CH 13

The makeshift inspection room was so basic level that it couldn’t even be called a room. Inside the small square tent of just a few square meters, there was a simple folding table, and four armed soldiers stood on either side, their spare ammunition glinting and dazzling, enough to make one dizzy.

“In exceptional times, we must use exceptional means,” the commander who brought Liu Ruosong in looked apologetic as he addressed him. “I apologize for the inconvenience…”

He seemed somewhat reluctant to voice the somewhat intrusive “inspection request.” However, Liu Ruosong quickly understood his meaning. He emptied his pockets of everything, including a thick folder he was carrying, and placed them on the table. Then, he began to undress.

In reality, Liu Ruosong could understand. Time was of the essence, and unexpected events could occur at any moment. Even if someone had a “no injuries certificate” from a hospital, it couldn’t guarantee that nothing would happen on the way to the gathering point.

When people are fighting for survival, they can tap into their deepest emotional reserves. Good intentions and ill intentions can reach their peak during such times, and there was no telling where the moral boundaries would lie.

After all, not everyone can be as selfless as Fu Yan, who could willingly sacrifice himself for others. Given the strict security measures at the checkpoint, Liu Ruosong wasn’t surprised at all.

He didn’t feel uncomfortable. During outdoor shoots, he had encountered all sorts of unusual situations. When he first started in this field, he once miscalculated the outdoor weather conditions and faced extreme weather changes. His clothes were of no use, and he had to resort to wrapping himself in sheepskin using makeshift methods.

“All right, thank you for your cooperation,” the young man behind the folding table quickly filled out a form and placed it on top of Liu Ruosong’s belongings.

His gaze briefly passed over Liu Ruosong’s gun holster, and his lips moved slightly, but under the commander’s signaling look, he didn’t say anything.

Liu Ruosong quickly put his clothes back on, secured the gun holster, and adjusted it to a position on his left side, where he could easily reach it.

Before Fu Yan left, he left his credentials and identification with Liu Ruosong, probably in case he encountered any difficulties on the way. After some consideration, Liu Ruosong tucked the item into his pocket.

Since he was brought by Fu Yan and had a blood sample on him, the people at the gathering point treated him quite courteously. In the end, someone even found a backpack for him to stuff all his belongings into.

“Thank you,” Liu Ruosong said.

Leaving the checkpoint, there was a temporary passage leading to a building. When Liu Ruosong entered, he turned back to take a look and saw a long line of people outside.

He only glanced for a moment before shifting his gaze away, tightening the straps of his backpack, and then entered the high-speed rail station.

Inside the building, many civilians had already gathered. Surprisingly, despite the chaotic situation, some of the basic facilities of the high-speed rail station were still functioning.

The large screen in the hall that normally displayed train numbers was still scrolling, but now it showed evacuation times and windows.

There were plenty of guards in the building as well, but they mostly stayed near the walls, probably to be ready to respond in case of any incidents within the hall. The building was eerily silent, and the survivors hadn’t found much solace after the ordeal. Instead, anxiety hung heavily in the air, and no one dared to be the first to cry or disrupt the unnerving order. Perhaps it was the fear of shedding the first tears, or maybe it was the result of the “order and discipline” maintained by those armed with real weapons. In any case, the situation inside was surprisingly calm, contrary to what Liu Ruosong had expected. However, the oppressive atmosphere made it difficult to breathe.

Liu Ruosong, carrying a case of blood samples, couldn’t be allowed to mingle in the crowded area.

After he entered the building, a guard received the message and came over to guide him.

“The VIP waiting room on the second floor has been cleared for you,” the guard said. “Don’t worry; as soon as the situation outside is clear, we will escort you to the train.”

Liu Ruosong nodded and was about to follow the guard when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

Taking it out, he saw Fu Yan’s name flashing on the screen. Liu Ruosong was surprised.

“Is everything sorted?” Fu Yan’s voice came through the phone.

“Yes, how did you know?” Liu Ruosong asked, still somewhat puzzled.

“I saw it,” Fu Yan replied.

Liu Ruosong paused for a moment, instinctively turned around, and scanned the surroundings.

The glass building’s outer walls were transparent, allowing a clear view from inside to outside. Liu Ruosong walked a few steps along the wall, squinting as he surveyed the area. Finally, he spotted Fu Yan’s car a few hundred meters away.

It was still too far for him to make out details. To Liu Ruosong, the car was just a black dot, and he couldn’t see whether Fu Yan was standing next to it or looking at him.

However, he had a vague sense of an answer in his mind. Subconsciously, he took a few more steps forward, pressed his palm against the cold glass wall.

