Transmigrated as the Cannon Fodder Boss of the Disabled Heroine - Chapter 47

Zhou Zhou was that mutual friend of Fang Nianjing and Mrs. Chen, though their relationship wasn’t particularly close.

The Alpha’s hands were dexterous, and the two were intimately familiar with each other’s bodies. Fang Nianjing could easily discern her needs and desires. An Yaoyao’s breathing grew heavier, her gaze hazy, until they both collapsed onto the old metal-framed bed.

The bed was far from comfortable, the sheets permeated with the lavender scent of a particular laundry detergent. The Alpha’s keen sense of smell immediately recognized it as the brand she endorsed, fueling her fervor as she tangled with An Yaoyao.

The Omega, her scent gland bitten, trembled like a waterlogged sponge ball, swaying in the Alpha’s grasp. Moonlight, filtered through the patterned glass, fractured into scattered fragments on the floor, dancing with the shadows of the curtains.

In the rundown tenement building, nearly half the residents had already moved out. The remaining occupants were mostly elderly or struggling couples making ends meet with small businesses, toiling from dawn till dusk. The third-floor room was unusually lined with soundproofing foam, muffling the warmth that filled the space.

Afterward, Fang Nianjing got up to fetch water for An Yaoyao, gently kissing the corner of her lips.

An Yaoyao’s voice was slightly hoarse. She drank two full glasses before exhaling deeply, pulling the electric heater closer and leaning against Fang Nianjing’s shoulder to resume their earlier conversation:

“You know how I often volunteer at that combined welfare center? Well, the other day, I saw Miss Pei heading to the water plant. She might suspect something’s off there. I just thought that water plant is shady, and that Chen woman sold her out. If I saw something, I couldn’t just ignore it. There are so many elderly and children there. If anything really happened, they wouldn’t be able to escape.”

An Yaoyao usually worked odd jobs for income and was a long-term volunteer at the welfare center. She held no real authority, and the water plant’s affairs shouldn’t have concerned her. But she genuinely worried for the elderly and children there.

She had lost her father early and was raised by her mother in this tenement. When her mother fell ill and passed away during An Yaoyao’s tenth year, the nursing home not yet merged was nearby. An elderly couple from the welfare home had saved portions of their own meals to feed her.

Later, an old woman helped wash her clothes and occasionally taught her to read and write. An Yaoyao held deep affection for this neighborhood. Even when she found jobs with room and board, she couldn’t bring herself to leave.

Rumors said Mrs. Chen had personally visited the welfare center even conducted transactions there bold to the point of recklessness. Powerless to stop it, An Yaoyao feared worse: that they might target the land itself. Her mind spiraled human experiments? Organ trafficking? She considered reporting it but had no evidence, leaving her unable to eat properly for a long time.

Fang Nianjing’s heart ached for her. Of course, she was willing to help, using Chen Lulu as a conduit to pass the information to Pei Yuqian.

The Omega in her arms exuded a rich, intoxicating fragrance from her scent gland, filling the room and stirring the Alpha’s instincts. But Fang Nianjing glanced at the lightening sky outside, calmly fastening her loosened buttons and tucking away stray threads before straightening An Yaoyao’s disheveled clothes.

She rested her head against Anyao Yao’s forehead, savoring the familiar warmth of the Omega and the rare moment of tranquility, intoxicated by her natural scent.

After the initial excitement, Anyao Yao was overcome with drowsiness, her eyelids growing heavy. As she drowsily stroked her arm, she murmured:

“We were both raised by the kindness of many. Grandpa Liu and Grandma Yang treated us the best, along with Grandma Tao… If they want to demolish the land for redevelopment, they’ll have to handle the urban residency permits first. If they try anything shady, our country isn’t lawless…”

Fang Nianjing responded with a low, muffled “Mm,” then cupped Anyao Yao’s face and pulled her into her embrace.

The recent livestream had yielded excellent results, much to Pei Jinhuai’s delight. She even called to praise Pei Yujiang, though it was more of a boss commending an employee than a mother praising her daughter. She encouraged Pei Yujiang to stream more often to build an audience early on, emphasizing that selling beauty products wasn’t the priority yet just getting her face out there.

A few days later, Pei Yujiang received a package, a drone Jiang Wenxiu had bought for her, registered under a fake name and IP. That girl really knew her way around these things.

After unpacking it with satisfaction, Pei Yujiang sent Jiang Wenxiu a generous red packet, promising to treat her to hot pot when she returned to Yicheng.

Today, Yu Zhiwan had gone to the hospital again, so Pei Yujiang took the opportunity to stream solo. The moment she went live, she was bombarded with complaints about how she had abruptly ended her ghost story last time and disappeared.

