Cubicle No. 7 in Area B was located at the end of a relatively quiet side passage on the inner side of the air-raid shelter.
Rather than a room, it was more like a small space barely partitioned off with rough wooden boards and thick canvas. A crooked metal plate with the number “7” scribbled on it hung on the door.
Anyone who could live here had at least been confirmed to possess a “special ability.”
Ruan Ning used her key to open the door—or rather, pushed aside the wooden board that served as a door—and a wave of air mixed with dust, sweat, and a faint, almost imperceptible fluctuation of energy rushed toward her.
The cubicle was small, only about ten square meters, and the low ceiling made it feel oppressive. A low-wattage bulb overhead cast a dim yellow light. Several old mats were spread across the floor, and at the moment, all three inside were already occupied.
Almost the instant Ruan Ning pushed the door open, three pairs of eyes snapped toward her in unison—sharp, appraising, carrying the wariness unique to ability users, far removed from the numbness or panic of ordinary survivors outside.
On the mat closest to the door sat a short-haired woman of about twenty-seven or twenty-eight. Her skin was a healthy wheat color, her gaze sharp as a hawk’s.
She wore a black athletic outfit suited for movement. Resting across her knees was a fire axe polished to a gleam, its blade faintly glowing with a dark red sheen.
She swept a cold glance at Ruan Ning, then lowered her head again to wipe down the axe handle, her posture radiating a fierce keep-your-distance aura. Ruan Ning could vaguely sense from her the energy fluctuations of something like metal affinity or strength enhancement.
In the middle sat a woman around thirty, with short hair and black-rimmed glasses, her air crisp and efficient. Under the lamp, she was studying a crumpled map of the safe zone.
She looked up at Ruan Ning, pushed her glasses up, and calmly swept her gaze over her with a cool, evaluative air.
Her lips moved slightly in what counted as a greeting, but she didn’t speak right away. Ruan Ning detected faint ripples of mental energy around her—possibly a psychic type or some kind of perception ability.
In the innermost corner was a figure curled up in an oversized hoodie. The hood was pulled low, completely obscuring the face; judging only by the build, she might have been a young woman.
She seemed utterly uninterested in Ruan Ning’s arrival, not even lifting her head, as if she had merged with the shadows themselves. Yet Ruan Ning’s keen water-element perception caught an extremely subtle, chilly energy lingering around her, its exact nature difficult to determine.
Three roommates, three completely different temperaments—but without exception, all were ability users.
Ruan Ning’s expression remained calm, unfazed by the scrutinizing gazes. She walked over to the only empty mat, positioned between the door and the woman with glasses, and set her backpack down.
“New here?” the short-haired woman asked without looking up, her voice hoarse and cold.
“Mm,” Ruan Ning replied.
“What’s your name? What ability?” This question came from the efficient woman with glasses. Her voice was steady, carrying a rational, penetrating clarity. Among ability users, one’s power and strength were the most direct measures of status and threat.
“Ruan Ning. Water type.” She kept it brief. Choosing to reveal her water ability both explained why she could live here and fit the “support role” image she wanted to maintain, lowering others’ guard.
“Water type?” The axe-wiping woman paused, clearly surprised. She looked up at Ruan Ning again, the scrutiny in her eyes easing slightly. “Tsk, that’s rare. We’re badly short on water these days.” Her name was Lin Yan, and her ability was strength enhancement.
The woman with glasses nodded, her expression unchanged. “Zhou Min. Enhanced perception.” She introduced herself just as succinctly, her gaze still fixed on Ruan Ning as if judging the truth of her words and her potential value. “Water abilities are indeed in short supply. Logistics will need you badly.”
The hooded figure in the back corner showed no reaction at all, as if asleep—or simply disdainful of conversation.
Ruan Ning nodded and said nothing more, beginning to arrange her bedding.
She could feel it clearly: beneath Zhou Min’s calm gaze lay precise calculation and assessment; Lin Yan was straightforward, respecting strength above all; and the one in the corner… was a complete unknown.
This four-person cubicle, though far safer than the outside, was no less full of undercurrents. Among ability users, cooperation and competition coexisted, and trust was a luxury.
She had just finished laying out her mat when the fabric curtain was lifted and a soldier poked his head inside. “Area B, Cubicle 7—Ruan Ning? Platoon Leader Wang wants you at the logistics water treatment point right now. They’re in urgent need of water.”
“I’m here. I’ll go now.” Ruan Ning stood up.
Zhou Min adjusted her glasses and said evenly, “Looks like Miss Ruan is about to start contributing to the safe zone.”
Lin Yan merely snorted and continued polishing her axe.
The figure in the corner remained as motionless as a frozen shadow.
Ruan Ning’s expression didn’t change as she calmly left the cubicle.
Following the soldier’s directions, she passed through the somewhat crowded but orderly corridors of Area B and arrived at a deeper section of the air-raid shelter designated as the logistics area.
