Courtyard House: I fish in the heavens, a professional bird abuser.

Chapter 269 Execution and Warning

The sky was just beginning to lighten.

The fog in the valley was very thick. The white vapor rising from the river was like a layer of damp gauze, covering the campsite completely.

The campfire had burned out, leaving only a pile of dark red ash, from which a few wisps of smoke occasionally rose when the wind blew.

He Yuanchao stood at the edge of the camp, looking at the eastern horizon that was tinged with pale gold by the morning light.

There was no particular expression on his face.

It wasn't cold-hearted, nor was it smug.

It's just a calm feeling of "things that need to be done have to be done".

Footsteps sounded behind me.

It's Gil.

She walked to his side and also looked at the eastern sky. They remained silent for a few seconds.

"Are you really going to do this?"

"You raised your hand too." He Yuanchao didn't turn around.

Jill's lips twitched slightly.

"I raised my hand because of those videos. That beast signed off on experiments on living people and ordered the shooting of fleeing civilians. He deserved to die."

"but--"

"But do you think he should be given a more 'civilized' way to die?" He Yuanchao finally turned to look at her.

Jill did not answer.

He Yuanchao picked up a tree branch from the ground, weighed it in his hand a couple of times, and then broke it.

"Civilization? Jill, look around you."

He pointed around with the broken branch.

Tents, shacks, barbed wire fences, haphazardly scattered helicopter wreckage, and the dark shadows of trees faintly visible in the morning mist in the distance.

"This world has lost its civilization. Courts are gone, prisons are gone, and the UN Security Council just dropped a nuclear bomb on a city. Who do you think has the right to talk about 'civilized trial procedures'?"

"The trial I gave him was the best he could get. Thirty votes in favor, unanimously. In the old world, that was called public opinion."

Jill remained silent for a long time.

Then she sighed.

"You're right. But..."

"Just what?"

"When I was a police officer, I always felt that justice followed a procedure. First, arrest someone, then prosecute them, then go to court, and finally deliver a verdict. Every step had its own rules to follow."

"And now?"

Jill looked at the gun in her hand as if she were looking at an old friend who had changed.

"Now I realize that justice has nothing to do with procedure. It's all about the outcome."

He Yuanchao nodded.

He threw away the twig fragment in his hand and turned to walk towards the center of the camp.

Kane is still tied to that pine tree.

After a whole night of commotion, the former Umbrella Corporation major was completely unrecognizable. His dark blue suit was wrinkled and covered in mud and resin. His shirt collar was soaked with sweat and blood, turning a filthy dark color.

His face was ashen, like a steamed bun that had been sitting out for three days. His lips were cracked, his eyes were sunken, and his once sharp and intelligent light gray eyes were now cloudy and empty.

He Yuanchao walked up to him.

Kane looked up at him.

The malice and arrogance of the previous night were gone from his gaze, replaced by something extremely complex. There was fear, resentment, and even a hint of—if I wasn't mistaken—relief.

"You've come." Kane's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper grinding against sheet metal.

"I am coming."

"When?"

"Now."

He Yuanchao squatted down and used his hunting knife to cut the bandages binding Kane's ankles.

Kane's hands were still tied to the tree trunk behind him, but his feet were free.

He tried to stand up.

My legs had been numb for most of the night, and when I stood up, my knees were bent, and I almost fell over.

He Yuanchao reached out and helped him up.

This action surprised Kane.

"You're still helping me up?"

"I'm not helping you up. I'm just making sure you can stand firmly so you won't fall when you walk."

He Yuanchao untied another binding strap that was tied to the tree.

Kane's hands were released.

He subconsciously rubbed his purple wrist, the stinging pain of blood flowing back to his fingertips making him grit his teeth.

"Let's go." He Yuanchao pointed outside the camp in a direction shrouded in mist.

"Where to?"

"go out."

Kane's body stiffened.

He knew what "going out" meant.

Outside the camp was wilderness. And in the wilderness were zombies.

This is not an execution.

This is exile.

Exile is more cruel than a bullet.

Because he won't die immediately. He'll wander the wilderness, hungry, dehydrated, and terrified, until some zombie smells his scent, and then—

He Yuanchao did not provide an explanation.

He just stood there and waited.

Kane's lips trembled slightly.

That struggle—wanting to beg for mercy but knowing it was useless—lasted on his face for about three seconds.

Then he closed his eyes.

I took a deep breath.

Open your eyes.

"I won't beg you," Kane's voice regained a little firmness, "but I have something to tell you."

"explain."

"Umbrella won't disappear with the destruction of Raccoon City. They still have at least seven underground bases around the world on par with Hive. Tokyo, Paris, Cape Town, Moscow—"

"I know," He Yuanchao interrupted him.

Kane paused for a moment.

"The Red Queen's database contains a complete global layout map. Did you think I emptied the Hive just for a few vials of viral stock?"

He Yuanchao's lips curled slightly.

That smile sent a chill down Kane's spine.

He suddenly realized that this man was far more terrifying than he had imagined.

It's not about being terrifying in terms of force.

It's about the overall picture.

Kane thought He Yuanchao was just a lucky guy struggling to survive in the apocalypse.

But he was wrong.

This person was never trying to survive in the first place.

He was making plans.

"Let's go," He Yuanchao said again.

This time, his tone was neither urging nor sarcastic.

It's simply a statement of fact—you should go.

Kane was silent for two seconds.

Then he turned around and walked out of the camp.

His steps were initially unsteady, and he slipped on the pebbles several times. But after taking a dozen or so steps, his pace began to steady.

He didn't turn around.

Not even once.

Perhaps it's because pride won't allow it.

Perhaps it was because he knew that turning back would be pointless.

