I Am the Protagonist 08

Fang Zhiyi stood atop the roof at the far end of the assembly area.

Lu Jingxiao glared at him with deadly intensity. "You actually stayed?"

Fang Zhiyi shrugged. "Why would I leave?"

"You—you incited rebellion, stole everything from the base, and thought you could just run away?"

Fang Zhiyi sighed in exasperation. "Are you insane? If I wanted to run, would I be here waiting for you?"

Qin Weiwei shrieked from below, "Fang Zhiyi! Get down here! You ruined my damn banquet!"

Fang Zhiyi didn’t even bother glancing her way.

"Don’t think your spatial ability makes you invincible," Lu Jingxiao spat, each word laced with fury. He had watched half his life’s work crumble before his eyes today. "When you die, everything in your space will spill out, won’t it?"

Fang Zhiyi nodded. "Correct!"

The crowd froze, stunned by his immediate admission.

"Then die!" A bolt of lightning shot toward Fang Zhiyi. Gasps erupted, but the attack vanished without a trace the moment it neared him, as if swallowed by another dimension.

"So, as I was saying—in a way, I’m untouchable." Fang Zhiyi smiled amiably.

"You can absorb attacks with your space?!" Lu Jingxiao was aghast.

Fang Zhiyi waved a dismissive hand. "That’s not the point. What matters is I need to give you all a warning." His gaze swept over the crowd below. "All of you."

In the next instant, a grotesque figure materialized before him—a eyeless, spindly-limbed zombie with clawed fingers, its limbs resembling spider legs.

"A Tier 3 zombie!" someone gasped.

The creature let out a guttural screech before disappearing. Then another took its place—a skinless, muscle-exposed brute, a strength-type Tier 3 zombie. Before it could move, Fang Zhiyi recalled it into his space.

"As you can see, I’ve lost count of how many of these I’ve got stored away. And as your dear leader just pointed out, if I die, everything in my space spills out like loot drops... So, care to guess how many zombies I’ve got in there?"

"You’re insane! Storing zombies in your space?!" someone yelled.

Fang Zhiyi grinned. "Thanks for the compliment."

"You—" Lu Jingxiao trembled, struggling to reconcile this ruthless figure with the meek tool he once knew.

Fang Zhiyi continued, "Rough estimate? My zombies could carpet this entire base. So if I die—or if I simply decide I’ve had enough—everyone here joins me. Call it the ‘Shared Fate’ technique."

The crowd stared at him, horrified.

"From today onward, I’m in charge. Any objections?"

Silence.

Fang Zhiyi sighed. "Everything within a hundred miles has been scavenged. Now, the base’s food supply is under my control. Your lives, your meals—they’re mine to command. Understood?"

Cheers erupted from the surviving ordinary folk, who felt they’d won. The ability users exchanged uneasy glances, while Lu Jingxiao stood pale and speechless. Qin Xue gripped his hand.

The Lingxiao Base resumed operations, though the atmosphere was heavy. Fang Zhiyi restructured the workforce into groups with assigned leaders, decreeing that if anyone fled, their entire group would be punished—leaders included. The penalty was simple: no food.

With the base’s entire food supply in his spatial storage, Fang Zhiyi was, in essence, the ultimate landlord.

Li Si, nervous and hunched, took on the role of managing the base under Fang Zhiyi’s direction. "Straighten up, Fourth Brother," Fang Zhiyi chuckled. "Confidence is key."

Li Si forced a bitter smile. "Confidence? You flipped the entire power structure in a day. And how am I supposed to boss around combat-class ability users?"

Fang Zhiyi shook his head. "Relax. Even the strongest ability users need to eat. No food, no powers—just useless flesh."

True to his word, Fang Zhiyi implemented a performance-based ration system. At first, the ability users resisted, but hunger soon broke their defiance. Some caved immediately, taking on labor. Fang Zhiyi promoted proactive civilians to managerial roles, entrusting them with ration distribution.

These new enforcers, long resentful of ability users, skimmed portions from their meals. When some ability users raged, a single glance at Fang Zhiyi nearby snuffed their fury.

Within three days, the new order was clear: work meant survival. For civilians, little had changed. But ability users, though humiliated, complied—starving meant losing their edge, reducing them to ordinary men.

A faction led by Wang Wei plotted to assassinate Fang Zhiyi, but their scheme was swiftly reported.

Fang Zhiyi smiled at the snitch, a fidgeting man. "Commendable. You’ve served the base well."

The reward—a pack of cigarettes, a bottle of liquor, cured meat, and two tins of biscuits—sent the informant away in effusive gratitude.

Li Si gaped.

"Where there’s a crowd, there’s division. Some choose rebellion; others, surrender. In the apocalypse, survival’s the only creed," Fang Zhiyi mused, rising to his feet.

"Everyone, halt!" he called. Work across the base ceased.

From his room, Lu Jingxiao watched through the window, still scheming fruitlessly. Fang Zhiyi seemed content to ignore him.

"I’ve received a report—an assassination plot against me."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"The informant has been rewarded." Fang Zhiyi paused, then suddenly pointed at Wang Wei. "Cripple him, and the prize is a crate of beer, a crate of canned food, and a carton of cigarettes."

Dead silence.

Wang Wei smirked. "Fang Zhiyi, you really think you’re untouchable?"

Fang Zhiyi mirrored his expression. "Limited slots. One attacker takes all. Two? Split it. Three? Thirds. And so on—"

"Damn it!" Lu Jingxiao’s pupils constricted.

A blow shattered Wang Wei’s knee. As he spun, a shovel smashed into his face. The assailants—two ability users—stared down at him with hungry eyes.

"You—"

"Brothers just want full bellies. Even ability users are human."