Fifth floor.
The man struggled hard, but the rope was tied extremely tightly. No matter how much he thrashed, it was useless.
"Damn it! Where the hell did this lunatic come from? Can't even take care of himself, you filthy stray dog!"
He bit the rope with his teeth, cold sweat pouring down his forehead. He had no idea what would happen to him next, but he hoped he could escape before the guy returned.
Footsteps echoed.
He looked up. The lunatic had returned.
"I don't even know you! What the hell do you want from me?" The man was fuming, wishing he could hack this psycho to death with a blade.
This guy was insane—seriously insane.
"What do I want? Nothing really. Just that for the things you've done, there's always a price to pay. You should know that better than anyone," Lam Pham said calmly. He carried the woman back to her room—his room, where she'd be safest.
"What's the big deal? Just because I saw a pretty girl and wanted to play with her, now I'm the criminal? Fine, let's say I broke the law—what the hell can you do about it? You're locking me up, hoping to torture me with your holier-than-thou attitude?"
"You're just jealous. Jealous of me."
The man shouted, certain that the guy in front of him was completely unhinged.
"I'm taking you to the police station," Lam Pham said as he grabbed the rope and started dragging him downstairs.
The man panicked and cursed, "Are you fucking nuts? Did I kill your family or something? What the hell does any of this have to do with you?!"
"Let me go, you dog! I swear, if I ever get the chance, I'll kill you!"
Lam Pham ignored the insults. He wasn't here to punish him out of hatred—just doing what he could, within reason.
Dragging him along, they quickly reached the ground floor.
The empty, eerie atmosphere was unsettling.
A chill ran through the man's heart. The outside was dangerous. At any moment, a zombie could appear.
"I'm warning you, let me go," the man said with a threatening tone.
Lam Pham didn't respond. He simply dragged the man along, heading toward the police station.
The streets were deathly quiet. The man grew anxious and stopped yelling, muttering warnings under his breath instead.
But then he noticed something odd—the lunatic didn't seem worried at all. In fact, he was calm. Very calm.
"What the fuck… which mental hospital left its doors open and let this guy loose?" the man cursed silently. "Psychos like him are a damn menace to society."
He saw numerous mutilated corpses, flies swarming around them. The deeper they went, the colder he felt inside.
Zombies…
Just thinking about those monsters made him shiver.
The police station had to be deserted.
If this lunatic actually dragged him there, he'd be walking to his death.
Resolving himself, the man lowered his voice, sounding like someone ready to go down swinging. "I'm warning you—let me go now, or we'll die together."
"If I've caught you, I'm not letting go," Lam Pham replied without fear.
"You're not afraid to die?" the man asked.
"Of course I am. Everyone's afraid of death. But sometimes, letting someone like you go just because I'm afraid… would lead to more tragedy. In that case, death isn't all that scary."
The man was stunned. "Why do you insist on arresting me? Just live for yourself. Mind your own damn business."
"Do you even know how to 'be yourself'?" Lam Pham asked.
"???"
"People have two sides within them—a dark side and a light side. Do you know which one you're following? If you give in to the darkness, you're not being 'yourself.' Being yourself means choosing to pursue the light, to resist the darkness inside you. That's what being yourself means," Lam Pham explained calmly. "So when I saw what you did, I had to stop you."
"Tch… it's the apocalypse, man! Do you get that or not? Before all this, I followed the law too! But now? If you don't do it, someone else will!"
The man sounded desperate, a hint of powerlessness leaking through.
Lam Pham stopped walking, looked at him, and said, "Instead of complaining about the darkness, light a lamp and move forward. Apocalypse or not, what difference does it make? It doesn't matter."
The man stared at him, stunned.
This lunatic had dragged him to a place that was likely crawling with zombies. And yet…
"Are you letting me go or not? This is your last chance."
"No."
"Fine! I'll scream! I'll attract zombies, and we'll both die! I don't care anymore—I've already tasted everything. Death doesn't scare me!"
"Oh."
That simple response made the man furious. Was he an idiot? Or did he really not care about living?
But in the end, he didn't scream.
Because deep down… he was still afraid.
When they arrived at the station, the place was a mess—bloodstains and footprints everywhere.
The man panicked. The place clearly wasn't safe.
Inside, it was dead silent.
"What the hell do you want?! It's the end of the world! They've all run off! Even if you lock me up here, what's the point?" the man roared.
"You're wrong. Someone's here."
Lam Pham looked ahead.
Following his gaze, the man saw two corpses—one of them a zombie, the other a man in a police uniform, slumped against the wall. In the officer's hand was a pistol.
"You see? They didn't run. They fought and took down a zombie. That officer… look at his arm. Bitten. He must've known he'd turn into a zombie, and rather than risk hurting others, he took his own life."
Lam Pham spoke with deep respect.
The man gritted his teeth, trying to stay calm. "You're delusional…"
Then he saw the lunatic push him into a chair, pick up handcuffs, and lock him up.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
"Nothing. Just dropping you off here so you don't run away," Lam Pham replied matter-of-factly.
He walked over to the officer's body.
As a good citizen, he had a duty.
"Officer, I'm Lam Pham, a law-abiding citizen. I found a criminal and brought him in. Whatever happens next has nothing to do with me."
He found a pen and paper, recorded the crime, the time, the place.
At the end, he wrote:
I, Lam Pham, hereby report this individual and take full responsibility for the above statements.
Address: Apartment 704, Building 2, Sunshine Residence.
ID: …
Contact: …
"Alright. Goodbye."
Lam Pham waved and walked out the door.
A small bulletin board on the wall caught his eye.
Stand upright with justice!Hold virtue with integrity!Calm your mind and make wise choices!Study hard and grow your intellect!
Lam Pham smiled. Stepping outside, he looked up at the sky. Though the world around him was eerily silent, there was a growing brightness in his heart.
Look… that was a beam of light.
"Motherfucker… seriously, fuck this…" the man cursed as he struggled. Bound and cuffed, he was sure he could escape.
Then he spotted the key… and a utility knife.
Hope sparked.
A smile crept onto his face.
"You lunatic… when I get out, I'm killing you first."
Thump, thump!
He rocked the chair forward, slowly inching toward the desk.
The sound was loud—but he didn't care. No zombies around, should be fine.
"Damn it, so what if it's the end of the world? I just wanted to mess with a girl…"
He dreamed of escaping, then heading for a big city—where the celebrities were.
Now that the world was in ruins, those gorgeous idols wouldn't be protected anymore.
He wanted them all.
Once a fantasy… now possible.
"But first, get the hell out of here."
Suddenly…
A terrifying growl echoed.
Followed by the sound of shuffling.
The man froze, pale with fear, sweat pouring down.
He looked toward the sound.
A zombie in a police uniform appeared at the entrance.
"No way… how's there a zombie here?"
He trembled, eyes wide with fear. Punishment was upon him. But there was no regret—only terror.
ROAR!
The zombie charged.
"Shit—!"
It sank its teeth into his neck. Blood sprayed as he thrashed violently, trying to escape.
"I don't want to die!"
If Lam Pham were here, he would've said:
"See? Even as a zombie, it still holds its post… punishing criminals to the very end."