Pei Yujiang’s stream had two moderators, one promoted from the fanbase and another from Yue Rong’s staff. The fan moderator joined in the playful barrage:

[Was Fish Sauce running off to see her girlfriend that day? If so, you’re forgiven!]

By now, Pei Yujiang was no longer flustered by such teasing interactions. She even played along, stroking her chin thoughtfully before joking with the audience:

“Does a female friend count?”

The chat erupted in collective exasperation, and Pei Yujiang burst into laughter before continuing the story.

Truthfully, the “ghost story” she had told wasn’t supernatural at all, it was just a case of human paranoia and an overactive imagination. But as expected, the audience felt cheated, complaining that she had given them the worst kind of ending either “it was all a dream” or “the character was mentally unstable.”

They urged her to tell something scarier or to fix the unsatisfying conclusion. After some thought, Pei Yujiang launched into a classic non-supernatural horror trope: human experimentation.

Bare-faced and beautiful, she spoke solemnly into the camera, her tone more suited to delivering a report than telling a story.

She described the origins of zombies, a concept not uncommon in today’s advanced sci-fi and entertainment industries. But having experienced it firsthand, her vivid narration sent chills down the spines of those who listened closely.

[Hypothetically, if something like this really happened, would the government intervene?]

The chat was unusually sparse, with most viewers too engrossed to type. The first brave soul to ask the question went unnoticed Pei Yujiang pretended not to see it and kept talking. Soon enough, the discussion took off.

[They wouldn’t just abandon people, right? Have faith in our country.]

“Hmm, hard to say. The wealthy would definitely be rescued, while us ordinary folks would have to depend on the situation, maybe even leave it to fate. What if resources run short or there are too many zombies here? Would they just drop a bomb and call it a day?”

The public’s imagination was quite vivid. The scenario this person described was actually similar to how some cities had handled things in her past life.

When the zombie outbreak first began, the government naturally did everything possible to rescue people, as saving more lives meant preserving hope.

But as efforts became increasingly strained and gaps widened, even going all out might not be enough to save every disaster-stricken area. The losses often far outweighed the number of survivors, not to mention the looming issue of the virus’s incubation period.

Gradually, local factions began to fracture. One city’s mayor took matters into their own hands, dropping bombs on zombie-infested zones without regard for the civilians still trapped there. The shrieking undead and desperate survivors alike were buried in flames.

Other cities soon adopted this brutal method. Some, unwilling to die, and further incited by lawless elements, only plunged society deeper into chaos.

Pei Yujiang cleared her throat and noticed her water cup was empty. She decided to grab a drink before continuing, but by the time she returned, her livestream had already been banned.

She barely registered the water spilling from her hands as she rushed to her computer, swearing under her breath for once.

“Damn it!”

A glaring notification stared back at her:

“Following reports from concerned citizens, the platform reminds you to maintain a green and civilized online environment. Please refrain from discussing explicit, false, inflammatory, or divisive content. Your livestream has been reported for potential violations and is under investigation. We apologize for the inconvenience and appreciate your patience.”

Patience was the last thing Pei Yujiang had.

If only she could show footage from the apocalypse, it would prove every word she said was true each syllable a blood-soaked testament from someone who had lived through it.

But alas, this was an era of peace. Even if warning signs were emerging in some places, once reported, she had to face the consequences.

This account had amassed a sizable following, frequently ranking high in the “Beauty” section. Many already recognized her face.

Viewers in that category often followed based on looks alone, keeping its popularity sky-high. Pei Yujiang had become one of its top streamers, her livestream account even surpassing her official public profile in followers. Losing it and starting over was not an option.

Fuming, she racked her brain before realizing her cheap sister, Jiang Wenxiu, might actually be useful for once. Jiang Wenxiu was skilled with electronics, so Pei Yujiang dialed her number. After a few rings, Jiang Wenxiu answered lazily:

“Yeah? What do you want to buy now?”

“My livestream got banned.”

“Ha, wait, what? Which bastard reported you?”

Jiang Wenxiu caught herself mid-sentence, but Pei Yujiang ignored both her slip and the cursing. She quickly summarized the situation, to which Jiang Wenxiu responded with surprising loyalty:

“Fifteen minutes. Wait for it.”

Pei Yujiang went to grab a mop for the spilled water, but barely ten minutes later, Jiang Wenxiu video-called her back.

“Here, this idiot, his IP is in Yicheng. I just did a quick check for you, it overlaps with that Zhao person’s IP.”

