Transmigrating into a Wasteland Cannon Fodder Slag A [GL Yuri] - Chapter 3

The smile at the corner of Yan An’s mouth turned into a cold sneer. Before she knew it, she had a fruit knife in her hand.

When the burly man swung at her, she sliced across his arm.

She tapped the nearby rolling chair with her foot, hopped onto it, and pushed off—spiraling to the side just in time.

The man’s fist landed on empty air; he nearly stumbled. Bl00d poured from the cut her knife had opened on his hand.

So this was Rapid Adaptation.

Yan An treated the burly man like a wild boar charging her with no mercy, no hesitation. Seeing the bl00d on his hand, she kicked the chair forward and slammed into him, using the momentum to deliver a boot that sent him tumbling out of the room.

“This is my place. You can’t barge in…” Her voice faltered, then hardened into something sharp. “Consider this an intrusion.”

****

Years ago, when her parents left behind a fortune, everyone had tried to get a slice. A teenager who could guard that wealth wasn’t someone to be trifled with. Repeated stints of wilderness survival had taught her to handle snakes and insects, wild boars and scouting wolves. She had endured endless loneliness and darkness.

So a musclebound thug, bare-fisted, trying to kill her? Ridiculous.

“You bastard! I’ll kill you! Then I’ll play with your woman; I’ll make you wish you were dead!” the man roared, rushing back in a frenzy.

Yan An rose and kicked him again. He flew from the doorway.

“Second time,” she said colder than before.

If he tried to come in a third time, she wouldn’t hold back.

Clarity hit the burly man like cold water. He suddenly understood he couldn’t beat her.

Wait—when had this useless girl become so terrifying? Was she faking it?

“Yan An, don’t get cocky. If the boss finds out you’ve been hiding your strength, he won’t let you off,” he taunted from the corridor.

Right! Yan An realized. She hadn’t actually planned to take on Chen Hao yet; she needed to keep her power hidden. If the boss learned she could fight, they’d be on guard. The element of surprise was her ally.

She let out a short, mirthless chuckle. “You came to kill me?”

The man blinked.

********

In the next instant she charged; he spun to run but a boot to the back of his skull knocked him out cold.

Yan An collapsed to the floor. This body was clumsy—far less nimble than she remembered.

“What a lousy body,” she muttered.

Then she looked at Gu Xia, who had been watching the whole thing.

It wasn’t mere watching. Gu Xia was stunned. When had Yan An become like this?

Yan An wasn’t secretly formidable; this body lacked flexibility. Without the chair for leverage, she might not have bruised the man so easily. “Lousy” referred to the body’s coordination, not its raw fitness. Even with a cured score of a hundred, a body untrained had no muscle memory—everything had to be relearned. It was like getting a new phone: settings needed to be redone before it performed smoothly.

She bent down and dragged the unconscious man back into the room.

“You not helping?” she glanced at Gu Xia.

“You…” Gu Xia faltered.

Yan An had changed overnight into someone else; Gu Xia couldn’t read her intentions.

“You what?” Yan An asked, then shoved the man inside and shut the door, dragging a table to block it. No more doors getting kicked open.

Gu Xia’s head buzzed. Today’s Yan An gave off a new, reliable aura—worrying, because she couldn’t afford to be fooled by appearances again. Clean, bright, scholastic—these were only the surface. Crisis revealed the selfishness, the darkness, the ruthlessness in her bones. Still, there was no time to brood.

“Do you plan to kill him?” Gu Xia asked. If Chen Hao found out, both of them would die.

Yan An had been checking the man’s breathing and nose without looking at Gu Xia’s expression. “How do you want to handle him?”

She already had an idea. Seeing Gu Xia’s guard, she felt a wicked little thrill.

Gu Xia, colder than Yan An imagined, replied, “No one can know he came here and he must never see Chen Hao again.”

Not a bad plan.

“So you mean—kill him?” Yan An’s lips curved like a smile.

Her bright eyes lifted at the corners, lending her an oddly girlish look. It was hard to picture such a clean-faced girl delivering such ruthless blows.

Gu Xia tried to count how many times Yan An had shoved her forward to take hits—using her as a shield to buy time to escape. Back then, zombies were slower and fewer; that was their only reason for surviving.

At Yan An’s question, Gu Xia’s first thought was that Yan An was trying to pin the blame on her. Why had she revealed the conspiracy with Chen Hao? Covert action was always more effective.

Then she reconsidered. If Yan An dared say it out loud, she must have confidence. After that swift takedown of a big man and with Chen Hao’s awakened power, there was no way they could overpower him directly. Gu Xia’s stomach felt cold.

