Xia Yun was truly about to cry from anger this time.
“Shi Ran, you… you need to watch your manners!”
What a dry, hollow sentence.
Having finished her verbal satisfaction, Shi Ran flipped herself into the back seat of the Hummer, lazily leaning against the seat. She glanced at Xia Yun with a hint of provocation, her expression effortlessly cool and arrogant.
“I don’t have manners. What exactly am I supposed to watch?”
Seeing her get into the car, the others followed one after another.
The seven-seater off-road vehicle still had one empty seat. Xia Yun’s eyes lit up.
“You still have a seat. I—”
She turned her pitiful gaze toward the honest-looking Tang Yao.
Bang.
Tang Yao dropped his heavy bag onto the empty seat.
“Sorry, I’ve got a lot of luggage. This is for my stuff.”
He scratched his head with a sincere expression, completely unaware that he was supposed to give the seat up.
Xu Zimo drove, and the six of them sped off.
Near a row of buses, Li Zhouyang—the person responsible for checking passengers—looked over with dissatisfaction.
Shi Ran really had terrible taste. Those men? What’s so great about looking good? Strength in numbers was what mattered. There were so many people on the buses—only that was safe. One day, he would make her cry and beg him.
While he was distracted, a thin woman boarded the bus, looking completely normal. He didn’t pay attention.
A finger-length scratch on her left leg was tightly hidden under her pants…
“Shi Ran, you’re amazing. That girl earlier was almost crying from you. Your mouth is just like the captain’s,” Xu Zimo said in admiration.
“Tch—”
Zhou Nuocheng turned his head toward the window, pretending to be indifferent, but the curve of his lips betrayed his good mood.
A girl who knew right from wrong.
If the zombie outbreak hadn’t happened, none of this would matter—it was only a one- or two-day journey anyway, and nothing special would occur.
Once they confirmed the spatial ability was useful, they could recruit her. If not, they would part ways in Nanqing City.
But now that zombies had erupted, even a small mistake could wipe out the entire team. He would not joke with his teammates’ lives.
There would be many dangers ahead. If they could not stay united, he would not hesitate to separate from them.
He just hoped Shi Ran wouldn’t disappoint him…
“Nuocheng, the nearest relay point—Lin City—fell last night. The people inside have already evacuated.”
Gu Ming didn’t look up as his fingers flew across the keyboard. On the screen was a hastily compiled national map.
Unlike ordinary maps, red zones represented “no-go areas”—places without survival bases, where all evacuees had already been pulled out.
The government was using remaining satellite systems to provide national intelligence through this map, hoping the team could safely deliver classified files back to the central authorities.
But nationwide communication systems were heavily damaged. Information was fragmented, and the situation was unclear. The team’s return date was unknown.
Eventually, they decided to use China’s quantum key system to transmit the files ahead of time, allowing the central government to respond faster.
After a while, Gu Ming located the next surviving relay point.
“Two young ladies, we have a temporary mission. We will stop in Feng County, J Province for about two days. If anything happens to us, you can leave on your own. This is the route map—I’ve marked the fastest path to Nanqing City.”
It was the longest speech anyone had ever heard from Gu Ming. Even Ye Shuyao froze, staring at the map without knowing how to respond.
After last night’s discussion, the Miracle Team had made a unified decision: if the girls continued with them, they would inevitably be drawn into missions.
They were not formal soldiers, but five years of life-and-death experience had made them fearless of death—just unwilling to drag others down.
The car was quiet, except for Shi Ran’s inner monologue screaming with excitement.
The quantum key system in the south had only two units—one in Lin City and one in Feng County—each guarded by retired soldiers.
The key was a chip inside their computers. The system couldn’t be accessed directly; the entire computer had to be destroyed to retrieve the chip and transfer it to another device.
This transmission method had not been used for over a decade. Very few people even knew about it.
Among them, only Zhou Nuocheng—coming from a political family lineage—had been specifically trained in how to use it.
With international conditions still unclear and domestic systems severely damaged, interception risk was high. Activating the quantum key was a last resort.
But in the novel, the protagonists clearly obtained the key in Lin City.
So what was all the Lin City plot she had stayed up all night memorizing?
Just her good memory?
She had overlooked the timeline. If they had not waited for her and Ye Shuyao, the team would have left yesterday and reached Lin City on time.
Great.
She had successfully led the team off the script she had memorized all night.
Shi Ran: …
But she couldn’t fully blame herself. The novel never specified when Lin City fell. She assumed a one-day delay wouldn’t affect the main plot—after all, the key wouldn’t just “move.”
Who knew it would literally relocate the event?
What kind of ridiculous plot twist was that? The author was insane—so impressive it made her want to applaud.
Another day of betrayal by the plot.
Still… Shi Ran’s determination to grow stronger wasn’t fake.
In the apocalypse, strength ruled. She needed resources, training, and survival power to take care of Ye Shuyao in the future.
Cooperating with the main team at least guaranteed safety. These were top-tier teammates in the entire novel.
Besides, Nanqing’s Cangsong Base hadn’t even been built yet. There was no rush.
Shi Ran pushed the map aside.
“We’re coming with you. We’re all on the same boat now—more people, more chances. We can also grab supplies in Feng County. I’m not in a hurry to go to Nanqing.”
“Me too,” Ye Shuyao said immediately. “It’s the apocalypse and you still kept your promise to wait outside Yuning City. There’s no way we’d just leave you and run. Don’t underestimate people.”
The team didn’t expect two girls in their twenties to have such courage.
Everyone was running outward—yet they were willing to go deeper in.
At that moment, the Miracle Team truly respected them.
Their tone also became noticeably closer.
“Did you feel any special energy in your body after waking up yesterday?” Xu Zimo asked carefully.
“If we’re going to fight together, we should understand each other’s abilities.”
“I have!” Ye Shuyao said proudly. “I can control wind, hehe.”
As she demonstrated, a small wind blade formed at her fingertips. She tried to strike a car ornament—but the vehicle jolted, and she accidentally slammed the airflow onto the laptop in Gu Ming’s hands.
A gust of wind lifted his bangs.
Gu Ming: “……”
“Thanks… no need. That’s… quite refreshing.”
He awkwardly lifted his laptop screen again.