115: Chapter 115 Those who are destined to die will die sooner or later, those who are destined to go mad will go mad sooner or later.

The man surnamed Han glanced at Chen Jian, then looked at Su Qingxue.

"Someone like President Su should still be pure and undefiled, and her meat must be of good quality. If she's defiled by you, how can the rest of us eat?"

The rock crevice fell silent for half a beat.

This remark was too blunt, making everyone who heard it feel terrified.

Su Qingxue's pupils shrank violently.

She looked at the person who said those words and saw a face distorted by hunger and despair.

It was not a joke, nor was it a venting of emotions; in those eyes, a genuine calculation was taking place.

Calculating which part of her body had the most meat.

"You're all mad!" Su Qingxue lost her composure in the rock crevice for the first time. "You're human! You can't..."

"Human?" Xiao Liang slammed her against the rock wall, causing the back of Su Qingxue's head to strike the stone, and stars danced before her eyes.

"Miss Su, we are no longer human. There are no humans on this damned island."

The man surnamed Han had already begun to push forward, his eyes locked tightly onto Su Qingxue's exposed forearm, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

Several other male employees were also moving. Not everyone, but at least five or six had stood up.

Their gazes were identical to that of the man surnamed Han—the most primitive foraging instinct left behind after hunger had burned through their sanity.

They hadn't replenished any nutritious food for half a month, and they were weak to the extreme.

Su Qingxue struggled desperately, but Xiao Liang's grip was very strong, and she simply couldn't break free.

"Wang Lan!" Su Qingxue cried out toward the back. These people still listened to Wang Lan, so she could only pin her hopes on Wang Lan.

Wang Lan sat nearby, her fingers crossed and clasped over her knees, remaining silent as she weighed the pros and cons.

If Su Qingxue died, what impact would it have on her?

If there really was rescue in the future—though the probability was extremely low—Su Qingxue staying alive would be beneficial to everyone.

Because upon returning to civilized society, she would still be that high-and-mighty President Su.

Everyone here, including her, Wang Lan, would have to curry favor with her.

Even speaking up for her now would become a bargaining chip bestowed by Su Qingxue upon returning to civilized society.

But they might never truly return; in other words, Su Qingxue's future value was virtually zero.

Look at the current situation again.

Xiao Liang's gang was completely out of control. Ever since the day they crushed the female executive to death, Xiao Liang had been acting a bit unhinged.

Now, having learned that there was no hope of rescue, the psychological state of this group had plummeted past the bottom line of human society.

Even if she wanted to stop them.

Could she stop them?

Xiao Liang had a stone in his hand, the eyes of that man surnamed Han were glowing green, and five or six people had stood up.

As long as she spoke up, Xiao Liang would vent his anger on her, and the next person pinned to the ground would be her, Wang Lan.

Help Su Qingxue? The cost was too high, and the return was zero.

Not help? Once Xiao Liang's gang finished venting, their emotions would stabilize in the short term. Because she spoke this cruel truth, the other people would have to rely on her to survive, making her safer.

Xiao Liang slammed Su Qingxue onto the ground.

Su Qingxue's back slapped solidly against the gravel, the pain making her vision go black.

Before she could turn over, a foot stepped on her shoulder, pinning her in place.

The man surnamed Han squatted down.

His hand reached toward Su Qingxue's forearm, pinching the thickness of the muscle and weighing the content of the subcutaneous fat.

Just like a butcher in a vegetable market selecting raw cuts of meat.

"Don't rush." Xiao Liang looked at the man surnamed Han. "It's hard to handle her alive; knock her out first and then take your time."

Lin Fan stood at the edge of the platform, looking down.

The angle wasn't very good, but it was enough.

The commotion made by that group of people inside the rock crevice couldn't even be drowned out by the waves.

Xiao Liang pinned Su Qingxue to the ground, and the man surnamed Han squatted beside her, pinching her arm as if picking and choosing the fat and lean parts.

The other few male employees who had stood up didn't make a move, but not a single one spoke up to stop them.

Interesting.

After twenty-some days back and forth, this group of people had finally evolved into the ultimate form of the food chain.

Lin Fan withdrew his gaze. To be honest, he felt no emotional fluctuation in his heart.

Those who were destined to die would die sooner or later, and those who were destined to go mad would go mad sooner or later.

That rock crevice below was a slow cooker; hunger was the firewood, and fear was the seasoning. Given enough time, any bottom line of human nature could be boiled to pieces.

He had even thought of this step in advance, just didn't expect it to come so fast; he had thought they could hold out for at least another half a month or so.

Back when he worked at Shengtang, working overtime until eleven or twelve o'clock, so sleepy he could barely keep his eyes open, he would sit at his workstation waiting for the printer to spit out documents.

When bored, he would open his phone, casually click into some entertainment news, and the whole screen would be filled with celebrity gossip and the private lives of rich second-generation heirs.

Once, while scrolling through an exclusive interview with Su Qingxue, he saw a magazine cover photo of her wearing a customized white suit, sitting in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows on the top floor of Shengtang's headquarters building, with the city's entire skyline outside the window.

The title read: "Post-90s Female Leader: I Want Shengtang to Become a Century-Old Enterprise."

That face was indeed good-looking.

The jawline was clean, the brow ridges high, the bridge of the nose straight, and the lips thin yet well-defined. Paired with a women's customized suit, it wasn't that influencer-style refinement, but rather an aggressive kind of beauty, like a Greek sculpture in a museum—pleasing to the eye to look at, but you wouldn't dare think of reaching out to touch it.

At the time, he glanced at it twice, and a thought flashed through his mind: she really looks very nice.

Then the printer finished spitting out the documents, he turned off his phone, carried the bid proposal of more than two hundred pages to the conference room, and the name Su Qingxue was cleared from his mind.

An intern didn't even have the qualification to press the elevator button for the floor of Su Qingxue's office; what was he even thinking?

And now look at this.

That high-and-mighty face on the magazine cover was being pinned to the ground twenty meters below by a group of former employees driven mad by hunger, being weighed like cattle to see which piece of meat was thicker.

The phrase "the impermanence of the world", placed on this island, was interpreted to the absolute extreme.

What a pity.

What Lin Fan thought was a pity wasn't Su Qingxue as a person.

What he thought was that Su Qingxue's face and figure had indeed served as material a few times back when he was working overtime and masturbating.

Now, right before his eyes, she was about to be carved up and eaten.

Purely from an aesthetic standpoint, it was a waste.

But it stopped there.

He didn't plan to go down. Some twenty people, starved for nearly twenty days—group riots in such a state were the hardest to control.

It wasn't that he couldn't beat them; it was that there was no need to take the risk.

Waiting for them to finish thrashing about themselves, those who should die would die, and the remainder would be easier to deal with.

He stood up, preparing to return to the compartment to cook the second batch of porridge for Song Ya.

Footsteps came from behind.

Lin Fan turned back.

Song Ya supported herself against the rock wall and walked out from behind the fabric curtain of the compartment.