Global Mutations:I Built a Safe House

Chapter 7 Bringing the Cub Home

Luo Qingtian barely had time to savor her victory when the larger white tiger, maddened by pain and rage, charged at her again. She didn’t hesitate—turning on her heel, she sprinted toward Monkey Hill, its steep, rocky slopes slowing the beast’s pursuit. If she could reach higher ground, she’d gain the advantage.

Her legs pumped furiously, pushing her body to its limits. But despite its wounds, the male tiger kept pace. Before she could scale the first outcropping, the beast sprang ahead of her path, snarling with fangs bared.

Panic flashed in her chest as she prepared to vanish into her vault—then a second white shape burst from the underbrush. It was the smaller tigress, her mate: battered and scarred, her belly swollen with unborn cubs. Without pause, she tackled the male, teeth and claws lashing in desperate defense.

Luo Qingtian had only one shot. Drawing her bow, she loosed three arrows. Each found its mark in the male’s flank. He roared, his grip on the tigress faltering; abandoning her, he lunged for Luo Qingtian.

She leapt onto a stone terrace to evade him, and fired three more arrows—this volley struck home, one clinching in his eye. The tiger toppled over the ledge in a guttural howl.

Below, the tigress staggered to her feet and hurled herself onto her fallen mate, tearing at his throat. The blind male thrashed wildly, attacking anything that moved.

Luo Qingtian dropped the bow and drew her Tang knife. She slipped past the writhing forms and slashed savagely at the male’s nape. He yelped and flung her aside with a swiping tail, ripping fur from her shoulder—then collapsed in a crimson heap.

Silence fell—broken only by the tigress’s labored breathing. Luo Qingtian crept forward. The mother’s pulse was faint but steady. Gently, Luo Qingtian cut a small roast of fresh muscle from the male’s carcass and held it to the tigress’s snout. She nudged it aside, her eyes fixed on her swollen belly.

The hunter’s empathy—part of her “Psychic Sense”—flared to life. The tigress was asking her to save the cub within.

Luo Qingtian knelt, steeled herself, and slid the knife along the tigress’s torn side. The tiny cub emerged, slick and wrinkled, its eyes still closed. She lifted him into her arms and placed him before his mother. The tigress licked him clean, then nudged him toward Luo Qingtian, as if entrusting him to her care.

“Take him,” the mother seemed to say.

Luo Qingtian bowed her head. “I will,” she promised softly.

Moments later, the tigress exhaled her last breath. Luo Qingtian wrapped the cub gently in her jacket and carried him toward the vault, honoring the mother’s sacrifice—and forging a new bond that would echo through the apocalyptic world to come.

For the tigress, it had been a desperate gamble: kill her mate and escape with her cub—or die alongside him. She had chosen correctly. Now her cub was safe in Luo Qingtian’s care.

Luo Qingtian carried the cub into her hidden vault and laid down a soft bed. She tossed the male tiger’s carcass into a dark corner of the space, then returned outside to bury the tigress near Monkey Hill—digging a deep grave under moonlit pines. With that final kindness done, she picked up the cub and slipped through the zoo’s broken wall onto the deserted highway.

With the cub cradled in her arms, she drove for an hour through pockets of zombies drawn by the young tiger’s scent. Each time she saw movement in her mirrors, she cranked the wheel and barreled through, scattering shamblers like rag dolls. At last, she returned to her apartment complex.

Night had fallen, and the grounds were deathly silent—almost every window dark, a few zombies shuffling between buildings. She drove toward the underground garage but found the entrance blocked by debris. With a resigned sigh, she summoned her van and cub back into her vault and continued on foot.

The main gate stood open—guards must have fled when the outbreak occurred. Luo Qingtian slipped in and sprinted to her building. A pack of zombies noticed her, but she slammed her door shut behind her and the hallway lights flickered on at her voice-activated entry.

Zombies detested light; dozens pounded on the door. She knew it wouldn’t hold long, so she yanked it open and raced up the stairwell. Her bow was already in hand. On the third floor, she paused, loosed three arrows, and watched seven walkers collapse.

She kept climbing—fourth floor, fifth—each stop buying precious seconds as she emptied her quiver until not a single pursuer remained. At the top, she slammed the door shut, holstered her arrows, and raced into her apartment.

Flicking off her blood-stained clothes, she tossed them into the fireplace. A hot shower washed away the grime and adrenaline. When she emerged, her phone buzzed with messages in the complex’s group chat:

Resident A: “Someone made it back alive—just saw them drag a pack of zombies into the lobby!”Resident B: “I heard them, too—now it’s quiet. Maybe the zombies lost the scent?”Resident C: “Why hasn’t rescue come? Our food supplies are gone!”

Luo Qingtian scrolled without replying. She selected a few emergency rations from her vault, ate quickly, then remembered the cub sleeping in his soft nest.

She pulled on pajamas and slipped into the vault. The cub dozed fitfully, tiny paws twitching and letting out muffled squeaks. Luo Qingtian had stocked infant formula during her Walmart run—she mixed a bottle, tested the temperature, and offered it to the cub.

The moment the n****e touched his lips, he quieted and began suckling eagerly. She stayed until half the bottle was gone, then replaced the cub gently in his nest and returned to her bed.

When she woke late the next morning, golden light streamed through her curtains. She dashed to the vault—the cub was awake, wriggling and calling softly. Another bottle, and he settled down against his blanket.

Back in her apartment, she grabbed a few fresh “shengjian” buns and a soy milk, then reopened her phone’s group chat.

Resident D: “Has anyone else noticed fewer zombies around?”Resident E: “Yes—only three or four on my way down this morning!”Resident F: “Maybe they’re all in Building 2? Someone saw them herding zombies there last night.”Resident G: “I live in 2—and the stairwell was littered with dead walkers!”

A wave of stunned messages followed.

Resident H: “Could it be the person from last night cleared them out?”Resident I: “If so, we’re safe! Does anyone have spare rice? I’ll pay ten thousand credits per bag.”Resident J: “Are you kidding? Money won’t help. Better to grab what you can and head out yourself.”

As the neighbors debated, Luo Qingtian set her phone aside. She finished her breakfast and headed to the locked gym in her vault.

Every stretch and rep was razor-focused. She pushed her body past its limits again and again—knowing that if she was strong enough to face mutated apex predators and armies of zombies, she could protect her unexpected little family.

Outside, September’s heat remained relentless. The world had not cooled with autumn; the storms of acid rain still hung in the air. But inside her fortified sanctuary—with her cub by her side—Luo Qingtian felt ready for whatever came next.