Pei Jinhuai had a feud with the Zhao family. As a junior, Pei Yujiang was initially involved but was later told by Pei Jinhuai to stay out of it due to other pressing matters. Over time, she gradually forgot about it.

Who would have thought Zhao Longshuang would still be relentless?

On the other end, Jiang Wenxiu unplugged her gaming keyboard and swiftly replaced it with another, her fingers flying across the keys. When Pei Yujiang asked what she was doing, Jiang Wenxiu, with a lollipop in her mouth, mumbled:

“Daring to mess with my turf? I’ll make sure this bastard regrets it!”

Fan Zhaozhao and Pei Jinhuai had bonded over their shared experiences of being wronged by their ex-husbands. Jiang Wenxiu’s father was even worse than Pei Yujiang’s original one abusive and foul-mouthed during her childhood. Jiang Wenxiu picked up his habits quickly, though her insults always revolved around the word “father.”

Pei Yujiang ignored her habit and raised an eyebrow:

“You’ve got skills like that?”

“Of course! Didn’t you know that in middle school, when that old bastard of a homeroom teacher punished me, I filled his computer screen with turtles?”

Pei Yujiang couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image. But then, remembering Jiang Wenxiu was still a minor, she cautioned:

“Don’t misuse these skills. If someone bullies you, fight back, but never—”

“Yeah, yeah, you sound more naggy than my mom!”

The rebellious Jiang Wenxiu had an uncanny talent for electronics. Despite never being formally taught, she managed to hack into Zhao Longshuang’s computer and planted a virus. While it wouldn’t steal anything, it would certainly cause enough trouble to teach her a lesson.

Watching Jiang Wenxiu’s nimble fingers dance across the keyboard, Pei Yujiang briefly considered asking for her help in sending a message to the mayor of Xiangcheng. But she quickly dismissed the idea.

This was a dangerous path. She was already taking enough risks, she couldn’t drag others into it recklessly.

After Zhao Longshuang was discreetly retaliated against, she quieted down for a while, causing no further trouble. Pei Yujiang, preoccupied with more pressing matters, didn’t actively monitor her.

After Christmas, the weather in Xiangcheng gradually warmed. By mid-January, the depths of winter had officially bid farewell to the city.

Pei Yujiang spent over half a month meticulously mapping the terrain. During this time, she also visited the welfare home several times as a volunteer, familiarizing herself with the layout. On her next visit, she waited until the children were taking their afternoon nap.

Hidden under the shade of a less conspicuous tree, Pei Yujiang maneuvered a drone, guiding it shakily toward the sewage treatment plant.

Late winter and early spring marked the thawing of ice and the revival of life. During the coldest days, parts of the sewage plant had been thinly frozen. Now, with the ice completely melted, the result wasn’t the gentle murmur of spring water but a thick, suffocating stench.

The opposite wall had been reinforced at some point, but the nauseating odor of decay still permeated the air as if piles of rotting garbage were heaped behind it. Even through the wall, the stench invaded the nostrils relentlessly.

Few people from the welfare institution come here these days no one wants to subject their nose to such torment.

Pei Yujiang wouldn’t want to be here either unless absolutely necessary. Wearing her operating glasses, the woman carefully bent down to pick a nameless little flower blooming in the corner and held it to her nose to fend off the invasive stench.

Meanwhile, the drone flew deftly through the sewage plant, recording everything.

The drone was exquisitely crafted, with a wide field of vision and crystal-clear projection. Pei Yujiang scrutinized the footage carefully, skillfully avoiding surveillance cameras. She mainly conducted aerial reconnaissance, not daring to venture boldly inside.

Most of the plant’s layout matched her deductions, requiring only minor adjustments later. After surveying most of the area, she noted two particularly odd spots. Then, midway through, she suddenly spotted several people emerging from a building. Pei Yujiang swiftly maneuvered the drone to evade, barely escaping their line of sight.

The leader spat on the ground with a ptui, swinging a long iron rod in his hand as if loosening his wrist.

Just to be safe, Pei Yujiang initially intended to withdraw the drone immediately. Getting caught would be troublesome, she’d likely be unable to capture any footage for a long time, and it would put the others on high alert.

But when she caught sight of that gleaming, thick iron rod, she hesitated.

She hid the drone at an angle where it couldn’t be seen, but this also meant it could no longer film the group.

She recalled the vicious dog mentioned by the plant workers last time.

That iron rod was probably meant for the dog. After all, rabies was terrifying enough on its own they were likely keeping a mentally unstable, rabid beast. No one would dare approach without some form of protection.

Pei Yujiang’s breathing quickened.

If she sent the drone in now, she might uncover information about the dog. Even if it was kept in an enclosed space, she could at least pinpoint its general location. But the risk was still considerable.

