QT: The Rescue Of The Miserable Bigshots

"Do you know what the consequences will be if Jiang Qing realizes the importance of that bottle of water and becomes greedy?"

Ling Zhuang ignored Jiang Jiamian's teasing tone, his voice low and sharp. "There's an old saying: 'A man is innocent until he possesses a treasure.' In an era like this, where greed defines survival, that treasure will invite disaster. If word spreads that you hold something capable of turning ordinary people into the awakened, do you know what will follow? Endless pursuit. Endless bloodshed."

His eyes darkened further. "And that's not all."

It wasn't just the bottle of water.

Jiang Jiamian's undisguised strength, his 'dual abilities' at ninety-eight points, would be enough to lure every schemer like moths to flame.

And on top of that… his unique identity as the Zombie King. If discovered, it would ignite a catastrophe.

Does this idiot really understand? Or is he pretending not to? Ling Zhuang's chest tightened with unease. How can someone like him be so careless, so unwilling to live low-key?

For once, the twisted aura that always surrounded Ling Zhuang seemed to falter. Jiang Jiamian caught the flicker of real concern in his expression. The faint anxiety was so out of character that it almost overlapped with a memory of the group leader who had once guided him.

Jiang Jiamian's heart stirred. Without thinking, he stepped forward, slipped an arm around Ling Zhuang's neck, and rested his face lightly on his shoulder. His voice softened into something almost fragile. "You'll protect me, won't you?"

"What?"

Ling Zhuang stiffened, caught off guard. This was not the Jiang Jiamian he knew, not the sharp-tongued, thorn-covered brat who always met him with defiance.

"I said…" Jiang Jiamian whispered again, more deliberately this time, "Even if I'm reckless… even if I speak too boldly and bring disaster on myself… you'll still protect me, right?"

For a moment, Ling Zhuang's mind went blank. It was as if a shaft of light pierced through the heavy fog of his thoughts, scattering all the cruel amusements and cold manipulations he usually entertained.

The world seemed to collapse into a single point: the warmth of the body pressed against his chest, the soft words asking for protection.

"Yes." He heard himself say, almost before he realized it. "I will protect you."

The vow surprised him. But in that instant, he had no other thought. Only the desire to promise.

Jiang Jiamian raised his head slightly, tilting his face up toward Ling Zhuang's. His smile was faint, his eyes clear. "Then if I wanted you to be a good person… a savior… would you agree?"

The word landed like a stone in water, shattering the fragile moment. Ling Zhuang's body stiffened again, sobriety flooding back into his veins. His lips curved, but the smile was cold.

"Savior?" He repeated. "What is a savior? I've dragged out humanity's filth, laid bare their ugliest selves. I've transformed ordinary people into powerful beings who claw their way through the higher laws of survival. That too is salvation. Is it not?"

Jiang Jiamian: "…"

This guy is a nightmare to fool.

Was he really going to accompany him to tear the world apart? Possible, but honestly, boring. Too easy.

Jiang Jiamian's challenges were never about lofty ideals like saving the world.

They were about change. About turning a saint into a villain, a villain into a saint. To twist beauty into misery, misery into triumph. To hold good and evil in his hands like two coins to flip at will. That was the true game.

"And besides…" Ling Zhuang tilted his head, slyness returning to his gaze, "Look at that bottle of water. If I'm not mistaken, you yourself carry the power to cleanse the virus, the ability to save the world. Don't you?"

Jiang Jiamian: "…"

Very sharp eyes indeed.

Ling Zhuang touched his cheek lightly, reading the thoughts flickering there. "I remember. The former Jiang Jiamian, the one I created, became the Zombie King, death clung to him like a shroud. But you…" His gaze lingered. "You can pass as human. Your eyes and lips bear the trace of poison, but the aura of death unique to zombies is gone. Washed away."

If he was right, then that mysterious water didn't just grant strength. It cleansed. Purified.

Jiang Jiamian flashed him a courteous smile. "You're clever."

Ling Zhuang leaned closer, voice dropping into a deep murmur. "Then, my dear Zombie King, answer me. If you and I both carry the power to save this world… why do you insist on pushing the role of savior onto me?"

Kindness? Compassion? Nonsense.

If Jiang Jiamian truly cared for the world, he would have already acted. Ling Zhuang saw through him: beneath the sarcasm, they were the same kind of person. Indifferent. Detached. Seeing the world as nothing more than a stage for amusement.

Jiang Jiamian's lips curved faintly. He looked straight into Ling Zhuang's eyes and said each word clearly. "Because I want you to experience the joy of being a god."

Ling Zhuang lowered his gaze, lashes shadowing his eyes. "A god? There are no gods or demons. People use those words selfishly. Those who benefit them are gods. Those who harm them are demons. It's just perspective. It's narrow and pathetic."

Jiang Jiamian countered softly, "But you can be either with a thought. Demon, you've already tried. Doesn't curiosity prick you? If you've been one, won't you wonder what it's like to be the other?"

The logic slid neatly into place, and for the first time, Ling Zhuang faltered. His silence stretched, rare hesitation flickering across his face.

Jiang Jiamian didn't press. He simply yawned, flopping lazily onto the bed behind him. "So sleepy. Two days without proper sleep, five without a bed. Forget philosophy, right now I want nothing more than three days of unconscious rest."

Ling Zhuang's expression smoothed back into neutrality. He said nothing, only walked to the other side of the bed. Still clothed, he lay down on the outer edge, eyes closing.

Jiang Jiamian: "…"

Seriously?

Sharing the same bed, and this pervert really had no designs other than possession?

He sighed, burying his face into the pillow. Maybe he only wants a perfect treasure to keep beside him, not to touch.

Still, that might be the most dangerous desire of all.