The morning mist swallowed his figure.

First the legs, then the waist, then the shoulders, and finally the still-decent head.

Disappeared.

He Yuanchao stood there for two seconds.

Then he turned around to face the thirty pairs of eyes in the camp that were watching him.

There are people watching the play.

Someone is afraid.

Someone is waiting.

"Starting today." He Yuanchao's voice wasn't loud, but it carried far in the quiet morning.

"There are only three new rules."

"First, no stealing. Anyone who steals will be kicked out of the camp."

"Second, do not kill your own comrades. Anyone who attacks one of your own shall be executed."

"Third, obey orders. This is not the army; you don't need to shout 'Sir!' But when I give an order, you must carry it out. Because every order concerns everyone's lives."

He paused.

"Violation of any of the above three conditions—"

He gestured with his chin in the direction Kane had disappeared.

"You all saw how he ended up."

"Any objections?"

No one spoke.

Even the two high school students who were usually the most talkative kept their mouths shut.

He Yuanchao nodded.

"very good."

"Eat breakfast. Then get to work."

He walked back to his rock, sat down, took out a bag of flattened military rations from his pocket, tore open the seal, and poured a handful into his mouth.

I chewed it twice.

It tastes similar to sawdust.

But he ate with great relish.

Because in the apocalypse, being able to eat is happiness.

Even if it smells like sawdust.

Alice came over and sat down next to him.

She also tore open a packet of rations, but only held it up to look at it and didn't eat it.

"You let him go."

"Um."

"I didn't kill him."

"He will die."

"But not your hand."

He Yuanchao chewed on the unpalatable compressed biscuits and mumbled, "Killing an unarmed person doesn't require much skill. But making an evildoer face the hell they created with fear—that's what retribution is."

Alice looked at him for two seconds.

Then he tore open his rations and started eating.

"You," she said, chewing on a cookie, "seem reasonable on the surface."

"Only on the surface?"

"He's even more ruthless than me at heart."

He Yuanchao did not deny it.

He looked up at the eastern sky.

The sun had already pierced through the morning mist, and golden rays spilled onto the riverbank, making the water surface shimmer.

a new day.

The first morning of the apocalypse.

But for He Yuanchao, this was just—

The first day of construction.

He stood up and patted the cookie crumbs off his hands.

"Everyone who has finished eating, come over here."

"I have work to do today."

Thirty people gradually gathered around.

He Yuanchao drew a simple map on the ground—the layout of the camp, the surrounding terrain, the course of the river, and the approximate location of the nearest town.

"I need three teams."

"First team, come with me to town to scavenge supplies. Four people are enough—those who can shoot."

"Second team, stay at the camp and do the construction. Chop wood, build sheds, dig toilets. Don't worry about the dirt; in the apocalypse, the place to poop is more important than your bedroom."

"The third team is responsible for water and food. The river water must be boiled before drinking; I'll teach you how to make a simple water purifier. Does anyone know how to fish?"

A hand was raised.

It's Old Tom.

"I not only know how to fish, but I also know how to set traps for rabbits." The old hunter spat out the blade of grass in his mouth. "There are plenty of wild animals in these mountains. As long as you don't come across any rotten meat, you can survive for a while."

"Okay. You'll be in charge of the third team."

He Yuanchao pointed at the bald firefighter: "What's your name?"

"Greg." The bald man slung the fire axe over his shoulder.

"Greg, the second team is yours. Take the rest of the men and expand the camp. The key is the fence—that barbed wire is too thin, reinforce it with two more layers. Use a mix of wooden stakes and barbed wire, at least chest-high."

Greg nodded and, without saying a word, started yelling at people to get to work.

He Yuanchao looked at Jill: "You stay at the camp and oversee things. Peyton stays too; he needs to rest."

"Where's Angela?"

"She should stay with you. Don't let her go anywhere."

Jill reached out and pulled Angela to her side. The little girl was much better today; at least she wasn't trembling anymore. While she was washing her face by the river, she even chatted with the baby's mother for a couple of minutes—though her voice was barely audible.

Alice, carrying a shotgun, stood next to He Yuanchao: "Count me in for the looting."

He Yuanchao glanced at her.

"You're not going there. Your task is to patrol a two-kilometer radius around the camp. Your senses are better than anyone else's here—you'll be the first to spot any zombies or anything else that gets close."

Alice frowned slightly.

"You mean you want me to be a sentry?"

"I mean, you should be the last line of defense. In case something happens to the camp while I'm looting supplies—you're the only one who can hold out."

Alice looked into his eyes.

He Yuanchao's gaze was honest, devoid of any sweet talk or manipulation. He spoke the truth—among these survivors, there were very few truly capable fighters. He Yuanchao and Alice were their two strongest cards, and they couldn't bet on the same thing at the same time.

"Alright."

Alice relented, but then added, "Next time it's my turn to go out. I don't like staying in one place for too long."

He Yuanchao smiled.

This woman is just like him—she can't sit still.

"make a deal."

He turned and walked toward the town.

Behind him were three people—former policeman Jack, hunter Old Tom, and a convenience store owner who volunteered to join (he was carrying a shotgun, and although his grip on the gun wasn't quite right, he was very brave).

The four men filed out of the camp's barbed wire gate.

He Yuanchao looked back one last time.

A camp for thirty people.

A few tents, a few shacks, and a crooked barbed wire fence.

The river water sparkled in the sunlight.

Several birds were circling on the distant mountain ridge.

It is a bit ugly.

But this is their home.

He Yuanchao turned his head and strode out of the valley.

The pebbles underfoot creaked.

The wind blew in from the other side of the mountain, carrying the scent of pine needles and earth.

This time, it's not about running for one's life.