The convoy, battered and exhausted, finally reached its destination before the blood-red sunset completely dipped below the horizon — the temporary safe zone on the west side of the city.
It was not the imagined high-walled fortress, but a massive air-raid shelter originally excavated as a civil defense project, built into the mountainside.
The entrance had undergone preliminary reinforcement, sandbags piled up, machine gun nests set up, and soldiers armed with live rounds and stern faces tightly guarded the entrance, their sharp eyes scanning every approaching vehicle and survivor.
Above the entrance, roughly painted in red were the bold characters: “Jiangzhou Temporary Refuge,” standing out starkly under the blood-red sky and carrying an undeniable authority.
The convoy queued up at the entrance, moving slowly forward. Ruan Ning calmly observed this rare “orderly place” in the apocalypse through the car window.
The first thing she noticed was the people.
Countless people — stretching from the entrance out onto the cleared open ground, sitting or lying, as far as the eye could see.
Most wore tattered clothes, were gaunt and pale, their eyes hollow and numb, as if their souls had been sucked out, surviving purely on instinct.
The air was heavy with the stench of sweat, body odor, faint blood, and the smell of rotting wounds, blending into an indescribable aura of despair belonging to the crowd.
Crying, coughing, whispering, soldiers shouting to maintain order — all these sounds mixed into a dull, continuous hum.
Next was the intertwining of order and chaos.
Soldiers struggled to maintain the most basic order, guiding new survivors to register and be sorted.
Medical staff in white coats, masks and gloves stained with blood, busily worked in makeshift medical tents. Suppressed groans and the occasional covered stretcher revealed the extremely limited medical conditions here.
The open space was roughly divided into several zones: new arrivals registration, supply distribution points (with endless lines), temporary medical points, and large areas with no facilities where people could only sit on the ground — the “residential areas.”
Some small groups had already formed, huddling together for mutual support; but many were alone, curled up in corners, watching every approaching person warily.
Resources were clearly extremely scarce.
Ruan Ning saw at the supply distribution point that everyone received only a small compressed biscuit and a pitiful half bottle of water, yet even this caused people to scramble fiercely — if not for soldiers holding guns to intimidate them, riots might have broken out long ago.
Near the entrance, in slightly better conditions, Ruan Ning keenly noticed that although people there were also ragged, their complexion was better. A few individuals emitting faint energy waves were the ability-users, who even received somewhat polite treatment from soldiers and seemed to get slightly more supplies.
A hierarchy was silently forming here: ordinary people, ability-users, and the armed military.
Ruan Ning’s off-road vehicle slowly moved to the registration area. A soldier wearing a mask and looking tired tapped on her window.
“Name? Age? Original residence? Injuries? Awakened abilities?” The questions were mechanical and fast.
“Ruan Ning, 19 years old, originally from the south of the city. No injuries,” she answered calmly, pausing slightly before adding, “Ability… water ability, level one.”
She chose to reveal her water ability.
This was a precious supportive ability early on, ensuring she would receive slightly better treatment than ordinary people, without attracting too much attention or fear like offensive abilities.
The soldier glanced at her carefully, then made a mark on the form and softened his tone a little: “Water ability? Good. Take this tag and report to Squad Leader Wang in Area B. He will arrange things for you. Your vehicle must be parked uniformly; hand over the keys.”
Ruan Ning took a simple metal tag with a number on it and obediently handed over the car keys. She knew that here, personal force must temporarily obey collective order — at least on the surface.
She slung her inconspicuous backpack over her shoulder, got out, and blended into the vast, noisy sea of survivors filled with hope and despair.
Inside the air-raid shelter, dim lights flickered deep within like the giant mouth of a monster swallowing the continuously flowing crowd.
Ruan Ning clenched the metal tag tightly, her eyes calmly scanning this so-called “safe zone.”
This was not paradise, but another form of battlefield.
The competition for survival, the fight for resources, and the test of humanity would play out here in a rawer form.
Following the signs and sparse soldiers’ guidance, Ruan Ning passed through the crowded, noisy, nearly impassable outer area and headed deep into the shelter to Area B.
