The Reborn Otaku’s Code of Practice for the Apocalypse – CH133

Chapter 133 – Resigning Again?

After doing the math carefully, Luo Xun and the others realized that the points they earned each day were barely enough to cover the cost of three meals for just two people. However, there was one major advantage to staying in the metal-type ability team—the captain was extremely generous with crystal cores. Of course, those cores would eventually have to be converted into their labor output and reflected in the work they produced.

For now… although their income had decreased, at least the two of them were living more happily, which wasn’t bad at all. Still, they needed to find ways to obtain more crystal cores; otherwise, it truly wouldn’t be enough to sustain Yan Fei’s daily ability training.

As always, even though they still didn’t know what the ultimate benefit of raising ability levels would be, if they wanted to live freely and comfortably in the base—and protect their home—their ability levels absolutely couldn’t be low. In fact, they needed to stay among the top ranks. Otherwise, they wouldn’t even qualify to be cannon fodder.

After eating their fill, Luo Xun dragged Yan Fei back to work on planting crops and vegetable seeds at home. Soybeans definitely needed to be planted in larger quantities, as did sesame—useful for extracting sesame oil and making sesame paste. Peanuts also needed to be grown.

As for vegetables, the hallway outside and the other rooms were already enough to keep them busy.

They took out the seeds, started raising seedlings, and then checked on their quails. The quails had now been divided into two groups: one group remained on Luo Xun’s balcony, laying eggs daily and hatching chicks to expand the flock. The other group had been moved to Xu Mei and Song Lingling’s place—those were shared contributions for the rest of the team.

Now, Luo Xun’s quail “army” had grown from a single glass enclosure to two large ones, and the quail eggs they collected daily were enough for the two of them.

They cleaned out the droppings from the quail enclosures—these were all natural organic fertilizers! They stored them separately for future composting. Other fertilizer-producing creatures were mostly kept on the fifteenth floor, including mealworms and earthworms.

During the autumn harvest, besides gathering a large amount of crops, they also ended up with piles of inedible vegetable leaves and stalks. Many of these could be fed to the worms and quails, while the rest could be placed in large vats in the corners to slowly compost—though the smell during the process was far from pleasant… Still, once autumn and winter passed and the compost was used up, they wouldn’t have to endure it anymore.

On the first day after completely resigning, Yan Fei noticed that once his beloved had time off, he actually seemed to find even more things to keep himself busy, as if he couldn’t stand being idle.

For example, today—although Luo Xun woke up late, he spent the morning making a large batch of tofu, cooked lunch at noon, raised seedlings in the afternoon, then cleaned out the quail cages, earthworm boxes, and mealworm containers. After finishing all that, he boiled a batch of older quail eggs to extend their shelf life.

Now, he was busy preparing dinner again and had even started planning whether to redesign and improve the crossbows they usually used.

In fact, even if Luo Xun never went out to work again, he could still find plenty to do at home.

Yan Fei had originally worried that staying home all the time might make Luo Xun bored or restless. Now it seemed—he had overthought things. There was no shortage of work at home; there was no need to worry about his partner’s mental well-being at all.

If Luo Xun—who had already perfected the art of being a homebody in his previous life and had remained unemployed throughout the apocalypse—knew what Yan Fei was thinking, he would definitely pat him on the shoulder and tell him not to overthink it.

Without a job, his life would at most become more leisurely, but he would never be bored. Besides, they now had their own small local network, full of TV shows, movies, and novels—killing time was the easiest thing.

That evening, as soon as Li Tie and the others got off work, they rushed home to eat tofu… yes, real tofu. For this, they decisively abandoned Zhang Su and Wang Duo, who had been heading home together with them these past days, and hurried back first.

After asking Xu Mei and Song Lingling how to cook tofu deliciously, Li Tie and the others discussed it and ended up taking out some duck meat, adding potatoes, radishes, green beans, and seasoning everything with fermented bean paste to make a hearty stew.

When Zhang Su and Wang Duo returned home, they joined them at the table, happily competing over the food.

