Chapter 72

Chapter 72

The cement factory.

After securing the supplies, the group decided not to continue on to the next supply point. Instead, they took a full day and night to rest and regroup.

They called it rest, but no one truly relaxed.

They spent most of their time practicing how to use their weapons. The only difference was that they were no longer keeping themselves wound quite so tight. They finally allowed themselves a little room to breathe.

Perhaps the reassuring weight of the weapons in their hands gave them some sense of security, allowing nerves stretched taut for days on end to loosen ever so slightly.

At that moment, everyone was gathered in a corner except Ji Feifan, who was standing watch by the window. A phone lay between them while Lin Hao and Chen Yuhui compiled and analyzed the scraps of information they had gathered from survivor forums.

“Ahem. First of all,” Lin Hao began after clearing his throat, his expression serious, “after discussing it, Yuhui and I think we may need to change our final destination. Heading for the safe zone in East China might be more realistic than our original plan to go northwest.”

He exchanged a glance with Chen Yuhui. She nodded and took over. “Based on the fragments of information we’ve pieced together online, along with accounts from the few survivors who escaped the area… Yuncang Province appears to have… fallen.”

She struggled to force out the final word.

Silence descended for a moment.

“If we stick to our original, vague plan and head northwest, we’ll inevitably have to pass through or close to other southwestern provinces. We have no idea what those places are like now…” Lin Hao trailed off, but his concern was obvious.

Qingshui’s brow furrowed deeply. “An entire province? Fallen?”

Chen Yuhui nodded, disbelief still written across her own face. “As incredible as it sounds, all the available information points to yes. At the very least, the region has suffered a large-scale loss of contact and appears to have been overrun.”

An Xiaolin instinctively tightened her grip on the pistol resting on her lap. There were military forces stationed throughout the country. With the defensive infrastructure of modern cities, how could an entire province have fallen?

This was completely beyond anything they had previously imagined.

“How could that happen? It’s not as if they were…”

It’s not as if they were like us.

Qingshui murmured under her breath, stopping halfway through.

The thought had surfaced in her mind without warning, so abruptly that even she was taken aback.

Like “us” in what way? Like us in my previous life?

No, that wasn’t right. The zombies in her previous life had been dangerous, but they were nothing like the “Madmen” in this world, with their twisted intelligence, depraved sadism, and terrifying capacity to learn.

But… why had that thought come to her so naturally?

And why did it fill her with an almost instinctive… fear?

She tried to recall what Aunt Chen and the other elders in her previous life had told her about the chaos during the early days of the apocalypse.

How had the country responded? What had the military done?

Beneath the bright light, the color slowly drained from Qingshui’s face.

She realized that whenever she tried to delve into specific details, the images and voices in her mind blurred beyond recognition, as though she were viewing them through a thick pane of glass. It was as if some invisible force had wiped them away, leaving vast stretches of emptiness behind.

Why? Why can’t I remember?! When did this start??

A quiet terror rose from the depths of her heart.

“…Yuncang, Guilan, Sishu… The terrain in those places is complicated, with mountains and forests everywhere. Aside from the northeast, they should theoretically offer the highest chances of survival…” An Xiaolin continued following that line of thought, her voice filled with confusion.

Then she noticed something was wrong with Qingshui and abruptly stopped talking. She grabbed Qingshui’s ice-cold hand. “Hey! Qingshui! Are you okay? You look awful!”

Qingshui’s hand trembled slightly. She took a deep breath and forced herself to pull free of the chaotic fog clouding her memories.

She shook her head and managed a faint smile, her voice dry and strained. “I’m fine.”

“I just… can’t stop wondering how terrifying a disaster would have to be to bring down an entire province.”

Chen Yuhui gave her a worried look and handed her a bottle of water. Then she seriously considered the question. “Something even the military couldn’t stop… The only thing I can think of is one of those ‘zombie hordes’ from movies and TV. So many monsters that they surge forward like a flash flood or tsunami, swallowing everything in their path. No matter how powerful your firepower is, you’ll eventually run out of ammunition.”

She was trying to use familiar concepts to explain an unknown horror.

Lin Hao added, “And judging by what we’ve observed of the ‘Madmen’ so far, they’re obsessed with indiscriminate sex, killing each other, and eating people… Even if the virus has enhanced them physically, their behavior is so self-destructive and so utterly lacking in organization or discipline that continuing to wreak havoc for four or five years would already be their limit, much less taking on a modern military armed with heavy firepower head-on…”

Then how had the zombies in her previous life endured for over twenty years and even gradually hunted humanity down?

Qingshui’s face grew even paler, and fine beads of cold sweat formed along her temples.

“Maybe they crawled up from underground,” Ji Feifan said from behind them. He had been listening to the discussion and cut in with a cold laugh.

