TFRLTOP Chapter 74 Part 2

No — that didn’t erase the fact he’d taken advantage of an underage girl! That made him a monster!

The system was speechless.
Ming Ming’s nonsense had somehow turned into a perfectly logical backstory in Guan Yi’s head.

“Six out of ten for that improv,” the system muttered. “Next time, say less. You got lucky this round.”

Ming Ming peeked up at Guan Yi, who was still deep in thought, and nearly cried again.
Please, big guy, stop analyzing this! I won’t be able to fix it if you keep thinking!

She twisted her fingers nervously, whispering, “So… does that mean I can’t stay here anymore?”

Guan Yi glared at her, mentally cursing.

He couldn’t send her away.

Someone like her — soft, naive, defenseless — she’d be eaten alive in a safe zone.

But he wasn’t going to tell her that.
Not yet.

He’d let her stew for a while.

What, did she think he’d roll over and take it?

“Go back to your quarters,” he said coldly.

Then he turned and left.

To the onlookers, it looked like their captain had ruthlessly scolded the fragile widow, who stood there with tearful eyes as she watched him walk away — filled with unspoken emotion.

Oh no, the eavesdroppers thought—another doomed ship to sail.

Ming Ming, on the other hand, was despondent.
He’s really going to send me away. Why am I so unlucky? Should’ve just kept my mouth shut… Better stock up on supplies while I still can.

Since Guan Yi had decided to let her sweat it out, he didn’t hold back.
He immediately assigned himself to a long-distance field mission, leaving Ming Ming to stew alone in the base for half a month — no chance of seeing him at all.

His team members, dragged along for the mission, were miserable.

“Damn it,” one muttered. “A heartbroken man is terrifying.”

But the worst part came later.

Even though fighting mutants was always risky — often life or death — this time was different.

Guan Yi wasn’t just fighting. He was venting.

Every battle, he cut through mutants with precise, brutal efficiency — even drawing it out, as if savoring the destruction.

When they encountered a giant moth the size of a helicopter, no one knew what set him off — but the moment he saw it, his face darkened.
And before anyone could blink, he brought the thing crashing down in a single blow.

There were both fire- and lightning-type ability users in the team, and they had originally wanted to put the mutant moth out of its misery quickly.
But Guan Yi refused.

In one sharp motion, thick, powerful tentacles burst out from his body and wrapped tightly around the creature.

Guan Yi’s ability — those tentacles — could be both hard and soft, and were incredibly strong. When soft, they felt like rubber, elastic enough to bungee jump off a rooftop with. When hardened, they were tougher than steel, able to punch holes straight through concrete.
Rumor had it that when the base was first being built, Guan Yi’s tentacles were used to drill the foundation holes.

Though no one could confirm that story.

Right now, Guan Yi clearly had no intention of giving the mutant moth a quick death. He wound his tentacles around its body, immobilizing it, then used two more to tear off its wings — and one by one, ripped off its legs.

The men watching could only think: What the hell… that’s brutal.

The tentacles coiled tighter and tighter.

Nearby, the team members trembled. For the first time, they swore they saw fear and pain on an insect’s face.

The damn thing looked like it was about to burst.

Heartbroken men are terrifying!

After the first couple of times, though, the others grew numb.

It was the first mission where there was no teamwork, no tactical formation — they’d all accepted that this entire operation was just “the captain’s solo battle.”

Fine by them. It meant they didn’t have to think — like taking a vacation in the apocalypse.

But Guan Yi wasn’t nearly as relaxed.

No matter how far they traveled, he couldn’t clear his mind. Whenever he tried to calm down, the image of Ming Ming’s pitiful little face appeared — how she followed him step by step, afraid he’d leave her behind.

Every time he saw her, she looked so helpless. He hadn’t even seen her smile once.

Who could have the heart to abandon a girl like that?

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, that dead man — the one he’d never met—had taken good care of Bai He. Three years into the apocalypse, after everything people had done without law or restraint, it was rare to find someone still so innocent.

Guan Yi felt a bitter ache.
That man must have truly loved her.
And she… must have loved him deeply too.

Was that man really so much like him?
When she looked at him that day, was she actually thinking of her dead husband?

Bullshit.
What “lookalike”? He was himself, not some replacement.

That bastard didn’t love her — what kind of love leaves a woman completely defenseless? Did he ever stop to think what would happen to her if something happened to him? Keeping her sheltered like a caged bird — that wasn’t love. That was setting her up for tragedy.

If it were him…
He’d make sure he never died before her.

That thought hit hard. Guan Yi suddenly found himself desperate to go back.

Was she eating well while he was gone? Sleeping okay? Getting along with the others? Were the supplies fair?

Did she… think about him at all?
Or was she still thinking about that man?

Damn it!

The more he thought, the faster he wanted to return. He needed to know — while she ate his food, slept under his roof, exactly which man was in her thoughts.

Under the team’s tired cheers of “Captain, we did it!” they finally started heading home.

Back at the base, Guan Yi didn’t go straight to see Ming Ming. He stopped by An Ning’s lab first.

“Well, look who’s back — Captain Guan himself!” An Ning greeted cheerfully, grabbing a drink from the mini-fridge and tossing it to him.

Guan Yi caught it. “What’s this?”

“Something I brewed up during my break — low alcohol, orange flavor.”

He twisted it open, took a sip, and frowned. “Too sweet.” He set it aside. “If you’ve got time to experiment with drinks, that must mean your research is making progress?”

An Ning smiled smoothly. “Still needs a little time.”

He stared at her blankly.

She raised her hands in surrender. “Hey, you’re the one who said not to report to you until I had solid results.”

Then, with a sly grin, she added, “But my sixth sense tells me you came here for something else. Need some emotional counseling, Captain? I can offer free sessions.”

Guan Yi shot her a cold look. Seeing her gossipy expression, he decided to just drop it.

“Nothing important. I’m heading back.”

“Ugh, classic uptight straight man,” she muttered, leaning on her desk. “Oh, right — people have been saying things keep going missing around the base lately. Not sure what’s up.”

Guan Yi’s expression hardened. “Someone stealing?”

An Ning shrugged. “Maybe, but it’s nothing major — just random stuff. Old canned food, stale rations, empty boxes, newspapers… oh, and An Yue said even the sanitary pads are disappearing.”

Guan Yi frowned. “Got it. I’ll handle it.”

He turned to leave, then paused, doubled back, and opened the fridge again.
An Ning blinked as he took two bottles of that orange drink before closing it.

“You didn’t even like it,” she said.

Without turning around, Guan Yi waved a hand. “They’re for the kid back home — let her try it.”