Lin Feng looked at the parkour runners leaning against the vehicles, agile and loose-limbed, and his eyes lit up with a single thought: take them all.

Same truth as always, these runners, handpicked and vetted by Volatiles, would be a core squad in any camp on earth.

Once Abraham and Orion put them through a proper training cycle, the possibilities were almost too good to think about...

Jade took two gulps of water and looked at the Asian standing nearby, who hadn't stopped sizing up the group. "When do we move out?"

Lin Feng pulled his thoughts together and glanced out at the highway. "No rush. My people aren't back yet."

"Not back yet?"

"Yeah. Worried you might have tails. My camp doesn't want to take on any risk that doesn't have to exist. Can't afford to."

Jade's fingers pressed the plastic bottle twice. This guy actually seemed like a responsible camp leader. A bit like Brecken...

"Right." Jade stepped away, walked over to Rahim, and said something low.

Rahim climbed back onto the pickup, pulled out several portions of food and water, and carried them over to the second SUV.

Lin Feng sat on the steps and watched it all without expression, thinking of two people: Tolga and Fatin.

Two research geniuses with sky-high IQs and negative EQ.

Not bad people, deep down. But the way they talked was infuriating, the specific kind of infuriating where you couldn't even argue back.

Lin Feng personally didn't mind. But that didn't mean Merle, Abraham, and Shane wouldn't. When those short-fused veterans snapped, they didn't just swing, they went straight to killing.

So those two were going to need their own separate housing arrangement.

Which brought up another thing: the camp's living conditions needed an overhaul. Everyone had to be out of tents before winter hit.

Otherwise people would freeze.

Lin Feng propped his chin on his hand, thoughts drifting.

A short distance away, Leon and Claire were quietly watching him.

"That guy looks strange. Feels like he's hiding something."

Claire furrowed a brow. "Sort of like the people around my brother. But without that gunpowder-and-smoke edge."

"So what do we do? Leave or stay?"

"Let's wait and see."

Lin Feng listened to every word without so much as glancing over, the corner of his mouth curling slightly upward.

Come on then. Once you're here, don't even think about leaving.

Neither of them was lacking in the combat department, Leon especially. The nickname "Bristleback" wasn't handed out for nothing. Combat quality, combat instincts, both top-tier.

Not fully grown into it yet, but that just meant Lin Feng had room to accelerate the process.

Crane, Abraham, Orion, all three of them working on Leon at once. One month, crash course. Done.

Besides, that guy was built to take punishment. You couldn't break him if you tried.

Marcus dropped down from the truck bed and wiped sweat mixed with blood from his face. "Lin, the conditions in that truck are terrible. Stifling, almost no ventilation. They need to get back to camp as soon as possible. Leave it any longer and secondary infections start setting in — lasting damage."

Lin Feng nodded. "Got it. I'll call Daryl and Merle back. Let's head home."

He unclipped the walkie-talkie, switched it on, and tapped it twice. Two seconds later, Merle's voice came through.

"What's up? Something happen?"

"Nothing. How's it looking on your end? We've got wounded, need to move."

"Oh. Fine." Merle sounded disappointed.

Lin Feng switched off the radio and clipped it back to his belt.

No finds, apparently. Or more to the point — no tails.

Good. That meant no sweep organized for tomorrow. Just the harvest.

He stood and turned to Jade. "Get everyone loaded up. We're heading back."

Jade nodded, turned to face the runners, and didn't waste a syllable. "Mount up."

Lin Feng watched as every single one of them snapped into motion like they had springs in their legs, back to their positions, fast and orderly, the moment the word left Jade's mouth.

There was a flicker of pride in Jade's eyes. The unspoken question was obvious: Well? How are my people?

Lin Feng gave a thumbs-up. Genuinely impressive. Too bad they were all about to take his last name.

Merle and Daryl came walking out from the street. Neither looked happy.

"Any tracks?"

Merle shook his head. "Forget it. Empty road. Two stray walkers, nothing else."

"All right. I'll drive. Let's go home."

