James Lon asked again, "Anyone else have objections?"

This time, nobody dared to utter a word.

James Lon nodded in satisfaction, "Alright, since everyone agrees, I'll take the role. Now, a few announcements:"

"Firstly, from now on, everything above the 28th floor is my private residence, and no one is allowed to go up there."

"Secondly, anyone who goes downstairs to weed and gathers 100 pounds of plants each day will receive some food and water from me."

With that, James Lon turned and went back upstairs.

Having these people downstairs acted as a buffer. If any creatures came up from below, they would attack the others first, giving James Lon time to react.

Additionally, by sending them to weed on the first floor, he could test the waters and see which animals were harmful to humans. More importantly, it was a way to check if the mutated frog still attacked people.

People exchanged looks of uncertainty:

"Is he serious? Why does he want the weeds gone?"

"Will he really give us food? How does he have so much?"

"That kid's a murderer; don't believe him!"

"Ha! Plenty of people have died recently; what's one more, anyway?"

"Should we...give it a try?"

"I'm not going; it's too dangerous out there. One bite from a bug, and we'd likely die!"

Some were hesitant, while others began preparing tools suitable for cutting weeds, figuring it was better than starving.

"Ha! If we don't weed, we don't eat, and we'll die anyway," Aunt Green replied stubbornly. "No! I can't go; I'm too old to work. If you have food, you must share it with me! Otherwise, I'll report you!"

Her words garnered the support of a group of elderly people.

"Yeah! Only young people can do the weeding; I can't manage."

"If there's food, why wouldn't we get some?"

"Young folks these days have no respect for their elders!"

Some kindly warned Aunt Green, "It's not like it was before; don't stir up trouble."

Aunt Green, self-righteous, said, "How am I causing trouble? I'm just asking for what I deserve!"

Neither Zhou Tianhao nor James Lon had ever struck her, giving her a misplaced sense of confidence. She was convinced James Lon wouldn't hit a senior!

A group of elderly women chimed in,

"Isn't James Lon just a convenience store clerk? Who relied on our patronage to live in the past?"

"If he wants to be the building manager, he needs our support!"

"Right! He's probably hoarding supplies from the store; that's why he has so much food. We're in a crisis—those supplies should help everyone!"

"I think we can talk to James Lon nicely. Respecting elders is a traditional virtue of our nation!"

"With all that food, he should share it with us. Doesn't he want money? We'll pay him!"

Young people felt speechless hearing the elders.

James Lon was not someone you could negotiate with, was he? The dead woman's body still lay there as proof!

Alright then. It's a fool's errand to offer advice to someone determined to die.

Let them do as they please. It might end beneficially for the rest of us.

If James Lon was willing to compromise, they would try talking to him. If not, they'd let others face the consequences—it wasn't their problem.

The deceased woman lay quietly on the ground. No relatives were there to care for her body, and soon flies began to gather.

Buzzing. Buzzing.

People expressed disgust,

"Damn! We can't leave her here!"

"Why don't you move her?"

"Why should I?"

With everyone starving, no one wanted to exert more energy than necessary, so nobody moved.

A gaunt man stared fixatedly at the corpse, his eyes gleaming with hunger. It had been two days since he'd eaten anything, and he was starving!

Oddly enough, the corpse's pale skin was stirring his appetite.

"She was beaten to death, so her body should be disease-free..." the man thought.

After contemplating, he stood,

"If we leave her here, she'll stink. I'll move her—can anyone help?"

Everyone else averted their eyes, remaining silent.

Feigning frustration, the gaunt man snapped, "Fine, I'll do it myself!"

Grumbling, he dragged the body downstairs. However, he didn't dispose of it. Instead, he dragged it back to his apartment...

When the gaunt man didn't return for a long time, people started getting suspicious. Two men glanced at each other and silently slipped downstairs.

Suddenly, Aunt Green screamed,

"Who stole my stuff? Was it you?"

"What does that have to do with me?"

"You're closest; it must be you!"

"Get lost! Damn old lady, stop causing trouble... Ah! You dare scratch me?"

Chaos erupted in the hallway.

It took over ten minutes for things to calm down.

One man sat terrified, holding his face, which Aunt Green had scratched badly.

Injuries were very serious now, posing a high risk of inflammation that could be fatal.

"Damn it! Old hag, I'll kill you!" he shouted, furious.

Others quickly held him back,

"Come on, it's enough!"

"Why fight with an old lady?"

Aunt Green, hiding behind the crowd, started cursing,

"Thief! I'm calling the police!"

The injured man seethed with hate, but he was a gentle soul, unable to retaliate.

"It's best to treat that right away; you don't want it to get infected!" someone advised.

Fearfully, the injured man begged, "Can someone help me? Is there a doctor here?"

"Wot is a traditional Chinese doctor; he might help."

Wot And lived on the 24th floor. The injured man knocked repeatedly on his door. Wot And had no intention of going out into the turmoil but finally said through the peephole,

"What do you want?"

"Doctor Wot, please help me!"

Wot And peered through the peephole at the injury. After a moment's deliberation—his heart wrenched by his medical duty—he said,

"Come in."

He cautiously opened the door, just a little, but no one dared force their way in.

Given the current circumstances, nobody wanted to offend a doctor—they never knew if they might end up sick or injured themselves.

The injured man, teary-eyed, asked, "Is there any hope for me?"

Wot And put on his glasses and examined the wound carefully, shaking his head,

"Not much chance. But let's try."

He disinfected the wound with alcohol and applied some iodine.

"If this was before, you'd need some ointment, but I don't have any now... Sigh. It's in fate's hands now."

The injured man felt crushed. Who knew a scuffle with an old lady could be so deadly?

"Please help me, Dr. Wot! Please!" he pleaded desperately.

There wasn't anything Wot And could do, despite wanting to help. Now, perhaps only James Lon had medicine, but James was hard to approach, and Wot And wouldn't risk himself for a stranger.

Hesitating, Wot And offered a box of pine needles,

"I just picked these from the pine trees downstairs. In traditional Chinese medicine, pine needles can treat wounds, but I don't know if they'll work with the altered trees. Do you want to try?"

The injured man gritted his teeth, "Yes!"

Wot And nodded, "I'll give it a shot."

He shredded the pine needles, applying them over the wound.

It was all up to fate now.

...

At home, James Lon observed everything clearly with his senses, intrigued: "Interesting."

Considering the potential usefulness of traditional medicine to him, James Lon was prompted to sink through the floor below.