After dinner, the “homebody squad” held their usual nightly tea gathering.

Sitting at the table, sipping warm water, Zhang Su suddenly spoke up, “I heard something from a few patients today.”

As time passed in the apocalypse, fewer and fewer ordinary people could afford hospital care. Most people going to the hospital now had some status—either members of teams or people with enough points and crystal cores. In short, they were “wealthy.” So the information Zhang Su obtained was of a higher level than what ordinary people outside could access.

“What news?” Wu Xin asked curiously, seeing that no one else was prompting him.

“The base is planning to reform some regulations.” Zhang Su blew lightly on his cup. “All teams will need to re-register. The number and types of ability users must be recorded in detail, especially for teams ranked D-level and above. Teams of a certain level will also have monthly tasks assigned according to their rank, with varying difficulty. Also, the rules for leaving the base will change—apparently, even a group of five people will be allowed to go out, and the difficulty of tasks will depend on the number of people.”

He looked at Luo Xun and Yan Fei. “Once it changes, should we go out a few more times each month? I heard the task difficulty will be adjusted.”

Luo Xun and Yan Fei exchanged a glance, slightly surprised.

“If that’s true, and the difficulty really drops, then of course we can go out more often. But… don’t you still have work?” Luo Xun asked. “If five people can leave the base, then the two of us plus Xu Mei, Song Lingling, and Xiao Xinran could go. But you still have your hospital job, don’t you?”

Zhang Su suddenly curved his lips into a smile so charming it could captivate anyone—though everyone in the team except Wang Duo was already immune.

“As for me,” he said, “I’m planning to resign.”

“Ah??”

“Why?”

“What happened? Did someone at the hospital cause trouble for you again?!”

Everyone reacted differently, but all looked at him in shock. Zhang Su’s job had the best benefits among those working outside, but it was also the most exhausting. Given his personality… before the apocalypse, he would have been fired countless times already. But now—would the hospital even let him go? Besides, working there had been his own decision, and he seemed to enjoy it.

Zhang Su took another sip of water casually. “I’m bored of it. Staying at home seems pretty good—especially since I can go out and hunt zombies whenever I want.”

After about a year, the emotional turmoil from the early days of the apocalypse—especially being betrayed by his ex-boyfriend—had largely subsided. With Wang Duo constantly hovering around him, obedient and attentive, practically catering to his every need, Zhang Su had little reason to vent his emotions through work anymore.

With someone like that by his side—and occasional trips outside the base to kill monsters—he no longer needed the emotional outlet his job provided.

Especially with Luo Xun and Yan Fei as examples—he, a well-known wind-type ability user in the hospital, naturally attracted attention.

Whether from the military or other ability teams, people had constantly approached him since he started working there. And their behavior was becoming increasingly annoying and unbearable. If this continued, he might explode one day and add a batch of new patients to his own hospital.

When the trouble caused by work far outweighed its emotional benefits, Zhang Su no longer wanted to tolerate it.

And besides, he had never been the type to endure such things. Before the apocalypse, he might have restrained himself—but now… without this job, he could still live just fine.

It had to be said that the greenhouse Luo Xun and the others built for growing crops at home gave the entire “homebody squad” a strong sense of security.

Even Li Tie and the others were tempted—sometimes seriously considering whether they should just quit their jobs and stay home farming.

Zhang Su’s wishes and decisions—unless they had a major impact on the whole team—were never something anyone would deliberately oppose or stop. So after he spoke, everyone simply expressed the same attitude: as long as you’re happy, do whatever you like—we won’t interfere.

But the real obstacle to his resignation might come from elsewhere.

“Will your hospital leaders even agree?” Luo Xun kindly reminded him.

Zhang Su curled his lips, his peach-blossom eyes full of charm as he glanced at him. “My contract’s up.”

“Contract?” Everyone froze. What contract?