Merle's eyes lit up at that. Scrambled into the passenger seat, dug out a bottle, twisted the cap off, and started pouring it down his throat.

Lin Feng shot a flat look over. Other camps had disciplined, battle-hardened crews. His own felt like a problem-child daycare.

He let it go. Turned the key, put his foot down, and pulled out through the back of the police station.

The drive back was quiet. No trouble.

When the convoy reached camp, Lin Feng turned to Jade. "Everyone's in tents right now. You'll need to pitch your own. For materials, find Rick — he'll sort it out."

"Rick?"

Rick wasn't wearing the hat this time, which meant Lin Feng couldn't describe the look in advance. Didn't matter. As always, the moment Lin Feng returned, Rick had already started walking over.

"Right there. Internal camp affairs, go to Rick. External affairs, go to Shane." Lin Feng laid out the division of authority in a handful of words, easy and natural.

That had always been the plan. Rick needed no explanation. And Shane's temperament made the obvious choice for anything facing outward, sharp, ruthless, fiercely protective of the people under them. The occasional streak of stubbornness aside, practically ideal.

Rick and Shane glanced at each other as they approached. The look lasted about a second before both looked away.

They'd barely spoken in days, sometimes not a word exchanged for two days running. But the deep freeze from before was gone too. What sat between them now was something harder to name. The rough shape of it was: I don't give a damn about them. But you touch them, I kill you first.

Jade watched the two coming up behind Lin Feng and made quick assessments. The blue-eyed one had to be Rick. The buzz-cut one was Shane.

No mystery there, Shane currently looked no different from a Goon. One glance said everything about what role Shane played.

With Crane still out and Brecken gone, Jade had no one to hand this off to. Stepped forward and greeted them both.

Rick returned it with a small smile. "Welcome. Lin's been worried about all of you. Had someone sitting by the radio around the clock waiting for word."

Rick worked the room with a light touch. Shane was more direct about it, gave a short grunt, then added almost as an afterthought: "Hope your people's abilities match how much Lin values them."

Jade had enough of a read on both now. Gave a grunt back. "They won't disappoint."

Rick called Glenn and a few others over to pull a batch of tents out of the barn, and the runners got to work setting up camp.

Shane stood with arms crossed, watching the runners move, and gave a small nod.

"Not bad. At least they don't look completely green."

Lin Feng smiled. "Shane, trust me. Once summer harvest wraps up, take them into town. You'll understand exactly why I wanted them here."

Shane didn't weigh in, but nodded. "If they cause any problems though..."

"You handle it. I trust you."

Lin Feng said it and let his gaze drift, out past the activity, toward The Tower's group further off.

As everyone finally came into view, he found Sherry. Found Crane, unconscious, and another runner badly injured beside them. Found Tolga and Fatin already critiquing the camp out loud with that particular brand of bluntness.

But no Brecken.

The last thin thread of hope he'd been holding onto went slack. Lin Feng exhaled quietly, and said nothing.

➤ Next: Only After Leaving Harran Did They Realize

Chapter 94 - Only After Leaving Harran Did They Realize

The next morning, the sun climbed slowly over the distant mountains and spilled a wash of golden light across the land.

The runners slept soundly for the first time in what felt like forever. No Volatiles to watch for. None of those piercing, overlapping shrieks tearing through the dark. It was, for all practical purposes, heaven.

After breakfast, the summer harvest began.

With the runners folded into the operation, the camp's chronic manpower shortage eased considerably. Lin Feng shifted into full multitasking mode, breaking everyone into three teams — one under himself, one under Shane, one under Rick.

Seven people per team, each a blend of the camp's high-combat regulars and the new runners. Each team was further divided into three roles: harvesting, transport, and patrol. The split was 1-3-3.

Now that he actually had people to work with, Lin Feng was happy to lean heavier on the security side. Combine harvesters were loud. Anything in earshot would know exactly where they were.

The camp itself was left with a smaller stay-behind force. Abraham took charge of that group, holding down the defensive perimeter in case anything went sideways.