Crawled up from underground?
The words sent a violent shudder through Qingshui. She shot to her feet so abruptly that she staggered.

“Qingshui!”

“What’s wrong?”

An Xiaolin, Lin Hao, and Chen Yuhui all stared at her in alarm and hurried to their feet. Ignoring her injured leg, Chen Yuhui used An Xiaolin for support and stood as well.

Ji Feifan, who was stationed by the window, immediately glanced outside on high alert before turning back and asking urgently, “What happened?”

An Xiaolin clasped Qingshui’s hand tightly and felt that Qingshui’s fingertips were ice-cold and trembling faintly.

“Qingshui, are you sure you’re all right? Did you remember something?”

Chen Yuhui stepped closer, her eyes full of concern. “Are you feeling unwell? Don’t force yourself.”

Qingshui’s chest heaved. She took several deep breaths, trying to calm her pounding heart and suppress the buzzing emptiness in her mind.

She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she had forcibly restored her usual composure.

“Go on.” She looked at Lin Hao, her voice steady once more. “Don’t mind me. It was just… a little stuffy in here.”

An Xiaolin was still worried, but when Qingshui squeezed her hand in reassurance, she relaxed her grip and gave her a smile.

Lin Hao regarded her hesitantly. Only after confirming that she really did seem to have recovered did he swallow and continue. “The next piece of news is… good news, I guess. Some survivors have already reached and entered the safe zones in East China and North China.”

“There aren’t many details, but one thing is certain: the military is maintaining order there. They’re relatively safe, and rescue forces really are trying to expand outward. The country… really hasn’t abandoned us.”

“Then our objective is clear,” Chen Yuhui concluded. “We do whatever it takes to stay alive and reach a safe zone.”

“Mm.” Qingshui gave a quiet acknowledgment, then asked, “How much battery do we have left on our electronic devices?”

Chen Yuhui answered immediately, “My phone is at forty percent. I also have a fully charged power bank in my bag, two fully charged backup phones, and an old phone at about fifty percent.”

An Xiaolin said, “My phone has around sixty percent left.”

“Mine’s at seventy,” Ji Feifan said.

Lin Hao gave a wry smile. “Mine’s down to thirty percent…”

Qingshui nodded and looked at him. “Do we need to find more ways to recharge?”

Lin Hao hurried to explain, “We probably won’t need to in the short term. Most of the power bank’s charge went toward charging the drone. This model lasts a long time on a full charge, and since we mainly use it for reconnaissance, it won’t be flying constantly. Also…”

His voice dropped, carrying a faint trace of dejection. “I don’t think internet, electricity, and water will be cut off everywhere. On the road, we should still have chances to recharge at service areas or in other buildings. We’ll find a way… We don’t necessarily have to enter another… major city.”

Qingshui glanced at him, keenly catching the fear beneath his words. She knew Lin Hao was afraid of losing them.

She was just about to ask what he had learned about other supply locations when–

Rumble…

Without warning, the solid concrete floor beneath their feet trembled.

The movement was so faint and brief that they could almost have mistaken it for an illusion. But everyone who had endured the horror at the last service area went deathly pale in an instant.

“Move-!” An Xiaolin barely got the word out.

No instructions were needed. Everyone sprang into action at once, including Chen Yuhui with her injured leg.

Qingshui swept Chen Yuhui onto her back. Lin Hao pulled Zhou Yaping up, while Ji Feifan and An Xiaolin grabbed the nearest weapons and backpacks. Their movements were frantic but swift.

The trauma left by that last massive earthquake ran too deep.

But they had barely rushed a few steps down the crumbling staircase when the tremor stopped. The ground returned to stillness, as though that fleeting shudder had been nothing more than a collective hallucination.

Panting, everyone stopped behind a heap of debris on the first floor. Still shaken, they looked around and listened intently.

Nothing else happened.

“I-Is it over?” Lin Hao asked breathlessly, his voice uncertain.

“It seems like… it only shook once?” An Xiaolin pressed herself against the cold wall, her heart still pounding.

Qingshui slowly lowered Chen Yuhui from her back. Her brows drew into a tight frown as she stared at the mottled floor beneath her feet, her gaze seeming to pierce through it into the depths below.

It hadn’t been an illusion.

The instant the tremor struck, she had felt more than the ground shaking.

She had heard that strange sound again.

Crack–

It sounded as though something unimaginably enormous was slowly, steadily… breaking apart.

What in the world was it?

Meanwhile, hundreds of kilometers away, deep within a remote mountain range in Xiangjiang Province…

A fissure was tearing open at a speed visible to the naked eye, releasing an indescribably murky aura.

Then, one pair of scarlet eyes after another slowly emerged from the depths of the darkness.

“Hee…”