Chapter 7: The Malnourished Zombie
Not only fate, but also the Great Sun Buddha and Avalokiteshvara have been watching over this world.
According to the rules of the Undead Pact, everyone’s destiny is preordained. Lin Bei, as an anomaly, must have been noticed long ago.
Whether or not he contacts Kuang Tianyou won’t change anything.
The drawbacks are unknown, but the advantage is clear: he could gain a top-tier bodyguard right by his side.
Earlier, Officer Miao mentioned that Kuang Tianyou has a son, which indicates the world hasn’t yet reset.
Many of the original rules from the first part of the Undead Pact still hold true—for example, those bitten by a general undead become more extreme: the evil grow more malevolent, and the righteous become even more upright.
Kuang Tianyou and Kazuo Yamamoto are typical examples of this.
Lin Bei stroked his chin and made a call. One Kuang Tianyou wasn’t enough; he needed more muscle.
Since this world is filled with hostility toward him, he wouldn’t play along—he would just flip the table outright!
The call was answered quickly, and a brash voice came through the receiver.
“This is Big D, who’s calling?”
“I’m Lin Bei.”
Hearing his name, Big D choked on his arrogance as if his throat had been gripped. He swallowed nervously and asked cautiously, “Mr. Lin, what can I do for you?”
“Disperse your men and find me a few people.”
“Mr. Lin... if you’re asking me to work, it means you think highly of Big D. But I’m currently busy selecting the house’s attendant; manpower might be tight…”
“Are you refusing me?”
Big D jolted and hurried to explain, “No, I just meant it might take a bit longer.”
Lin Bei’s tone turned cold. “I’m giving you three days. If you find those people, the attendant position at Liansheng will be yours. No one can take it from you. That’s final!”
Hearing this, Big D immediately perked up.
Fei Deng, the retired overlord who controls the house attendants at Liansheng, might be formidable, but even with a hundred more guts, he wouldn’t dare cross Lin Bei.
These organizations are just dogs kept by wealthy patrons; if one disobeys, simply replace it with another.
“Mr. Lin, I’ll send my men out right away. Could you describe the people you’re looking for?”
“A fortune-teller named Ma Dalong, probably lurking near school gates; another called He Yingqiu, a cripple who runs an arcade; and see if there’s someone named Li Chi—he’s into horse racing and owes a lot of debts.”
“Understood!”
After hanging up, Big D immediately sprang into action.
He not only dispatched all his subordinates but also called various influential gang leaders with whom he had good relations, asking them to assist in the search.
Big D’s wife frowned at his unusual behavior and asked, “You’ve sent everyone out, but who’s going to deal with those uncles? Without their support, it’ll be hard to convince Uncle Deng to let you take the position.”
Big D shrugged carelessly. “Even if they don’t support me, they can’t stop me. The boss has already promised to back me; whether they agree or not, it won’t matter. Just wait and see — I’m determined to become the next house attendant!”
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Meanwhile, after calling Big D, Lin Bei dialed the number Officer Miao left.
Shortly after, the call connected.
“This is Kowloon Police Station. Kuang Tianyou speaking.”
“Kuang sir, I’m Lin Bei. Is it convenient to meet?”
Despite living nearly a century, Kuang Tianyou was momentarily stunned upon hearing Lin Bei’s name.
With an uncertain tone, he asked, “Mr. Lin from the Pan-Asia Group?”
Lin Bei smiled. “That’s right. I need your help with something. Once it’s done, I’ll provide you with all the food you need.”
Kuang Tianyou frowned deeply. Lin Bei’s words implicitly revealed that his identity had already been exposed.
He had always acted covertly, changing identities every so often and living somewhere where no one knew him.
He had managed like this for nearly sixty years—so why was he suddenly uncovered?
“Address?”
“Come to my villa at Repulse Bay. You should know where it is.”
Indeed, the residences of Hong Kong’s wealthy were public knowledge. But knowing where they are and being able to enter are two different matters.
After hanging up, Kuang Tianyou turned to a dark-skinned youth and said, “Gao Bao, I’m heading out for a bit.”
Gao Bao looked up, about to ask if he wanted company, but Kuang Tianyou had already vanished.
As a zombie known for his speed, Kuang Tianyou rarely took taxis, relying entirely on his own legs.
At this time, surveillance wasn’t widespread, so there was no worry about being caught on camera.
Before long, he arrived at Lin Bei’s villa.
As a second-generation zombie with Pangu bloodline, Kuang Tianyou’s long lack of fresh blood had left him malnourished, his strength even inferior to the fourth-generation zombies created by Kazuo Yamamoto.
But he still retained some basic abilities—for instance, the Yin-Yang Eye.
Through this power, Kuang Tianyou sensed a dense aura of resentment hovering over Lin Bei’s villa.
This resentment gave him a faint sense of kinship, yet it was also somewhat different.
With this doubt lingering, Kuang Tianyou stepped inside.
Lin Bei had prepared early. After Kuang Tianyou entered, he pushed a wooden box containing two bottles of red wine toward him.
“Kuang sir, this is a gift for you. Please accept it with a smile.”
Kuang Tianyou glanced at the wine, expressionless. “Since you know my identity, you should understand that beings like us can’t digest these kinds of things.”
Lin Bei smiled, picked up a bottle, opened it in front of Kuang Tianyou, and poured some into a tall glass on the table.
The dark red liquid looked bloody, yet held a fatal allure for Kuang Tianyou.
The moment Lin Bei opened the bottle, Kuang Tianyou knew it wasn’t wine at all, but fresh blood.
His expression darkened as he stared at Lin Bei. “Did you kill someone?”
Lin Bei chuckled lightly. “With my status and wealth, I don’t need to kill to get blood. Don’t worry, I bought this legally and with full consent.”
Kuang Tianyou finally realized that his own poverty-blinded perspective was flawed. Having lived so many years with little money, he had been trying to guess Lin Bei’s motives with a poor man’s mindset.
There were many poor souls like him in this world. If selling blood could bring money, surely many would be willing.
Reassured by Lin Bei’s words, Kuang Tianyou lifted the glass and drank deeply of the fresh blood—something he had never tasted before.
The heavens had mercy; since his transformation into a zombie, he had never bitten anyone.
During wartime, he collected blood from corpses on battlefields. In peacetime, he had to steal expired blood from hospitals.
He couldn’t take fresh blood without jeopardizing patients.
Though drinking extracted blood was far less effective than biting directly, for Kuang Tianyou, who had been starving for nearly sixty years, it was the ultimate indulgence.