The plant was large, and hesitation might mean losing track of the group. Time was tight. Gritting her teeth, Pei Yujiang refused to let herself procrastinate further and steered the drone forward.

Fortunately, the group hadn’t gone far. Through the drone’s wide lens and infrared light, she spotted them immediately.

The man with the iron rod cautiously unlocked a door using a fingerprint scanner. The faint sound of barking seeped through the drone’s audio feed into Pei Yujiang’s ears.

She had deliberately kept her distance to avoid detection, hovering far behind in the air. Yet the dog’s barks still carried with startling clarity.

Its voice was hoarse and grating unlike the rounded barks of a normal dog. It sounded more like a wolf, laced with murderous intent, sharp and drawn-out, sending chills down the spine.

The iron rod man cursed under his breath.

The sight of the dog unnerved him, but the task had fallen to him, and he had no choice. Steeling himself, he took the lead, gesturing for the person behind him to bring up the slop bucket.

But the other man was too scared, handing over the bucket before refusing to take another step forward. The iron rod man shot him a glare, then lifted the bucket and inched forward amid the frenzied barking.

He moved slowly.

Pei Yujiang zoomed in on the image, only to be startled the next second by the sudden close-up that filled her vision.

The massive dog was no smaller than a large breed like an Alaskan Malamute, but far more ferocious. Its eyes were bloodshot, its maw gaping to reveal gleaming, razor-sharp fangs. Its claws resembled grappling hooks, curved almost like an eagle’s talons, though worn down from walking on the ground.

Even mentally prepared, Pei Yujiang felt her heart pound uncontrollably.

The early spring sunlight filtered through the gaps of newborn leaves onto her face, yet brought none of the warmth of nature’s rebirth. Instead, it felt like an icy current had invaded her bloodstream. Trembling slightly, she quickly pressed a hand to her temple.

After a moment, the world regained its color and sound before her eyes.

In her past life, Pei Yujiang had faced countless zombie beasts. Killing zombies even bandits had become routine, never making her hands shake no matter how terrifying their appearance.

But now, having traveled back two hundred years to confront the prototype of those zombie creatures, the chill in her veins served as a constant reminder of Xiang City’s future ruin and the devastation that would befall the nation’s major cities.

This was an agony only those who’d lived through it could understand. The hidden grief gnawing at her heart finally burst through its dam, assaulting her defenses again and again.

The hellish scenes of Xiang City recorded in history books were terrifying enough, yet Pei Yujiang had never been able to imagine its former glory from mere written accounts.

Now that she’d experienced it firsthand, she might have to witness its downfall alone if they failed in the future.

Pei Yujiang didn’t consider herself fragile, but her emotions teetered on the edge of control. She watched as the mutated dog viciously lunged for food, completely deranged, even attempting to attack the keeper before being struck by the man with an iron rod. Instead of retreating, it grew more enraged, its eyes blood-red and horrifyingly sinister.

After obtaining this footage, Pei Yujiang wanted to continue filming, but the people inside seemed to grow wary. After some hushed discussion, they began searching the area. She quickly maneuvered the drone away without capturing more.

Regardless, this dog represented a major breakthrough, a crucial piece of evidence she could present.

Yet for some reason, Pei Yujiang’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

She didn’t leave immediately, instead standing beneath a tree to examine the photos. The recorded images differed from what she’d seen through the wide-angle lens earlier. So engrossed was she that she failed to notice approaching footsteps.

By the time she snapped back to awareness, it was too late. Chagrined at her uncharacteristic lapse in alertness, her gaze suddenly met a familiar figure.

Pei Yujiang thought she was mistaken, but after blinking hard, there was no doubt, Yu Zhiwan sat calmly in her wheelchair as usual, right before her.

She’d told Yu Zhiwan about volunteering at the orphanage during free time without hiding anything. Yu Zhiwan had merely responded with a neutral “Mm” at the time.

Never expecting her to come here, Pei Yujiang found herself overwhelmed by a flood of conflicting emotions.

But before she could spare a moment to think, Yu Zhiwan had already stepped in front of her. Without waiting for Pei Yujiang to speak, she grasped her fingers, holding them gently in her hand and giving them a slight shake.

When the Omega’s delicate fingertips lightly brushed against hers, Pei Yujiang could no longer hold back the lump rising in her throat. Sensing her emotions, Yu Zhiwan reached out with her other hand and, as Pei Yujiang crouched down, soothingly stroked her head.

Her voice was as gentle as ever, carrying a soothing calmness as she spoke just a few simple words.

She said:

“I understand, be good.”

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