On the playground of District 8 Refuge, there were still unscrubbed patches of blood. Over time, they had dried into a dark crimson, mixed with zombie blood. If one didn’t look closely, scattered fragments of unknown flesh could even be seen lying around the surroundings. A strange odor permeated the air, and from time to time, black flies would land on the stains, rubbing their long pole-like front limbs and licking at the flesh fragments and blood.
The once clean and bright refuge was now shrouded in a hazy gloom. Silence blanketed this previously tranquil and peaceful sanctuary; no one strolled leisurely outside anymore. The few survivors all hid inside their rooms, having finally realized that danger to their lives could strike at any moment here. Filled with anxiety, they sat idly in their rooms, their only glimmer of hope resting on the wish that the refuge might be taken under the protection of the main base.
Doing so would mean other Espers would come to protect them, or perhaps they could be relocated to a different branch base. In any case, it would still be better than staying in a place full of vulnerabilities where zombies had once leaped in to slaughter people.
“Xiao Yao, the inspection team hasn’t left yet. Is there still hope?” Having lost quite a few people during the recent zombie breach, the survivors worried about their tomorrows. Several older middle-aged individuals asked with deep concern.
Chen Yao didn’t know how to respond. During the recent incident at the refuge, they few Espers had been fortunate enough not to be bitten by zombies. Seeing the refuge reduced to this state, they knew in their hearts that the likelihood of being incorporated into the main base was slim. However, having stayed at the refuge for some time, they still couldn’t bear to just up and leave, abandoning this group of old, weak, sick, and disabled people. Instead, they decided to stay behind temporarily to take care of everyone and soothe their anxieties.
To their surprise, the inspection team hadn’t left yet either. Although the inspection team had suffered heavy losses during this incident losing two Espers and a few non-combat data analysts they hadn’t outright dismissed the value of this refuge. They merely stated that they needed to stay here for a little longer to observe. This order had been issued by the inspection team’s director himself, who claimed that the evaluation of this refuge was not yet complete.
Without a doubt, these words served as a turning point, offering them a glimmer of hope for survival.
Yet, as the days passed, they still hadn’t caught sight of this so-called inspection team director. The man was elusive and impossible to track down. All they knew was that this director possessed formidable combat skills and held immense authority within the inspection team, able to make the team carry out his directives with just a few words. Beyond that, they knew absolutely nothing else about him.
“I suppose so… I’m not entirely sure either, but they haven’t planned on leaving just yet,” Chen Yao answered hesitantly and ambiguously.
Those few people seemed to let out a slight breath of relief. After all, given their age and physical capabilities, surviving the zombie apocalypse without protection would be harder than ascending to heaven. Now that they saw a sliver of hope, one of them glanced toward the building with the best facilities, rubbed his hands nervously, and spoke with a carefully flattering tone, “Did those people from the inspection team say they need anything? After all, Espers consume a lot of energy; do they need someone to help wait on them nearby? That way, we can also lighten their burden.”
As soon as he finished speaking, noticing the gazes of the others, he blushed and explained in a rough voice, “I’m doing this for the refuge too! Isn’t it to score a few good impression points?! What if they aren’t comfortable living here and develop a bad opinion of us? How would the inspection continue then?!”
This rationale sounded quite far-fetched, yet the others didn’t call him out on it. After a moment of silence, someone even chimed in, “That’s right. Since Old Li put it that way, let’s all think of a way to do our part. Lao Fa, didn’t you hoard some tea leaves before? Don’t keep them hidden now hurry up and send them over.”
The person whose name was called immediately protested, “When did I ever hide those things—”
“Stop lying! It’s one thing for you to stash things away normally, but now the refuge is struggling just to stay alive, and you’re still clinging to those petty items of yours. When you lose your life, will those things still be of any use?!” That person appeared to be sharp-tongued in the refuge under normal circumstances, and continued, “Let’s just do this: we’ll mobilize everyone to help out with whatever they can. If you don’t have goods, at least greet the inspection team members when you see them, and don’t talk back to them. At the very least, leave a good impression.”
Chen Yao and the others listened to this conversation in silence, largely because they didn’t know how to reply. They silently watched and listened as the refuge residents discussed how to suck up to the people who had come from the main base a group of destitute people trying to use their own insignificant trinkets to curry favor with outsiders.
After finishing their discussion, realizing that dusk was falling and night was about to descend, those people awkwardly bid farewell to Chen Yao and the group.
