TFRLTOP Chapter 74 Part 1

Chapter 74 — The Captain’s Little Widow 

◎ Ex-Husband, your wife belongs to me now. ◎

It was hard to describe the atmosphere at that moment.
Everyone gathered around the table — the team members behind Captain Guan Yi included — exchanged stunned looks.

Ming Ming was completely frozen. Just a second ago, she’d been bragging to her system about how quick-witted she was:
“See that? Out in the world, your identity’s what you make of it.”
The next second, she was struck by lightning.

No one could quite define what had just happened.

You couldn’t say Ming Ming was caught bad-mouthing someone, because technically, she wasn’t.
And you couldn’t say she’d deceived the captain’s feelings, since she hadn’t actually confessed to Guan Yi either.

After all, she was supposed to be a newly widowed woman — how could she possibly move on so soon?

So everyone just stood there, unsure how to break the awkward silence.

Seeing how tense the situation was, one of the older bald team members decided to be the hero.
“Ah— you know, when I was driving earlier, I thought the tire pressure felt a bit off… I’d better go check if it’s punctured,” he said, already edging toward the exit.

The others looked at him with pure admiration.
A true warrior.

No one else would dare talk their way out of an awkward standoff with their cold-faced captain — but the bald uncle had done it.

Guan Yi shot him a sharp look.
“What, you think you’re riding an electric scooter?” he said icily.

The man scratched his head, let out a sheepish laugh, and hurried off anyway.

His escape was all the encouragement the rest needed. Once someone broke the ice, the rest found their own ridiculous excuses.
“My cactus hasn’t been watered in three hours — I should really go.”
“My best buddy and I accidentally broke our bed last night. I should go fix it.”
Each excuse was more absurd than the last.

An Ning quickly followed, saying, “The specimen in my lab is about to give birth, so I should go help deliver it.”
Then she grabbed An Yue — one of the two culprits responsible for this entire scene — and left.

Within moments, only Guan Yi and Ming Ming remained in the hall.

Of course, the others hadn’t really gone far. They’d simply scattered around nearby corners to secretly watch the drama unfold.

Guan Yi’s cold stare locked on her. Ming Ming stood nervously and whispered, “Good evening, Captain.”

“Have you figured out a plan?” her system whispered.
“No,” she murmured back.
“Then what are you gonna do?”
“If he doesn’t move, I don’t move. I didn’t do anything wrong anyway. Let him speak first…” she said, lowering her head and vowing to stick to her “quail survival strategy.”

The moment she called him “Captain,” Guan Yi let out a cold, humorless laugh.
Just days ago, she’d been following him around, calling him “Guan Yi” in that soft, sweet voice — anyone overhearing might’ve thought he’d been withholding her meals out of spite.
But now that her secret was out, she was back to being all polite again.

He stared at her, thoughts tumbling in his mind.
She’s married? She had a husband? No — her husband’s dead. That means ex-husband. Still, she had an ex-husband? And that guy actually got to marry her?

The question that echoed loudest in his mind was —
What does she take me for?

“You’re married?” he asked flatly.

Ming Ming gave a tiny, timid nod.

“How old are you?” he asked again.

Since Bai He — her assumed identity — was a year younger than her actual age, she answered honestly, “Twenty.”

“Twenty?” His tone shot up an octave. “You’re only twenty this year?”

The word twenty echoed through the empty hall.

Everyone eavesdropping was just as stunned.
The apocalypse had been going on for nearly three years, which meant she must’ve been underage when she got married.

Guan Yi turned aside and cursed under his breath.
“You were twenty? You couldn’t even legally register a marriage. What kind of wedding was that supposed to be?”

Ming Ming nearly cried.
She’d told the lie herself — now she had no choice but to stick to it.

“I just…” she began, but Guan Yi cut her off again.
“Even if you two got together right after the apocalypse started, how old were you then? Huh?”

“I—”

“That man — what kind of animal was he? Didn’t he know you weren’t even of age?” Guan Yi’s voice thundered.

Was she… tricked into being someone’s mistress?

Tears welled up in Ming Ming’s eyes. “Don’t you call him an animal! You’re the animal!” she snapped.

Still defending him.

Guan Yi froze, glaring at her — chest rising and falling with restrained fury.

Even when she cursed him, her voice was soft, almost delicate. Yet she’d raised it to defend that scumbag.
So what if that man had protected her? He had saved her too.

Fuming, Guan Yi paced back and forth.

Ming Ming prayed silently that he wouldn’t start asking for details — she swore she’d come up with a tighter story later. Improvising wasn’t exactly her strong suit.

Finally, Guan Yi stopped and faced her. His voice dropped low.
“That day… when you ran into my arms — who were you looking at? Did you mistake me for him?” There was a hint of disbelief in his tone.

Oh no. He was moving into dangerous territory again.

Before she could even answer, he raised his voice.
“I was fully armed that day. You couldn’t even see my face. How the hell did you think I looked like him?”

Ming Ming lowered her head, eyes darting nervously.
“He… he used to wear similar gear when he went out…” she mumbled, voice trailing off.

Guan Yi froze, lost in thought.

Her words made him think.

If Bai He’s late husband — ex-husband — used to go out in full combat gear, that meant he might’ve been part of an ability-user unit too.

In this post-apocalyptic world, the survivors were divided into three groups:
ability-users, ordinary humans, and non-powered military or police personnel.

The ability-users had formed their own organizations and bases — like the WK Unit — scattered all across the globe.

Ordinary humans lived in “safe zones,” protected by military and police without powers.

Those zones were relatively secure from mutants, but not from zombies, which was why most powered individuals preferred to stay in ability bases rather than safe zones.

There was another reason too.

In the early days, when the safe zones were first built, powerful individuals lived among the regular people.
But the powerless majority still controlled society and imposed moral pressure — forcing ability-users to shoulder the “duty of saving humanity.”

Eventually, that tension led to rebellion.
When even non-combat ability-users were forced to the front lines, the powered eventually broke away, forming their own factions.

Once they left, the safe zones quickly deteriorated.
A single zombie outbreak could wipe out thousands. The survivors were placed under strict control — living conditions so harsh they might as well have been in prison.

Compared to that, ability-based games were heaven.

So now, thinking it through, Guan Yi could understand the man’s logic.

That husband of hers was probably an able user too.
Since Bai He had no powers, she wouldn’t have been allowed in his base — she would’ve been sent to a safe zone instead.
But a girl like her wouldn’t have survived there long. She’d go hungry, get bullied…

So he’d kept her hidden at home, risking his life outside to bring her supplies, letting her live quietly and comfortably for nearly three years.

Until he died.

In a way, the man had been decent.