Qingran nodded slightly and walked a slow circle around the men, measuring them.
One was tall and wiry, his knuckles bruised and calloused — a fighter from what she could see.
The second was a bit older, broad-shouldered, a faded construction vest still hanging on him.
The third had quick, darting eyes and a tight grip on the metal rod he carried — alert, but maybe a little too nervous.
She stopped in front of them. "Names."
They answered quickly, voices rough from thirst and tension. "Luo Feng." "Chen Shi." "Yu Song."
"Good," Qingran said. "You're going to help quarantine the newcomers and secure the floor."
The three exchanged glances but said nothing.
Qingran continued, her voice clipped and efficient. "First, you check every survivor for bite marks or open wounds. If they resist, you report immediately. No exceptions."
Luo Feng stiffened slightly but nodded. "What if they lie?"
