"Sell her to the next village. Let her marry that fool from the Wang family!"

"Fifty yuan in bride price, and that’ll be just enough to get Vincent Harrison a wife!"

Those sharp, nasty words bored straight into Katherine Rivers’s ears, mixed with the crackle of burning firewood, needling their way into her skull bit by bit.

Her whole body felt like it had come apart. Every joint, every bone, hurt.

The back of her head was the worst of it, throbbing in waves, like her skull might split open any second.

She forced her heavy eyelids up, trying to open her eyes.

The first thing she saw was a shabby yellowed ceiling, patched with old newspaper, with spiderwebs hanging from the corners.

Her nose filled with the stink of mildew and the choking reek of woodsmoke.

Where was this place?

Then, all at once, a flood of jumbled memories shoved into her mind, all belonging to another girl named "Katherine Rivers"—a short life, and a bitter one.

The girl had been a sent-down educated youth. Her parents died young, and she was raised by her uncle.

Three years ago, she married a soldier named Victor Harrison.

But they never got their marriage certificate. She had barely even seen clearly what her husband looked like before the man returned to the army.

Half a month ago, someone from the army suddenly came with a letter saying Victor Harrison had "died a glorious death" while carrying out a mission.

The original Katherine cried till she was half dead with grief, but her in-laws—the Harrison family—finally showed their true faces.

They snatched away every cent of the compensation from the army, and now they even wanted to sell off this newly widowed daughter-in-law for cash, so they could get Vincent Harrison a wife.

And right now, the ones pinning her to the ground and beating her with fists and kicks were her mother-in-law Rosa Harrison and that brother-in-law Vincent Harrison.

As all those memories poured in at once, Katherine Rivers’s eyes changed.

A second ago, they still held the original girl’s fear and panic. Now they had gone cold, steady, and sharp.

She remembered.

She was Katherine Rivers, but not the Katherine Rivers of this time.

She had come out of the apocalypse, the top commander of the last armed human base.

Back then, to cover the last group of civilians retreating into the underground city, she had blown up every energy core in the base and gone down with thousands upon thousands of zombies.

She never expected she would still be alive. And not only alive, but dropped into the year 1975, a time that was peaceful, yet poor to the bone.

"You little bitch, and you still dare glare at me like that?"

The moment Vincent Harrison saw her come to, he didn’t pull back in the slightest. Instead, he bared a mouthful of yellow teeth and got even bolder with his hands.

"My brother’s dead, so you belong to me now! Once I bring a wife into the house, I’ll make damn sure you learn what a woman’s life is really like!"

Those filthy words drilled straight into her ears.

Beside them, Rosa Harrison was pinning Katherine Rivers’s legs down with all her weight, still cursing nonstop as she did.

"What are you wasting words with her for? Tie her up tight, now. Tomorrow the Wang fool’s family is coming to take her away!"

"Useless, barren trash, and a jinx on top of that. You got my eldest son killed, and now you still think you can stay in this house?"

Katherine Rivers could feel the weight crushing down on her body, and Vincent Harrison’s hand groping all over her.

She didn’t scream. She didn’t fight back right away either.

But the instant his hand was about to reach her chest, she moved.

Her movement wasn’t fast. In fact, with how weak and worn-out this body was, it looked almost slow.

But every move landed with frightening precision.

She ignored Rosa Harrison, who was pressing on her legs. Instead, with a sharp turn of her wrist and a wickedly tricky angle, she snatched up an enamel mug lying beside her.

It was an old mug, the kind with faded red words on it reading "Serve the People," with chipped enamel around the rim.

Before Vincent Harrison and Rosa Harrison could even react, Katherine Rivers clenched the mug, gathered every last bit of strength in her body, and smashed it hard at Vincent Harrison’s temple.

Without a second of hesitation.

A dull thud cracked through the room.

Vincent Harrison’s shouting cut off on the spot.

He didn’t even get time to let out a scream. His eyes rolled back, and he dropped in a limp heap to the floor. At once, a line of blood ran from the corner of his forehead.

Rosa Harrison froze.

She stared at her son lying there without moving, then looked at Katherine Rivers, who was gripping a bloodstained enamel mug, her eyes so cold they made the heart shiver.

She stood there blank for a full three seconds before a shrill scream burst out of her throat. "Murder! She’s killing people! Katherine Rivers is killing people!"

Katherine Rivers couldn’t be bothered with her wailing.

She pressed both hands to the ground and slowly pushed herself up, unsteady on her feet.

This body was just too weak. That one hit alone had nearly drained every bit of strength she had.

She lifted her eyes and looked around.

This was the kind of mud-brick farmhouse common in the countryside in the seventies—small, dark, and poor as dirt.

In the whole room, there was only one broken table missing a leg and two old wooden stools.

Her gaze slowly shifted toward the chopping board by the stove.

A kitchen knife was stuck in it.

Even in the dim room, the blade gave off a faint, chilly gleam.

