Reborn As A Doomsday Villainess-Chapter 175: You gave him up willingly

Feng Yizhou closed his eyes for a moment, imagining the faces of the people depending on him.

He had to act and his choice was clear.

"I accept," he said, resolve hardening in his voice. "Get me those buses."

{Accepted. The buses have arrived.}

Feng Yizhou’s eyes snapped open just in time to see the two Yutang buses materialize on the side of the road, a perfect fit for the urgent task ahead.

They were already there, as if summoned by his command.

The system’s abilities never ceased to amaze him, even in moments like this when the world was teetering on the edge of chaos.

Without missing a beat, Feng Yizhou turned to Sun Zi Mo, who had been standing nearby, watching the exchange. "Get the people ready. The buses are here."

Sun Zi Mo blinked in surprise, but quickly nodded. "Understood."

Everyone had heard it. There was no one who didn’t here the apocalypse system objective.

A space was created for the first bus to park and that was when Feng Yizhou came to accept the people.

"You all heard it. And I have good news and bad news. We have 2 buses were that will ferry only 150 people that is including my team. So only 140 fortunate few from the crowd will get on this bus."

Chaos erupted as soon as Feng Yizhou’s decision was announced.

The crowd, already tense and anxious, now seemed to explode in every direction.

Shouting, crying, and the sound of frantic movement filled the air.

"You can’t just leave us here to die!" one woman screamed, her voice cracking with desperation.

"Who do you think you are, deciding who lives and who dies?!" another man shouted, his face contorted with anger.

Feng Yizhou stood there, his hands clenched into fists, trying to hold his ground against the tide of human emotion.

But the crowd wasn’t done. The more they yelled, the more the air seemed to thicken with fear and resentment.

"Is this really what you call leadership? You’re just going to take your people and leave us behind?"someone else shouted from the back.

"My kids! You can’t leave my kids! We deserve to live, too!" a woman wailed, clutching her small child in her arms.

"Please... help us... we’ll do anything..." someone whispered, but it was lost in the noise of the growing mob.

Feng Yizhou’s eyes hardened as the voices rose, swirling around him like a storm.

He could feel the pressure mounting, and for a brief moment, doubt gnawed at the edges of his resolve.

But he couldn’t afford to waver, not now, not when everything hinged on this decision.

The murmurs turned into full-on demands. Some people were calling for mercy, others were trying to push their way to the front, desperate to secure a spot on the buses.

"You don’t care about any of us!" one man spat, his face twisted in fury. "You think you’re some hero, but you’re just like the rest of them! Leaving us behind, to die!"

Feng Yizhou’s gaze turned cold as he faced the crowd, his voice booming, sharp and cutting through the noise.

"I am no one’s savior!" he said, his voice was harsh but steady. "Neither did I tell you I cared about your life." His eyes swept across the sea of faces, the desperation and anger in their eyes. "Only 150 people will enter these buses. Once they’re full... that’s it."

The crowd went silent for a brief moment, stunned into disbelief. Feng Yizhou’s words rang out, they were unapologetic and final. He stood tall, unflinching under the weight of their gazes.

"Let me make this clear," he continued, his voice calm but firm. "I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for any of you to depend on me. But now that I’m here, I’ll do what I can to make sure as many of you survive as possible." His eyes narrowed. "But that doesn’t mean I’m going to waste any more time."

A tense silence filled the air. Then, the murmurs started again, quieter this time but no less intense.

"This isn’t fair!" a voice called out, trembling with emotion. "How do you choose? Why do you get to decide?"

"Because I’m the one who has the power to do something about it!" Feng Yizhou snapped, his patience wearing thin. "And believe me, I would do things differently if I could, but I don’t have the luxury of time or options."

The crowd seemed to seethe, but there was a change in the air. Whether it was fear or realization, it was clear that some of them were beginning to understand the gravity of the situation.

"Listen up!" Sun Zi Mo’s voice cut through the murmurs, stepping forward to regain some semblance of order. "Feng Yizhou isn’t the enemy here! There’s no time for a fight. Either you’re lucky to get on this bus or you’re unfortunate to stay behind. There’s no middle ground."