“We’re really sorry to have bothered you for so long. We’ll head back now too. You guys have worked hard, get some rest early.” Despite being old enough to be elders, they adopted a humble and flattering posture. While they used to conceal it more or less, this sycophancy had now become glaringly obvious.
Watching the group walk away, Chen Zhigang, who always had a fiery temper, said impatiently, “If you ask me, Chen Yao, you’re just being a fussbudget, listening to them talk nonsense here.”
Lu Zhiyuan stood by in silence, but his expression agreed that the behavior of those people just now was utterly ridiculous.
Chen Yao sighed and said, “What other choice is there? The few of us are Espers, so it’s fine we ultimately have a way out. But these people…” Sorrow washed over her beautiful face as she added, “If only Shouchan were here. With his abilities, the refuge definitely would have”
“Chen Yao!” Chen Zhigang interrupted her, casting a glance at Lu Zhiyuan. Lu Zhiyuan’s expression didn’t look good either. Realizing belatedly that she had said the wrong thing, Chen Yao lowered her head.
Lu Zhiyuan said, “What use is it for you to keep talking about him? It’s not like we didn’t go look for him. Did you see him pay any attention to you? Haven’t you seen his attitude clearly by now?”
Driven by some selfish personal feelings, Chen Yao couldn’t help pushing back, “But Shouchan wasn’t like this before! He clearly used to be”
“That’s because Huaisi was still around!”
That single sentence silenced them all, bringing unbidden to their minds the scene where Huaisi had resolutely severed his throat after being bitten. They knew Huaisi had chosen to end his life because he didn’t want them to bear the emotional burden of having to kill their own companion with their own hands. Yet, watching a former comrade commit suicide right before their eyes felt like a thorn deeply embedded in their hearts.
Sometimes everyone avoided bringing it up, but that thorn remained right there, periodically sending a sharp pang through their hearts.
Lu Zhiyuan’s expression looked somewhat unnatural as well, but he still said, “You saw it too. After Huaisi died, he left. Even setting that aside… don’t think we didn’t know you wrote a letter to him. And what happened? Did you get a reply?”
Chen Yao bit her lower lip, her expression finally sinking into discouragement and dejection.
Lacking the heart to press further, Lu Zhiyuan looked at the lifeless refuge and said in a low voice, “We’ve already done enough. Not leaving this place and not abandoning it is the least we can do to honor Huaisi. You must remember: we are not Huaisi, nor will we ever become people like him.”
Silence fell over the group once more.
Night fell. In the resource-scarce zombie apocalypse, only the moonlight shone down impartially on everyone without regard to status or wealth, sprinkling silver dust across the earth and providing the faint, visible light people needed to navigate the night.
A figure slipped silently over the outer wall, seamlessly blending into the shadows. Only the moon kept a silent watch on his movements, while this riddled, battered refuge remained completely still.
Huaisi vaulted over the perimeter wall, realizing only now that when he was human, this wall had felt impossibly high and impenetrable, like a wall of bronze and iron. Now, he understood how easily he could clear a barrier meant to protect the masses it no longer posed any obstacle in his eyes.
Lingering in the shadows, he approached a building where a window emitted a faint glow.
In this zombie apocalypse, ordinary refuge dwellers could never afford such luxurious energy sources. Only people from the main base treated energy cores like ordinary lightbulbs. He crept close to the window, and with his exceptionally sharp post-zombie senses, he vaguely heard people talking inside.
“Director Zhai, are we leaving tomorrow? Didn’t the director say we’d be inspecting for a few more days?”
A gloomy voice rang out, “Yes, we can leave since there’s no useful news anyway. There hasn’t been any value in continuing this inspection for a long time.”
“But if we leave suddenly like this, shouldn’t we give advance”
“Obey orders! That’s the arrangement!” The voice suddenly turned impatient. “This place never had any value to begin with, so what if we leave? The only ones barely worth mentioning this time are those few Espers anyway. Those few won’t die easily; if they want to follow, let them follow. If they don’t want to, they can stay behind with these refuge folks. We leave at the break of dawn tomorrow. Be discreet when departing, and don’t alert the others.”
The others looked at each other and replied, “Understood.”
Yet, in the cups on their table sat tea steeped not long ago brought over with sycophantic eagerness by a middle-aged man. The tea leaves weren’t of high quality, with residue floating to the surface. Before the apocalypse, this would have been considered ordinary tea, but in this era especially in a refuge as dirt-poor as this it was exceedingly precious. They glanced at the tea in their cups, but none of them showed any intention of speaking up for those who offered it.
