Chapter 7.1: F177 District (7)

◎Island Escape Plan◎Song Ke buried the people from the Yue Mountain Martial Arts School in the back hills.

She was clumsy and stubborn, only knowing how to dig with her head down. Sweat and blood mixed together as they splattered into the yellow earth with the rise and fall of the iron shovel. Her lips were tightly pressed, her movements repetitive and mechanical, as if she were an untiring humanoid machine. After digging the holes, she began to carve gravestones, until blisters formed on all ten of her fingers, and she barely managed to carve the tombstones for each person.

A total of twenty-three small mounds of earth, each holding her senior brothers, senior sisters, her master, and all her attachments here.

While counting the number of people, Song Ke unexpectedly made a discovery: not all of the academy’s members had fallen here.

Yue Mountain was situated in E166 District, not very convenient for transportation. The school provided food and lodging for its students. People like Song En, who were wholeheartedly devoted to training, had everything they needed on the mountain – food, clothing, shelter – and wouldn’t descend the mountain unless necessary. But there were also individuals like Tun Qin and Li Ta, who were self-assured, only coming to the mountain for scheduled training sessions and rarely staying at the academy. She didn’t find traces of these two among the monster corpses, so they must have luckily missed this event.

Besides them, there was Zhang Ci, a senior brother who participated in the Azure Phoenix Assessment, and his group. He took away the elites of the academy. Who knew where they were now? With the chaos outside, would they even return?

Song Ke picked up a water hose and sprayed the ground, carefully cleaning the bloodstains from the walls and floor.

After finishing the cleaning, she inspected the entire martial hall once again. The TV showed nothing but static – no signal, but the water and electricity were functioning normally.

She found a light screen in a student’s dormitory. She wasn’t sure whose it was, and it wasn’t locked with a password. Many pages were open in the background. As Song Ke browsed, she realized that the online discussions were already in turmoil. People were discussing topics related to “doomsday” and “zombies.” Some criticized the lack of action from the Alliance, others were suggesting hoarding for self-protection, and some were despairingly sending out distress messages.

She wasn’t proficient with electronic devices and only had a rough understanding. Apparently, the outside world had also been infested with these dreadful creatures, but the situation was far better than in District 177. At least most cities hadn’t fallen into chaos yet.

Song Ke thought for a moment and attempted to search for the Alliance’s official news account. The latest pinned message was posted two days ago, stating that the Alliance had opened hundreds of emergency shelters. Residents could navigate to them using their own guidance systems for nearby safety. She scrolled down and clicked on the details link, but a message abruptly appeared on the screen: “No access permission.”

Power and status not only determined wealth distribution but also controlled information access. The owner of this light screen, just like her, wasn’t allowed even the small privilege of viewing emergency shelters.

Song Ke set down the light screen and finally noticed she was covered in grime. During the earlier fights, blood had splattered everywhere, staining her. Later, she had spent a considerable time digging in the dirt.

She went to the bathroom and took a cold shower to clean herself thoroughly. Afterward, she used a bandage to dress her wounds.

Cleaning the wound, stopping the bleeding, applying medicine, and bandaging it.

The blood of those monsters, it should be blood, was black in color and flowed slower than a normal person’s.

Recalling the expression of panic on the middle-aged man’s face at the pier when he was injured, Song Ke looked down at her wound, uncertain of what consequences might arise.

Night fell, and the sky unknowingly darkened.

Song Ke organized an 80-liter hiking backpack and packed it with warm, moisture-resistant clothing, a small amount of easily preservable food, a wide-mouthed water bottle and purification tablets, a flint flashlight, a portable first aid kit, a sleeping bag, and a tent. After some consideration, she also added a compass. As for weapons, her supernatural ability was her most potent arsenal, so she decided not to bring anything else.

Before leaving, Song Ke hesitated for a long time while holding a pen.

Originally, she had thought about writing something, but what could she write? Who would she write it for? To describe witnessing her master’s tragic death? To recount how she had been forced by circumstances to take lives, ending the lives of the twenty-two individuals from the martial school? Sᴇaʀch* Thᴇ NƟvelFɪre.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

After today, Yue Mountain Martial Arts School would cease to exist. Who would forgive her?

No one would forgive her.

In the end, she wrote nothing. Song Ke locked the gate of the martial school and took one last deep look before turning and leaving.

At 8 o’clock in the evening, the Fools Wharf was brightly lit, and the passage to the harbor was jammed with people.

There were no walls impervious to wind, and evidently, news of the military’s passage through the harbor had leaked out tonight.

Several green military trucks were parked at the end of the road, acting as temporary roadblocks. Standing beside the trucks were several tall individuals dressed in military uniforms. They wore camouflage pants tucked into combat boots and had a resolute expression, emanating a sharp and determined aura.

Officially, the Alliance hadn’t issued a rescue mission in District 177. Technically, this team was just passing through and wasn’t obligated to organize the evacuation of civilians. However, they still chose to bring along local residents as much as possible. Of course, this “bringing along” came with conditions. Each resident had to pass their thorough inspection before being allowed to board the starship behind them.

Alone, Song Ke trailed behind the group with their numerous bags and luggage, craning her neck to look ahead.

There were two lines in total, moving faster than she had anticipated. Everyone carried backpacks and dragged suitcases, moving forward silently and obediently. Along the way, someone would check the color of their pupils and whether they had any wounds or sores on their bodies and limbs.

At the forefront of the line was a folding table with a black box about the size of a radio on it. Every person who had passed the previous inspection had to stand in front of the table with arms outstretched, like undergoing a CT scan. The black box emitted scans, and a screen extended from its side. From where Song Ke stood, she could only see a chaotic tangle of red and green lines on the screen.

During the brief time she observed, three individuals at the front of the line were cleared, but the lines on the screen remained unchanged. One of them, a stern-looking man in his thirties who appeared to be the leader, moved his lips slightly. All three were directed towards the back half of the starship.

Song Ke stared intently at the seemingly unremarkable black box. While she pondered, she felt a forceful push on her back. “Move aside! Don’t block the way!”

The person was ruthless in his actions, using his full strength. Unfortunately, even with the strong push, the seemingly fragile young girl’s stance was as stable as a pine tree. She remained motionless, while he stumbled forward a few steps due to his own excessive force. He froze on the spot for a moment, then quickly regained his composure, glaring menacingly at Song Ke.

Not wanting to draw attention to herself, Song Ke lowered her gaze, stepped back, and courteously made space for him.

She recognized this man. His name was Xu Weiguo, and his fair-skinned son beside him was Xu Xing. Xu Weiguo had made a fortune by engaging in some shady smuggling business, and it was rumored that he was quite influential in the outside world, even having connections in B-grade cities. He was the wealthiest individual in District 177.

He always wore an oddly shaped gold watch on his wrist, and a blindingly shiny gold belt held up his round belly. While walking, his nostrils seemed perpetually aimed toward the sky. He might have been small-minded, if someone crossed him, he would hold a grudge for a long time. Song Ke had heard from Old Cheng about his domineering behavior and didn’t want to stir up trouble at this critical moment, so she quickly made way for him without saying a word.

“Consider yourself smart!” Xu Weiguo was accustomed to being arrogant. Seeing her timid and apprehensive expression, he muttered a few words, but nothing substantial. He pushed through the queue of people, openly swearing and cutting in line. Holding his son’s hand, he made his way to the very front. People dared not speak up, so they could only avoid him, suppressing their anger and swallowing their pride. His son was somewhat thinner-skinned, lowering his head in embarrassment and letting Xu Weiguo pull him forward.