Zhenlan moved to stand beside Yuche without a word.
He didn't rush. He didn't interrupt what the other man was doing. He simply closed the distance with the same quiet control he forced himself to maintain since the beginning.
He stopped just close enough to see over the edge without exposing himself unnecessarily. His gaze swept once across the wall, taking in the movement, the density, the sheer number of bodies still climbing despite everything Yuche had already done.
Yuche didn't look at him as he lined up another shot and took it.
Another zombie dropped.
He adjusted, fired again, and another followed, his movements still precise but no longer effortless. The rhythm that had felt natural minutes ago was beginning to strain, the timing slipping just slightly as his breathing grew heavier.
Zhenlan's eyes shifted, not to the wall—but to Yuche.
It was subtle at first.
The change in posture.
The slight instability in his stance.