The strong dictated the fate of the weak, and the weak deserved to be eliminated.
Survival of the fittest was merely a regression to Darwin’s mode of existence. No one cared what ants thought; they only cared whether ants would become a nuisance.
These men then discussed a few other matters before retiring to their respective rest areas.
Having heard this conversation, Huaisi gradually grew angry as the realization set in.
At this moment, the refuge was pitch-black and dead quiet, save for this single room emitting a faint glow the only light source across the entire settlement sleeping in darkness, and the only hope that the people crouching through the dark nights could look forward to regarding their unknown path ahead.
His anger surged. He felt as though the residents sleeping soundly in the refuge were like frogs in warm water, slowly being brought to a boil. On the eve of their deaths, they were still harboring illusions and pinning their salvation on these outsiders, only to perish unknowingly as the temperature rose, unable to even utter a dying wail before death took them.
After all, if these inspection team members slipped away quietly tomorrow and perhaps even took Chen Yao and the other Espers with them the remaining battered refuge and the perimeter wall he had just hopped over so easily would never be able to hold back the swarms of mutating zombies.
This place would turn into a hopeless purgatory at the mercy of zombies. Even if some tried to flee, he doubted anyone from the refuge could escape successfully to another branch base; most likely, they would all be wiped out entirely.
This made him all the more worried about Uncle Liao. After the previous incident, how was he doing now? He needed to find Uncle Liao first for peace of mind.
The thought arose, and his figure flashed rapidly through the dark night. Moving like a ghost with astonishing speed, he glided silently across the refuge, groping his way toward Liao Muqing’s dwelling.
Damn it, how could he have forgotten him! In any case, he had to figure out a way! How could he possibly keep the people in the refuge alive?!
When he stopped not far from the entrance of Liao Muqing’s residence and tried hard to walk in a normal fashion, he suddenly found himself pacing with his arms and legs moving on the same side. No matter how he tried to position his limbs, it felt wrong, every step clumsy and stiff. He clumsily adjusted his walking posture.
Inadvertently, his body stepped out into the moonlight. Bathed in the cold, heatless moonlight, his pale skin emitted an unnatural, corpse-like white glow. His slender fingers, reacting to his lingering anger, instinctively sprouted sharp claws, leaving him momentarily stunned.
“Ah…” Hearing a gasp, he looked toward the source. His vertical pupils narrowed, glowing faintly in the dark like a beast’s! Fearing exposure, in the blink of an eye, he appeared right in front of the woman who had gasped. But when he saw her face, he froze.
The woman was equally startled upon seeing him, maintaining her wide-mouthed gasp for a moment before moving with astonishing speed to slap her hand over her mouth, stifling her next scream, “Ah!” At the same time, her thin, dry hand clamped over the mouth of the small child clinging to her, cutting off the child’s cry before it could escape.
Huaisi stared blankly at her, then down at the child beside her it was unmistakably the mother and child he had encountered in the alley that day.
As it turned out, they were still alive, living perfectly fine. That was wonderful.
Realizing that the person devoured that day wasn’t this pair he had met before, his tension eased slightly. Because of his unblinking stare, the woman hugged her child and backed away in terror. Under the moonlight, that terrified expression was laid bare without a shadow of a doubt.
Seeing her fear reflected in his eyes, Huaisi snapped out of it. The urgent emotions that had burned inside him slowly faded, feeling as though they had plunged into an ice cellar.
Right. He was just a zombie now; what right did he have to save these people? He had never been the protagonist of the original book Xie Shouchan was the protagonist. He couldn’t change anything anyway.
Yet, the woman’s gasp had still drawn attention. A questioning voice called out from inside the room, “Xiao Cai, what’s wrong?”
The woman looked at Huaisi, a look of lingering dread still plastered across her face. But upon hearing that voice, she paused, and then said, “N—n—nothing…” She tightly clutched her child, still terrified, yet made a completely contradictory gesture.
Huaisi looked at her in astonishment.
Why would she cover for him?
Inside, the man grew worried and walked out, his voice drawing closer as he asked, “What’s wrong with your voice? What happened?”
Hesitating, the woman actually waved her hand toward Huaisi, signaling for him to hurry and leave.
Yet Huaisi didn’t budge. As the man stepped out from the room, he ran right into Huaisi face-to-face.