Yan An spoke again. “Gu Xia! If you’re to kill him, you do it.”

Her sudden command jolted Gu Xia. She stared at the man on the floor, teeth clenched. “Throw him outside. Let the zombies finish him.”

“And what if the zombies don’t kill him?” Yan An’s voice was unnervingly calm, as if she had already guessed Gu Xia’s choice.

“Then we wait till they do, and toss him out when they arrive.”

Gu Xia’s words were brutal, and they surprised Yan An for a beat.

Yet it was the right decision.

 In the apocalypse, zombies roamed and order had collapsed—strength ruled. Kindness belonged to the dead. Yan An had signed countless life-and-death pacts; you didn’t pet rabbits on the trail to survival.

She smiled. “So ruthless?”

“Murderers get murdered,” Gu Xia said flatly.

When the burly man had struck, he intended to beat her to death and his gaze on Gu Xia had been filthy; the image of what he might do to her if she fell into his hands was chilling. The apocalypse was merciless to Omegas and female Betas alike. Even handsome Alphas and Betas could meet grim ends. Others in the factory—other Omegas and female Betas made this clear: when the burly man made his move, his fate should have been obvious.

The smile on Yan An’s face widened. Here in the compound, she needed a partner.

Gu Xia was her only choice.

The heroine represented fate itself. Someone who would later awaken an ability.

Most importantly, once Gu Xia’s ability awakened, she would kill Yan An.

Only by making Gu Xia a partner and getting her out of the compound alive could Yan An avoid being murdered later.

Everything could be planned once they were outside.

People who grew up on twenty-first-century dramas learned one thing early: protagonists were often saints. Yan An had no desire to meet a saintly lead.

After all, the heroine who had let her predecessor be dragged off and eaten by zombies probably wasn’t going to be a saint.

Gu Xia felt Yan An’s gaze was strange. She couldn’t put her finger on why, so she swallowed the urge to question and dug a length of nylon cord from the cabinet.

“So thin?” Yan An remembered a similar string used to bundle scrap paper after the college entrance exam—easy to snap.

“Wrap it a few more times.” Gu Xia shoved the cord into her arms, motioning for her to do it.

“Aren’t you afraid of me now?”

Yan An cocked her head. When they’d first met this woman had been guarded to the point of hostility.

Gu Xia paused and gave a forced little cough. “We’re a couple. Why would I be afraid of you?”

She was still on her guard, but something unspoken had shifted between them. The shared secrets made Yan An a more logical person to lean on than anyone else.

Lean on, not trust. Not close.

Yan An lowered her eyes; the smile didn’t reach them. The woman played her part well.

She took the rope and bound the burly man’s ankles and legs tightly.

Gu Xia then handed her the tape. Yan An raised an eyebrow, re-binding him and sealing a gag over his mouth.

“Throw him out?” Yan An dragged him toward the window and peered down.

Her motion was dangerously exposed. One shove on her legs and she could be pushed out the opening.

A gleam lit Gu Xia’s eyes as she stepped closer. Her hand crept forward.

“If I die, how long do you think you’ll live?” Yan An asked without looking back. Her voice was even, flat—no tremor, nothing.

Live how long? Not long, Gu Xia thought. It wasn’t her Omega status they feared. It was Yan An as an Alpha.

Until they understood Yan An’s true strength, no one would dare force Gu Xia. Once they learned Yan An was weak, they would act.

Under Chen Hao’s pressure earlier, it had been revealed: Yan An was supposedly useless. That’s why harassment kept coming—first the beating of Xiao Qiang, then this burly man.

But after seeing Yan An beat down Xiao Qiang and subdue the bigger man, Gu Xia realized surviving here meant playing along with her.

Yan An had simply been telling her: cooperate, or you won’t make it.

“I don’t know,” Gu Xia withdrew her hand, watching the zombies beyond the window. Something felt wrong.

“Don’t you feel the zombies outside are getting more numerous? More frenzied?”

Of course she noticed. Soon the horde would break through the factory gates and tragedy would unfold.

In the original story, the predecessor would shove Gu Xia into the swarm to force her awakening and the plot would finally kick off.

“Well, since there are already so many down there, we don’t have to wait.”

Yan An began to lift the burly man, but Gu Xia suddenly blocked her. “Don’t.”

“What?”

“There are cameras.”

“Hm?” Yan An tilted her head, watching Gu Xia with a growing curiosity.

This woman knew about the surveillance and still expected Yan An to toss him out? Trying to stab someone with a borrowed blade, was she?

Gu Xia’s look said so plainly: she wanted to use the cameras as leverage, to manipulate the scene without getting bl00d on her hands.