“When I first came to the base and joined the hospital, I signed a work agreement. It was only for one year—pretty much the same as employment contracts before the apocalypse.” As he spoke, he swept a disdainful look across the room. “You guys didn’t sign anything, did you? Before the apocalypse, that wouldn’t even count as temp work. They could fire you anytime, and you wouldn’t even have grounds to complain.”

They looked at each other. Indeed… none of them had signed anything. And in a world like this, who even cared about contracts anymore?

Yan Fei suddenly stroked his chin, seeming to think of something. His gaze swept over Li Tie and the others, clearly intending to ask them something later in private.

“So… you mean…” Luo Xun took a moment to process, “once the contract ends, you can just leave?”

Zhang Su smiled, his eyes curving. “Exactly. They’re of no use to me anymore anyway.”

Silently mourning for the hospital for three seconds, Luo Xun raised his earlier concern again. “But even with a contract… will they really let you go?”

Everyone knew how important medical staff were in the base. After the apocalypse, the population had dropped sharply, and new births were far fewer than the lives lost. Under such circumstances, it wouldn’t be easy for the hospital to replenish its staff. Would they really allow Zhang Su to leave?

Zhang Su let out a cold laugh. “If I want to leave, do you think they can stop me?” He rocked his chair lazily. “I’ll just go tomorrow, say a word, and come straight home.”

At that point, he could simply change his phone card and avoid going near the hospital—no one would be able to find him. Though… his situation was a bit different from Luo Xun’s. His residence had been assigned by the military. How could he make sure they wouldn’t come bothering him later?

After thinking it over briefly, everyone decided to let him do as he pleased. No one could control him anyway. The only loss would be his salary—and the food at home was enough to sustain them.

After their nightly meeting ended, Yan Fei stopped Li Tie. Zhang Su also stayed behind, while Xu Mei and Song Lingling took Xiao Xinran downstairs to sleep. Only then did Yan Fei turn to Zhang Su again.

“You’re just tired of working?” he asked.

Zhang Su was usually willful and free-spirited, but when it came to actual matters, he tended to keep things within reasonable limits. Today’s decision felt a bit off.

Zhang Su raised an eyebrow and clicked his tongue. “Fine. Those people have been pestering me non-stop, and someone even tried to cause trouble for me recently. I also heard the military is planning to send people out to contact other bases and needs medical personnel to go along. Seems like someone’s got their eye on me.” He spread his hands. “I’m not interested in serving them.”

…

That explanation made sense. After all, Zhang Su didn’t rely on a job to support himself.

Li Tie’s face twitched. He coughed and quickly turned to Yan Fei. “Brother Yan, what did you want to ask?”

Yan Fei got straight to the point. “Can you access the base’s information database?”

“We can,” Li Tie replied, “but we don’t have permission for more sensitive data.” He called over He Qiankun. “He’s the one who handles this stuff best among us.”

After a moment’s thought, Yan Fei said, “Without affecting your work—and without leaving any trace—can you completely delete the information Luo Xun and I had in the metal ability team? Mainly contact details like phone numbers. It’s fine to leave names.”

They could easily switch SIM cards—phones were often lost or damaged during missions, and replacements were common. Even newcomers or those who previously couldn’t afford phones were constantly getting new numbers.

But he was concerned about whether the base might have their home address or other personal details recorded.

At this, Zhang Su suddenly raised his hand with a grin. “Mine too!”

When he first moved in, he had been quite high-profile, even escorted by military personnel. But after some time without contact, who knew if those people were still around?

Once the data was deleted, even if the military wanted to find him, they would have to go through official channels instead of having other factions easily access his information.

On this point, he and Yan Fei were thinking exactly the same.

He Qiankun grinned, rubbing his belly unconsciously. “That’s easy. The base network is basically just a local network. Only military computers can access it properly, so the so-called security measures are full of holes. Anyone with a bit of pre-apocalypse hacking knowledge could break in. Editing data without leaving traces is a piece of cake.”

Then he looked eagerly at Luo Xun. “Brother Luo… hehe, I want to eat those pickled cucumber strips you made before…”

Luo Xun rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “Fine, I’ll make them tomorrow. You can eat them when you get back in the evening.”