The lighting here was relatively brighter, and the air was filled with disinfectant, sweat, and a distinctive scent of… rising water vapor.
The water treatment point was set up in a space that might once have been a storage room, now buzzing with activity.
Several huge plastic barrels and every container that could be found—from washbasins to broken bathtubs—were arranged in the center.
Two logistics workers in uniform, their faces etched with exhaustion, were rushing around nonstop, performing simple sedimentation and filtration on small amounts of murky water with pitiful efficiency.
Nearby, several people were already lined up waiting for water—medical staff and mess soldiers alike—each wearing an anxious expression.
“The water-type ability user sent by Platoon Leader Wang is here!” the guiding soldier shouted.
In an instant, all eyes focused on Ruan Ning.
The two logistics workers looked as though they had seen a savior. One of them, an older man known as “Old Chen,” hurried over, his bloodshot eyes brimming with hope. “You’re the new water-type ability user? Ruan Ning?”
“That’s me.” Ruan Ning nodded.
“Great! Wonderful! Hurry—this way!” Old Chen practically dragged Ruan Ning over to a relatively clean empty barrel. “See these barrels? And the people lining up outside? There are thousands of mouths in the safe zone relying on clean water to stay alive! The medical team needs it even more urgently! How much can you produce? How fast? Is it directly drinkable?”
He fired off a string of questions, his tone rushed and anxious.
Ruan Ning didn’t answer right away. She first surveyed the surroundings, sensing the fairly abundant moisture in the air (the air-raid shelter itself had relatively high humidity). Then she raised both hands and held them suspended above the empty barrel.
She deliberately controlled the output and pace of her energy. Unlike in combat, where she pursued speed and power, she now mobilized her water ability in a steady, sustained manner.
Beneath her palms, invisible water molecules in the air were rapidly drawn in and gathered. A hazy white mist formed first, and then clear water poured down like a small waterfall, splashing into the barrel with a steady rush!
The flow wasn’t especially fierce, but it was stable and continuous, and it became visibly clear and transparent, carrying a fresh, clean scent.
“It’s working! It really is!” Old Chen rubbed his hands excitedly. The other logistics worker beside him, as well as the people waiting in line, all showed expressions of relief and joy.
“This volume… not bad! Very good!” Old Chen watched the steadily rising water level and nodded repeatedly. “Much faster than that half-baked earth-type who tried to seep water out of the ground—and much cleaner too! Ruan Ning, right? From now on, you’ll work here every morning! I’ll report your contribution points honestly!”
Ruan Ning didn’t speak, focusing instead on maintaining the flow of water.
She estimated that at this deliberately “low-profile” efficiency and level of consumption, she could keep working for one or two hours, filling several large barrels—enough to meet the safe zone’s most urgent needs without appearing too astonishing.
As she continued producing water, she quietly monitored her own energy expenditure and recovery. In this relatively gentle application, her control over her water ability seemed to be subtly growing more refined and fluid.
During brief pauses, she occasionally lifted her eyes, scanning the people in line and the logistics staff moving back and forth. She was observing—and listening.
From their fragmented remarks and weary conversations, she picked up bits of information: the safe zone’s food reserves were tighter than expected; the military was organizing forces to clear zombies from surrounding areas in an attempt to expand the safe perimeter; ability-user squads going out to search for supplies were an important way to earn contribution points and extra resources; and… it seemed that several somewhat well-known ability-user teams had already begun to form.
“I heard the ‘Fire Wolf’ group found another small warehouse yesterday—brought back quite a lot of canned food…”
“If only there were more water-type ability users like Miss Ruan…”
“The medical team seems to have more cases of wound infections again—short on medicine…”
The information was scattered, but Ruan Ning’s mind worked like a precise instrument, quickly filtering and analyzing it. To establish herself here and find her targets, all of this was crucial.
By the time the first large barrel was filled, the look Old Chen gave her was already full of admiration and gratitude. Ruan Ning’s expression remained calm, though fine beads of sweat had formed at her temples, showing that the work was not without cost.
“Miss Ruan, take a short break and have some water,” Old Chen said, even personally pouring her half a cup of the water she had just produced.
Ruan Ning thanked him and took it, sipping slowly, though her gaze drifted unconsciously toward the entrance of the corridor.
The safe zone was like a newly spread net—and she had already quietly landed upon it.
Next, she needed to figure out the structure of this net, and… where the “insects” she wanted to catch were hiding.
Lin Jiaojiao. Lin Wanyun. And her selfish father…
Would you be here?
She set the cup down, her eyes regaining their focus, and continued condensing clean water. Building strength, accumulating contributions, gathering information—every step had to be taken carefully.
Within this seemingly orderly air-raid shelter, her path of revenge continued quietly, in a more concealed and patience-testing way.