The farther inside, the darker it became, relying on temporary wiring and occasional flickering emergency lights.
Compared to outside, the flow of people was visibly thinner, and although the air remained murky, the overwhelming stench of sweat and rot had lessened considerably.
On both sides appeared “rooms” or “compartments” separated by wooden boards, canvas, or even cardboard, vaguely revealing some tidily arranged bedding or a few personal belongings inside.
Clearly, this was an area for those with certain “value” or “abilities.”
At a fork in the path, a handwritten sign read: “Logistics Management, No Unauthorized Entry.” A stern-faced soldier with a gun blocked her way.
“What’s your business?”
Ruan Ning showed the metal tag: “New arrival, water ability, here to report to Squad Leader Wang.”
The soldier checked the tag and looked her over, apparently surprised by her youth and calm demeanor, then stepped aside: “Go straight to the end, second room on the left.”
After thanking him, Ruan Ning continued. Along the corridor appeared stacks of supply boxes and hurried people dressed similarly ragged but with more focused eyes, most wearing different badges or carrying tools.
At the corridor’s end, the door to the second room on the left was open, with hoarse voices and the sound of paper shuffling inside.
Ruan Ning stopped at the door and knocked.
The room was simply furnished: an old office desk, several chairs, and a filing cabinet.
A man in military uniform, with the rank insignia of squad leader, about thirty years old, was hunched over the desk, reading a list under a desk lamp (indicating some prioritized power supply), his brows tightly furrowed.
His cheeks were gaunt, eye sockets deep, obviously exhausted but sitting upright.
Hearing the knock, he looked up sharply at Ruan Ning: “What is it?” His voice was hoarse and tired.
“Squad Leader Wang, I’m a new survivor, Ruan Ning. The registration office sent me to report to you.” She entered the room, placing the metal tag on the desk, speaking without humility or arrogance, “I’m a level one water ability user.”
“Water ability?” Wang’s eyes flickered with a subtle light. He picked up the tag and looked her up and down, focusing briefly on her clean, tidy clothes and calm, steady demeanor.
Such composure was rare in survivors her age.
“Ruan Ning… hmm, registered.” He found her number on the list and checked it off. “Water ability is good. Right now, the safe zone most lacks clean drinking and medical water. Your ability is very useful.”
He put down his pen, leaned back slightly, and looked at her. “According to regulations, ability users can be assigned better housing in Area B, usually four to six per room, with conditions much better than outside. Meanwhile, you’ll need to complete daily ‘contribution points’ tasks, like assisting logistics in purifying water or taking turns on defense duty. Completing these tasks earns contribution points that can be exchanged for food, supplies, or even better treatment. Understand?”
“Understood,” Ruan Ning nodded. This system was as expected.
“Do you have a vehicle?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hand over the keys?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm, vehicles are managed and dispatched by the military. They may requisition them when necessary. Hope you understand.” Wang said professionally. “As for your personal belongings, keep them safe yourself. Private fights are banned in the safe zone; if there are problems, find the patrol team. But… you still have to be careful,” he lowered his voice with a hint of helpless warning.
He took out a new, more refined ID tag and a key with a room number from his drawer and handed them to Ruan Ning. “This is your ID and room key. Room 7 in Area B. Report to the logistics water treatment point at 8 AM daily. Someone will assign your tasks. Any questions?”
Ruan Ning took the ID and key. The key was cold; the ID was engraved with her number and a faint “water” symbol.
“No, thank you, Squad Leader Wang.” She shook her head.
“Go settle in. Remember, here, following the rules and using your abilities means living better.” Wang waved his hand and returned to his endless paperwork.
Ruan Ning nodded slightly and left the room.
Holding the cold key, she walked down the dim corridor, clear in her mind.
This safe zone was indeed a miniature society with its own operating rules. She had a slightly better starting point than ordinary people but was also shackled by the “responsibility” that came with it.
But that was fine. Rules meant loopholes to exploit; contribution points meant a way to raise status; and being a water ability user was currently her best protection.
She headed toward Room 7 in Area B according to the key.
A new “battlefield” was unfolding.
And she needed to quickly get familiar with it and… find traces of those “old acquaintances.