It wasn’t even hard to make—just that they had used up quite a bit of white vinegar while making tofu today. After this batch, there probably wouldn’t be much left…

Maybe it was time to consider making their own vinegar?

They hadn’t prepared barley seeds before the apocalypse, so they could only make rice vinegar or sorghum vinegar. But they didn’t have enough raw materials for that either. It seemed they’d need to rearrange the planting racks on their walls to grow some new crops.

Yes—he’d start tomorrow.

—

Early the next morning, when Luo Xun and Yan Fei woke up, they discovered that Zhang Su had already gone to the hospital and returned. He was now leisurely following Xu Mei and Song Lingling around the rooms, checking on crops and occasionally helping with chores.

Seeing them come out, Zhang Su raised an eyebrow mockingly. “Oh, you’re up? Captain had a busy night, huh?”

Luo Xun decided to ignore him. He checked the crops in the corridor and began thinning out the seedlings.

Yan Fei glanced at Zhang Su. “Done resigning?”

Zhang Su waved his hand casually. “When I got there, the boss had gone to a meeting at the military camp. I told his assistant and came back.”

Luo Xun silently mourned for the hospital leadership again. How do you deal with someone like this? You can’t beat him, and you can’t out-argue him…

Yet Zhang Su stood there, looking utterly pleased with himself. “Ah, life without work is really comfortable…”

Xu Mei came out of a room just then. Hearing him, she said, “Since you’re so comfortable, go check the mushroom boxes. There should be more poisonous mushrooms to harvest. Be careful—if the juice from the poisonous ones touches the normal ones, it’ll corrode them!”

Zhang Su’s smile froze, then twisted slightly. Still, he didn’t argue and followed Song Lingling inside to learn how to handle the mushrooms.

After everyone spent the morning inspecting all the crops, Luo Xun reviewed the planting racks in his room. Realizing he could grow more unusual crops—especially ones useful for making condiments—he dug through his seed storage and turned to Yan Fei.

“How about we go to the exchange window this afternoon and see if they have other seeds? Like barley or oats. We don’t need a lot, but it’s good to have some on hand in case we need them later.”

Yan Fei had no objections and simply nodded. “Alright, let’s go out for a walk this afternoon.”

After lunch, and after preparing the sweet-and-sour pickled cucumbers that He Qiankun had specifically requested, the two of them put on their coats and got ready to head out.

At that moment, Zhang Su was surrounded by Xiao Xinran—who refused to take a nap—and a dog. The two little creatures circled around Zhang Su’s legs, running and spinning non-stop, until his face darkened, looking like he was on the verge of exploding. Xu Mei and Song Lingling stood to the side, watching the scene with amusement, showing no intention of pulling the child away.

The little girl was quite appearance-oriented—for example, among all the “uncles,” her favorites to look at were Yan Fei and Zhang Su, and among all the “aunties,” the one she most liked to cling to and act spoiled around was also Zhang Su… Wait, something about that seemed off.

Seeing this, Luo Xun showed absolutely no camaraderie and simply skipped over Zhang Su, asking Xu Mei and the others, “We’re going to the exchange window to look for seeds. Do you need us to bring anything back?”

The two women discussed briefly and shook their heads. “No, if we need anything, we’ll go ourselves in a couple of days.”

—

Under the snow-covered base, everything felt especially cold. There were hardly any vehicles on the streets anymore, and pedestrians were much fewer than usual. Those who had lived in roadside vehicles during the summer had mostly moved out by now.

The number of makeshift structures along the streets had increased again—not in quantity, but in thickness.

To fend off the bitter cold, many people had layered their walls again and again. Foam insulation had become highly sought after in the base. Though light and seemingly insignificant, its thermal insulation was excellent—adding a layer of it to walls greatly improved resistance to the cold.

Many who had once only collected cardboard or wooden crates during scavenging trips had now returned to the ruins of the city to retrieve the foam they had previously discarded.

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