This type of glass was one-way, allowing people inside to see outside clearly, but those outside couldn’t see inside. Fu Yan probably saw him entering through the open-air walkway, which was why he made the call.

At this moment, though, Fu Yan seemed to have inexplicably seen Liu Ruosong’s small action, and he chuckled lightly on the phone.

“Alright, go inside,” Fu Yan said.

He didn’t say anything like “now I can rest easy.” The phone call had been rather pointless, without substance, and not at all emotional. Nevertheless, Liu Ruosong saved this call, labeled it as 263, and stored it in his recordings.

Liu Ruosong took one last look outside through the window, then turned around, following the security personnel to the second floor.

Outside the gathering point, Fu Yan hung up the phone, gathered some bottled water from the car into a bundle, and stuffed it inside his jacket. Then, he got out of the car.

The car’s gas tank was almost empty, and it had sustained damage from the previous encounters with the undead. The bumper had been torn off, and the front hood bore a noticeable dent. Clearly, it couldn’t be driven any longer.

Fu Yan raised his collar, then walked in the opposite direction of the gathering point along the road.

He walked for about two kilometers and finally selected a car with a full tank of gas parked by the roadside. The owner of the car must have experienced something traumatic, as the car door was wide open, blood stains splattered across the driver’s seat, and the keys were left hanging inside, while the owner was nowhere to be found.

Fu Yan’s gaze shifted to the back seat, where he noticed a large rolled-up blanket.

A terrible premonition welled up inside Fu Yan. He opened the rear car door, picked up a piece of useless iron from the ground, and used it to carefully lift a corner of the blanket. Even before he could see the whole picture, he noticed a small hand, palm-sized, inside the blanket.

Fu Yan: “…”

He fell into an unusual silence, standing still for a moment, then finally bent down and picked up the rolled-up blanket.

Inside the blanket was a little girl. She looked adorable, with fair skin, long eyelashes, and appeared to be about two or three years old. Her body was still warm, and there were small, seeping blood stains around her eyes.

She had a large bite wound on her leg, spanning her entire lower leg, but there were no signs of mutation. Her body remained soft, and she hadn’t turned into one of those monstrous creatures. Fu Yan scrutinized her for a moment and finally found the reason.

There was a bruise on her neck, distinctively shaped like a handprint with deep indentations where each finger had pressed into her skin—she had been strangled to death before she could mutate.

In just a few moments, Fu Yan could reconstruct the tragic scene that had unfolded here. The car was a family vehicle, with a Polaroid photo of a young family affixed to the dashboard, indicating the husband, wife, and presumably one other person. Perhaps one of them had been bitten, but they still wanted to try their luck by reaching the gathering point. Unfortunately, before they could get halfway there, one of them began to mutate.

Mutants had no rationality and would attack anyone they saw. What happened next wasn’t clear—whether the remaining person couldn’t bear to leave their daughter alone to starve to death and decided to end both their lives before reaching the end, or if the daughter had been bitten first, and they couldn’t bear to let her turn into a monster. In any case, the surviving person had resorted to violence, taking the daughter’s life before their own.

The child was too young, so this process should have been quick. There was no sign of pain on her face; she appeared peaceful.

Fu Yan’s eyelid twitched, and he used the blanket to cover the girl’s face.

This was not the first tragedy, nor would it be the last. As long as this disaster continued, such incidents would occur again and again, until everyone became numb to it, until this method of dealing with the situation became a “norm”… until people lost all reverence for death.

Fu Yan turned back to the car. He casually ripped off a pillow from the back seat and used it to wipe away the bloodstains inside the car. After a thorough inspection, he finally sat in the driver’s seat.

He didn’t immediately start the car but instead contemplated the new contact in his phone’s address book, “Fang Sining.” After some thought, he scrolled down to a number labeled “003” and made the call.

The call was answered quickly, but the background noise was loud, and the call quality wasn’t great.

“Hello, Captain,” a capable female voice said on the other end. Before Fu Yan could respond, she continued, “Number One said you won’t be returning to resume your duties and asked us to assist you. What’s going on?”

“I have a mission,” Fu Yan replied. “Who’s in the response team?”

There was a moment of confusion on the other end, as if the person couldn’t understand why he was asking this. However, years of following orders led her to answer honestly, “No one else, just our team members: Peregrine, me, Long-eared Owl, Little Rabbit, and White-headed Kite.”

“About him…” Fu Yan began to speak but stopped himself. He furrowed his brow slightly, showing an unusual hesitation.

“What’s wrong?” The female voice detected his unease. “Is there something wrong with White-headed Kite?”

“Never mind, it’s nothing,” Fu Yan said. “just be prepared to follow orders.”