But the crowd was still restless, some of them throwing angry glances at Feng Yizhou, others too afraid to even move forward.

"I can’t save everyone," Feng Yizhou said coldly, his gaze flickering over them. "You all know that. The buses here can only hold 150 people. The choice is yours now. Get strive to get on or don’t. But there’s no second chance."

A few people began pushing forward, some grabbing their children or loved ones, while others lingered in place, frozen by the uncertainty of their fate.

It was a race against time, and the silence that followed his declaration was heavy with the weight of the decisions being made in the blink of an eye.

"We’ll begin. I’ll start counting until the first bus is filled. Note you cannot push yourself inside, I have to take your number before you enter."

Placing his arm to block the door, Sun Zi Mo’s voice rang out loud.

"Number 1."

A young woman with a backpack clutched tightly to her chest stumbled forward, eyes wide with disbelief. She stepped up, and Sun Zi Mo nodded once, allowing her through.

"Number 2," he announced.

A man in his forties followed, guiding his elderly mother by the elbow. They moved quickly, not daring to look back.

"Number 3. Number 4."

People surged forward, but not all dared to push. The counting created a sense of order—a bitter, cold sort of hope. The moment they heard the number, they lunged toward the bus, trying not to draw too much attention.

Feng Yizhou stood to the side, silent but imposing. His presence alone kept the majority from descending into chaos again. His eyes scanned the crowd. He wasn’t choosing. He wasn’t interfering. He had made it clear—he wouldn’t play god.

"Number 5."

"Number 6. 7. 8."

A small girl clung to her teenage brother’s hand. They flinched every time someone brushed past them, but when their number was called, the boy guided her firmly, shoulders squared despite his trembling frame.

"9. 10."

They filed in one by one, not based on favoritism or bribes or pleading. Just raw, desperate timing.

"11. 12. 13..."

Each number was a gunshot in the hearts of those who hadn’t moved fast enough. People cried silently as the count continued, some whispering prayers, others cursing their hesitation.

A man tried to duck under Sun Zi Mo’s arm.

"Back!" Sun Zi Mo barked. "You wait for your number. If you try that again, you’re out."

Feng Yizhou didn’t speak, but his expression made it clear he wouldn’t intervene if the man was thrown out entirely.

Order was brittle, but it held.

"14. 15. 16."

The first bus was filling fast. Every person who boarded left behind the screaming weight of the others’ stares.

Some people wept in relief as they passed. Others couldn’t meet Feng Yizhou’s eyes.

They didn’t thank him. Not really. What was there to thank?

"17. 18. 19. 20."

A woman knelt, sobbing, clutching her child. But the child was already onboard—the woman had pushed him forward earlier, hoping he’d be taken. Now she begged silently to be called too.

"21."

Sun Zi Mo didn’t hesitate. Another person climbed aboard.

"22. 23. 24."

Someone called out, "Please, just let the kids go first!"

Feng Yizhou didn’t respond. He wasn’t here to offer commentary.

"25. 26. 27."

Children, the elderly, the strong, the weak—none of it mattered anymore. All that mattered was the order in which they moved.

"28. 29. 30."

At the back, a scuffle broke out. A man shoved someone aside, trying to race forward. It was caught instantly.

Sun Zi Mo stepped off the steps, cracking his knuckles. "Try that again," he growled, "and you won’t get on either bus."

The man slunk back, breathing hard. A moment later, he was swallowed up by the crowd.

"31. 32."

Still they came. Step by step, heart by heart.

The line seemed endless, but the numbers kept ticking upward, each one a blow to those still waiting.

"33. 34. 35."

The woman whose child had boarded earlier finally broke. She lunged forward without warning.

Sun Zi Mo intercepted her mid-step. "Not your turn."

"My son is in there! You took my son!" she screamed, hysterical.

"You gave him up willingly," Feng Yizhou finally said, voice cold. "You made your choice."

She froze, as if slapped. Her knees buckled. No one moved to help her.

"36. 37. 38."