Katherine Rivers raised her leg and walked that way.

She didn’t rush. She moved at an even pace, but every step felt like it was landing right on Rosa Harrison’s chest.

Rosa Harrison stopped crying. Scrambling and crawling, she threw herself beside her son and hurried to check Vincent Harrison’s breathing.

He was still breathing.

Only then did she relax a little, but right after that, her anger shot straight up.

"You little bitch! You actually dared hit Vincent! I’ll beat you to death today, you jinx!"

She hauled herself up from the floor and lunged at Katherine Rivers, all claws and rage.

But halfway there, she froze stiff.

Because Katherine had already stepped over to the stove and pulled out the kitchen cleaver.

She didn’t even spare Rosa Harrison a glance.

She just lifted the cleaver and brought it down hard on the battered wooden table.

Crack!

The sound landed heavy and dull.

The thick tabletop split open with a deep, wide gash. The blade sank in a good inch deep, buried solid in the wood, the whole knife still buzzing from the force.

The whole room went dead quiet in an instant.

The only thing left was Rosa Harrison’s rough, panicked breathing.

Katherine slowly pulled the cleaver back out. Wood chips still clung to the edge.

Only then did she turn her head and look straight at Rosa Harrison, whose face had gone pale with fright.

In a voice so calm it made the skin crawl, she spoke her first words since coming to this world.

"Leave the money. Then get out."

She paused, eyes cold as iron.

"Or next time, I chop a neck."

Rosa Harrison’s legs gave out on the spot, and she dropped flat to the floor.

She stared at Katherine standing there, like she was looking at some filthy ghost or evil thing.

Was this really the same daughter-in-law as before, the one they could hit and curse all day, the one who never dared talk back?

Rosa Harrison scrambled forward on hands and feet, grabbed the still-unconscious Vincent Harrison, and dragged him up in a panic, stumbling as she fled outside.

At last, the room fell quiet.

Katherine Rivers loosened her grip on the kitchen cleaver, and at once a hard wave of dizziness crashed over her head.

She hurriedly braced herself against the edge of the table, nearly losing her footing.

This body was just too weak. She had been half-starved for who knew how long, and after that beating, plus the burst of ruthless force she had just used, she was about done in.

She needed food, fast.

But right then, she suddenly felt something was off.

The feeling was strangely familiar, like something had linked itself to her mind.

Katherine closed her eyes and followed that faint pull with her consciousness.

The next second, a place she knew better than anything else appeared in her head.

It was a warehouse so huge it could make a person’s scalp go numb.

Inside, rows upon rows of metal shelves stood in neat order, everything sorted and stacked properly.

On those shelves were all kinds of weapons, from the most advanced electromagnetic guns, to old-style AKs, to long-range sniper rifles that could hit from absurd distances.

Off to one side, military supplies were piled up like a hill.

Individual rations, compressed biscuits, energy drinks, medical supplies...

This was her personal storage.

The mobile base she had spent a full ten years building in the apocalypse, gathering top-grade weapons and supplies from all over the world.

She had never expected this thing to come with her too.

Katherine let her awareness sweep once around the space. In the end, her gaze stopped on a stack of neatly arranged cans.

Silver tins, with mouthwatering pictures printed on the outside.

Luncheon meat.

Back in the apocalypse, that stuff had been harder to get than gold. It counted as the finest of fine goods.

Katherine Rivers swallowed hard.

Right now, what she needed most was food—something to get her strength back. The thought had barely crossed her mind when a cold can of luncheon meat dropped straight into her hand out of nowhere.

She was just about to use the kitchen cleaver to pry the lid open when a mess of hurried footsteps and loud cursing suddenly broke out beyond the yard gate.

"Katherine Rivers! Open this door!"

"You’ve got some nerve, hitting people in broad daylight! You think there’s no justice around here?"

It was the village Party secretary shouting.

Behind him were several militia men, each holding a hoe handle or a stick.

Plain as day—Rosa Harrison had run off to complain.

Katherine held the can and didn’t panic in the slightest. Instead, she slowly ran her tongue over her dry lips.

She stared toward the gate, something unreadable flickering in her eyes.

Good timing.

She had just been worrying about how to get out of here and make her way to the army unit to ask what had really happened to that so-called "dead" husband of hers.

And now? Someone had delivered themselves right to her door.

The yard gate was kicked open with a bang.

The village secretary charged in with the others. One look at the room in complete disorder, then another at the cleaver in Katherine’s hand—the can had already been tucked back away—and he became even more convinced she was the one who had done it.

"Katherine Rivers! You’re still holding a knife! Come with us to the commune right now and let the people judge what’s right and wrong!"

Katherine slapped the cleaver onto the table with a loud clang.

Then she lifted her face, looked at the secretary standing there all righteous and stern, and suddenly smiled.

"Go to the commune? No."

"I’m going to the army. I want to find the leader of that man you all say is 'dead' and get a clear answer face to face."

"Which one of you knows the road?"