The phone screen was tilted low, its brightness turned all the way down.
Chen Yexun stared at the blue dot on the map app.
A gas station beside the national highway, more than ten kilometers outside the city.
He knew this area so well he could draw it with his eyes closed.
He used to pass through here on business trips with his parents.
But that was before.
Now, it signified only two things: supplies or corpses.
It was the primary objective, but also the most obvious.
If there were other survivors, they would definitely head there too.
His fingers slid across the screen, zooming out the map.
Shifting his gaze three kilometers to the west, he saw a highway service area.
It was larger and had more supplies, but that also meant the density of “lunatics” inside might be terrifyingly high.
Further south was a driving school practice field.
It usually had a convenience store, open terrain, and was easy to observe.
The gas station, the service area, the practice field.
Three locations, three paths.
Chen Yexun turned off the screen and pinched the bridge of his nose in the dark.
He had his routes, but the crucial part was how to get the supplies.
Charging in was out of the question; he had to lure those things away, and far away at that.
A standard ringtone was too quiet to rely on.
To effectively attract a large swarm of lunatics, he needed a more sustained, “living human” kind of noise.
A Bluetooth speaker.
If he set up a speaker at a distance, connected it to a phone, and played recorded human voices…
*Rustle.* A subtle scraping sound.
Like dry leaves brushed by something.
Chen Yexun’s thought process cut off instantly.
He didn’t make any sudden movements, only using his thumb to press the power button and turn off the phone screen with extreme slowness.
The light vanished.
The narrow space was instantly swallowed by darkness.
He deliberately slowed his breathing, relaxing every muscle in his body to avoid popping any joints.
It wasn’t the wind.
Wind through leaves was a broad rustling sound, but that just now was a single-point scrape.
Right beneath them.
One minute.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
In the dark, time and senses stretched out infinitely.
A deathly silence blanketed the woods, and the sound never recurred.
It could have been a passing wild beast, or it could have been…
He waited an entire hour.
Only when his leg muscles began to grow numb did Chen Yexun move again.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
He lit up his phone again, the harsh light making him squint.
A Bluetooth speaker.
There was nowhere to find one out in the middle of nowhere, and going into the city to search tech stores was pure suicide.
As his eyes swept past a car icon in his notes app, he suddenly realized he didn’t need a portable speaker.
Cars.
Many private car owners modified their center consoles with independently powered Bluetooth systems or installed aftermarket car subwoofers.
As long as he found the right vehicle model, he could tear it out and use it.
Open browser, search, filter models, take screenshots to save.
A series of actions performed without hesitation.
By the time he finished, it was already two in the morning.
Chen Yexun rubbed his aching temples.
Exhaustion from his brain running at high speed began to hit him, but he knew he couldn’t sleep soundly.
He reached out and nudged Chu Yao beside him.
The moment his hand touched her shoulder, Chu Yao flinched hard—she had clearly been awake the whole time.
Chen Yexun handed over the phone.
A few words were typed in the notes app: [Take the second shift.
If you hear anything, don’t make a sound—just wake me immediately.] Chu Yao read the words by the faint light and nodded vigorously.
Chen Yexun said nothing more.
He slid the fruit knife under his backpack with the handle exposed, ready to be grabbed at a moment’s notice.
Resting one hand under his head, he adjusted his posture so he could burst into action even if he had to roll over, then closed his eyes.
Sleeping felt like walking a tightrope.
His dreams were filled with chaotic footsteps and that lingering metallic tang of blood.
At the slightest rustle of wind, his eyelids would quiver.
Meanwhile, Chu Yao huddled in the corner, clutching the phone tightly in both hands.
The surroundings were pitch-black, dark enough to devour a person whole.
Even the occasional chirp of insects in the woods made her scalp tingle.
She didn’t dare move, or even breathe too loudly.
An hour passed, and nothing happened.
Her eyes gradually adjusted to the dark, settling on Chen Yexun’s face.
Even asleep, his hand remained beneath his head, less than two centimeters from the knife handle.
His brow was tightly furrowed, as if even in his dreams he was calculating how to kill or avoid being killed.
During the day, there hadn’t been an ounce of life on this man’s face.
He looked at people with gloomy eyes, and didn’t even blink when taking action.
But now, in the late hours of the night illuminated only by faint moonlight, he had let down that edge.
He looked like…
just an exhausted, ordinary guy.
As Chu Yao watched him, the fear of being swallowed by the dark at any moment somehow faded a little.
At least he was still here.
As long as he lay here, even if it was full of lunatics outside, this place remained a sanctuary where she could breathe.
She didn’t know what this man had been through to be ground into this cold, distant form.
Perhaps his heart had long since turned to ruins?
Chu Yao couldn’t figure it out, nor did she dare think too deeply about it.
She merely shifted her body quietly, moving a bit closer to him, then widened her eyes again, staring fixedly into the unknown darkness.