Hershel Greene, looking mildly pained about the whole thing, took a crew back over to the threshing ground to lay down more plastic tarps and expand the drying area. The original plan had only called for two teams, not three, so nobody had counted on this kind of output. The space they'd prepared simply wasn't going to be enough.

Then there was the mechanic crew under Andrew, no active calls, they pulled camp defense duty alongside everyone else; something breaks down in the field, they roll out and fix it.

Under Lin Feng's direction, the R&D trio, Eugene, Tolga, and Fatin, set to work on bullet production.

Whether they'd pull it off wasn't really a question. In the original timeline, Eugene had managed 9mm rounds solo. Now there were two more scientific minds in that workshop who weren't the slightest bit behind Eugene. The outcome spoke for itself.

Once they cracked 5.56, Lin Feng would be right back in business.

Whatever. Take your complaints to my inventors.

[Tolga / Fatin: Since when do monkeys get a vote?]

So the summer harvest kicked off, tense in logistics, short on drama. Everyone fanned out across Hershel's Farm and the surrounding properties in the order they'd agreed on, and started cutting wheat.

The rule was simple: if it was growing in a field, it was theirs. Harvest it. Done.

---

An unnamed farm, somewhere out in the fields.

Otis was behind the wheel of the combine harvester, the machine grinding and chugging through the rows of grain, its racket carrying out across the open land. Walkers in the distance had already started drifting toward the sound.

Maggie watched Lin Feng standing with a recurve bow in hand and fell into brief thought. No matter how many times Maggie had seen it, the fact that this guy drew and loosed without ever seeming to aim still defied explanation.

Lin Feng cleared the last of the scattered walkers, walked forward, pulled the arrows free, wiped them down on the bodies, and slid them back into the quiver.

"What's wrong? Something on your mind?"

A shadow passed through Maggie's eyes. "You seem pretty familiar with that Jade," Maggie said, keeping the tone casual.

Lin Feng paused, then shook his head. "Yesterday was the first time we met."

Maggie nodded. "I get the feeling Jade isn't exactly ordinary."

"Your instincts are good. In close-quarters combat, Jade would rank top five in this camp — maybe top three. If you're interested, you could ask Jade to show you some things sometime. No guarantees Jade says yes, though."

The shadow in Maggie's eyes shifted to surprise. The corner of Maggie's mouth tugged upward before Maggie could stop it. That capable? Then it was absolutely worth learning. Otherwise,

"If Jade has time, I'll ask."

Lin Feng nodded without surprise, his gaze already drifting back to a handful of walkers stumbling in from the distance. He raised the bow and started to draw,

"Hold on. Let me try."

He glanced over. One of the runners stood there, machete in hand, brow furrowed at the approaching dead.

Lin Feng lowered the bow. "Go ahead."

The runner had been quietly questioning reality since the first walker had shuffled into view.

They were so slow. They moved like retirees taking a Sunday stroll through a market.

Weren't all zombies supposed to run? Climb? Jump?

The runner walked toward them at an easy pace. The walkers didn't react. Didn't accelerate. Just kept shuffling forward at that same lazy, tottering crawl.

The machete came up. Still nothing from the other side.

Two walkers went down. The rest were still just walking.

The last one fell with half its skull split open.

The runner stood there and stared at the bodies, feeling absolutely nothing. No tension. No adrenaline. Not even a flicker of satisfaction.

This is it? This is really all they are? Then what, exactly, had all that running and leaping and near-death scrambling through Harran been for?

"Lin, what's wrong with him?" Maggie asked quietly, watching the runner's thoroughly unimpressed expression.

"Probably feels like it was too easy," Lin Feng said. "No sense of accomplishment."

Maggie: "?"

"Remember the Volatile that broke into our camp? The one with the purplish-black skin."

"Where these people come from — those things were everywhere?"

"..."

Maggie's breathing went heavier. The look on Maggie's face was the same one people got when they'd just heard something they couldn't quite make fit in their head.

Lin Feng shrugged and left it at that.

➤ Next: Summer Harvest Routine