, delivered with the gravitas of a seasoned politician, made the woman waver. A flicker of struggle crossed her face before she slowly straightened and bowed stiffly: “Sorry.” Her voice was heavy and laborious. Wick’s frown deepened, and he was about to say more when Alice tugged at his hand, so he kept silent.
The woman left, but she would occasionally glance their way, her gaze making Alice’s skin crawl. Despite her fear, Alice remained calm, continuing to select ingredients from the shelves.
After a while, they finished shopping and queued at the register. It was the weekend, so there were more people than usual—dozens between staff and customers. Alice tightened her small hand, sensing that the woman from the deli had followed her to the checkout, watching from a distance, her gaze never wavering.
Alice bowed her head, wishing only to leave as soon as possible. Time seemed to crawl under the weight of that stare. Despite the crowd, she could find no sense of safety, and the wait felt interminable. At last, it was her turn at the counter.
“That will be seven thousand five hundred Federation credits,” the cashier said with a friendly smile to the adorable Alice. If Guo Lang had been there, he would have understood why Alice’s mother always transferred money to her in tens of thousands.
“Oh!” Alice finally breathed a sigh of relief, ready to pay, when suddenly the cashier at the next register cried out—she’d cut her hand, and fresh blood welled up!
No one knew why, but this utterly ordinary accident filled Alice with a sudden, overwhelming terror. She snapped her gaze to the corner where the woman had been watching her. Now, the woman’s eyes were fixed on the bleeding cashier’s hand, her pupils contracted to pinpoints, her breathing rapid, and a grotesque grin twisting her face.
“How careless!” Alice’s cashier, seeing her colleague’s injury, looked over in concern. “Disinfect it with alcohol, there are bandages in the back room.”
She turned back to resume Alice’s transaction, but was surprised to find the little girl gone. Where had she gone? She was about to say something when a beast-like snarl drew her attention. She turned towards the sound.
Not just her, but everyone turned towards the snarl. They saw a woman in a red uniform, but her appearance was terrifying—her eyes were milky white, her mouth twisted in a monstrous grin. The sight made everyone recoil in panic; one particularly sensitive woman screamed outright.
That scream seemed to break some invisible balance. The woman’s mouth split open, and she threw herself at the bleeding cashier with unnatural speed. Before anyone, even the cashier, could react, she was on her, biting through her carotid artery in a single motion. Blood sprayed across the register. Only then did the rest react, screaming and fleeing; a few quick-thinking people bolted for the exit.
The store’s exit operated on a manual mechanism, allowing only one person through after each payment. In their panic, people tried to clamber over, but the crowd quickly devolved into chaos and trampling. The zombie, grinning maniacally, hurled her first victim aside and lunged at the next.
In an unnoticed corner, Alice, having grabbed Wick, quietly retreated. The old man, his face ashen, let the girl pull him along like a puppet. After several steps, he came to his senses, trembling: “Where are you going?”
“That way’s blocked. We’re going to the back room,” Alice replied, her voice exceptionally calm.
In the chaos, the old man and the little girl slipped silently into the staff quarters at the back. No one—not the panicked crowd, not the rampaging zombie—noticed them.
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Clever girl! Watching this segment of footage, Guo Lang broke into a delighted grin. He’d thought the girl was probably done for, but at the critical moment she’d been incredibly quick-witted. If nothing unexpected happened afterward, she was likely hiding in the staff quarters and stood a good chance of survival.
“Master, go find her! Get out of here as soon as possible!”
“Huh?” Guo Lang was taken aback. “Weren’t you against me rescuing her?”
“This girl has remarkable talent. She’s perfect material for training as a professional!”
“A professional?” Guo Lang’s heart skipped a beat—Little Peach’s evaluation was high indeed.
Professionals were different from ordinary soldiers; you couldn’t make them with low-grade blood serums. They required the high-purity kind, like what Guo Lang had taken. That kind of investment was enormous, especially since the lifeforms of invaded worlds had impure genes and evolved slowly. Only those with extraordinary innate qualities were ever chosen for professional training—sometimes you wouldn’t meet one on an entire planet. Yet this five- or six-year-old girl showed such potential?
Seeing Guo Lang’s doubt, Little Peach explained, “Master, watch every move Alice made—she was almost flawless.”
“First, when she was targeted, that zombie was already at the peak of its transformation. Any provocation could have triggered an immediate change. Despite being frightened, Alice remained calm and polite, careful not to provoke the woman. That’s why the woman didn’t transform and attack her on the spot!”
Little Peach rewound the footage to the moment the chaos broke out. “Then, when she saw the zombie change, she didn’t rush for the exit but chose to hide in a corner, retreating to the staff quarters only after the commotion started. That was a very wise choice. If she had run for the exit straight away, she might have attracted the zombie’s attention, since its initial target was her!”
Guo Lang frowned. Little Peach’s analysis was sound, but that alone didn’t qualify someone as a professional—it only showed that Alice had composure. At her age, that was rare, but it wasn’t the same as professional talent.
Seeing her master’s hesitation, Little Peach added gravely, “The key is her route during the retreat!”
“Her route?”
“The supermarket was in total chaos. Not just the registers, but the shoppers behind were all rushing for the exit. Alice, though, went the other way toward the back. That was wise, but with the zombie’s wide field of vision, her unique movement could easily have been noticed. So why wasn’t she seen?”
“Just lucky, maybe…” Guo Lang muttered.
“How much luck can there be?” Little Peach rolled her eyes. “Notice: Alice never turned her back on the zombie—her eyes stayed on it the whole time. In all that chaos, nobody so much as brushed against her. Not once!”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is, Alice has extraordinary talent—not only is she remarkably calm, she also has a broad field of vision. And she escaped using a special technique!”
“What technique?”
“A blind spot.”
“Get real.” Guo Lang rolled his eyes. The zombie’s field of vision was nearly 360 degrees, always shifting. Unless you were much more agile than it, how could you hide in a blind spot?
“Blind spots aren’t just about angles. Among night assassins, there’s a technique that uses light and the opponent’s retinal grid to create a visual blind spot. If done right, you can stand right in front of someone and they won’t see you. Top-tier assassins can stroll through a palace full of guards as if invisible. It’s called the refraction technique.”
“Refraction?” Guo Lang was stunned. That was something only gold-ranked assassins could do!
“What you saw was Alice’s biological instinct activating. That’s a gift—the mark of a top assassin in the making. We have to find her!” Little Peach was urgently insistent.
Good grief! Guo Lang’s mind reeled, as if he were hearing a story. Yet, watching the footage, it almost made sense, even if it was hard to accept. Refraction technique? Damn, in his past life he’d only heard of it. As a mediocre bronze knight, he’d never even seen such advanced skills, yet this five-year-old girl had it naturally? Who was the protagonist here—her or him?
Then again, it was probably for the best he’d never seen it. If an assassin had ever used that technique on him, he wouldn’t have lived to see the next day. Little Peach’s explanation filled Guo Lang with a deep sense of inferiority. No wonder his previous life had been so mediocre—faced with people who were born overpowered, what chance did a left-handed nobody like him have?
He sighed, but didn’t hesitate further, and strode quickly toward the staff quarters.