The faint morning light cast a bleak, gray pall over the dead streets. Lu Zhao hugged the shadows along the hostel's outer wall, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. For the first time, he stood alone amidst this ruin—without Gu Xun's calm command, without Jiang Jin's violent yet effective clearing of the area. There was only himself and the cold steel pipe in his hand.
Wind-element abilities flowed silently around him, relaying the slightest fluctuations within dozens of meters—a faint stench of decay behind the trash bin to his left, at least two slow-moving creatures in the shop ahead and to his right... Information that had once been supplementary now became his sole lifeline.
His objective was clear: the convenience store across the street, its door smashed open.
Taking a deep breath, Lu Zhao moved. Like a shadow skimming the ground, he used abandoned vehicles and collapsed billboards as cover, moving swiftly and silently. The wind ruffled the strands of hair at his forehead, carrying clearer information—the entrance to the convenience store was temporarily safe.
He darted inside.
Inside was even darker than outside. Shelves lay askew, the floor littered with shards of glass, crushed packaging, and dried, blackened bloodstains. A sickening stench assaulted his nostrils—a mix of rotting food and some cloyingly sweet, putrid odor.
Lu Zhao held his breath, pushing his wind perception to its limit. Near the cash register, there was movement—faint, but undeniable. Gripping the steel pipe tightly, he cautiously navigated around the collapsed shelves, edging closer.
A half-eaten zombie, its body reduced to a mangled husk, dragged its intestines across the floor in a slow crawl. Hearing the sound, it lifted its head, its cloudy eyes turning toward Lu Zhao as it emitted a low, guttural growl.
Lu Zhao hesitated not a moment. With a flick of his wrist, a condensed wind blade shot forth, precisely severing the creature's last nerve connection. The half-body twitched twice before falling utterly still.
Clean and decisive. He was even surprised by his own composure. Was it fear that had unlocked his potential, or had the trials of this journey already forged him into someone different?
There was no time for reflection. He immediately began searching. The food shelves had been completely stripped bare, not even a crumb left. Crouching low, he rummaged through the bottom layers of tilted shelves and the cracks in the corners. When his fingertips brushed against several dust-covered tins that had rolled out, he nearly wept with joy. Fruit preserves! Sugar and water!
He quickly stuffed these precious cans into his backpack. Next came water. The refrigerator door stood wide open, its interior completely bare. Refusing to give up, he dashed to the small storage room in the back and finally found several scattered bottles of mineral water, their packaging dampened, in a damaged cardboard box tucked in a corner. He checked them—two bottles were still sealed.
Just as he prepared to pack the water, his wind-sensing ability suddenly sounded an alarm—something was entering through the back door of the convenience store! Not just one, and moving fast!
Lu Zhao's hair stood on end. Abandoning his search, he zipped up his backpack and turned to flee through the front door.
But it was too late.
Three figures blocked the doorway. Not zombies, but living men. Two were tall and burly, one relatively slight. All wore filthy clothes, wielding sharpened rebar and machetes. Their eyes were cloudy, filled with raw malice and greed as they stared at him and the backpack slung over his shoulder like prey.
"Hey kid, you got lucky finding something," the leader, a man with a scar across his face, grinned, revealing yellowed teeth. "Drop the pack, and we might let you walk."
Lu Zhao's heart sank. His worst fear had materialized. Clutching the steel pipe, he took a half-step back, his back pressed against a crooked shelf as his mind raced. Outnumbered three to one, fighting them head-on offered almost no chance of victory. His wind blades worked against slow-moving zombies, but against three prepared adults, their effectiveness was unknown.
"I... I only have this little bit. Take it, let me go." He tried to negotiate, his voice dry with tension.
"Hah, you're pretty smart," the scarred man sneered, though the greed in his eyes remained undimmed. "Throw the bag over here. Then, strip down. No hiding anything."
Lu Zhao knew that even if he complied, they likely wouldn't spare him. In the apocalypse, eliminating a potential competitor was the most natural logic.
His peripheral vision scanned the surroundings, searching for an opening. The warehouse was a dead end. The only way out was the main gate—but it was blocked.
"Hurry up!" another burly man impatiently swung his machete.
Just as tensions reached a breaking point, deep within the convenience store—beside the half-zombie Lu Zhao had dispatched—a back door leading to the alley behind, which had been ajar, suddenly swung open violently! A clawed hand covered in dark blue-black scales shoved it wide!
A slender, lizard-like mutant creature, moving on all fours, slid silently inside! It seemed drawn by the commotion here, or perhaps the faint sound of Lu Zhao dispatching the zombie earlier.
Its appearance instantly shattered the standoff.
"Damn it! What the hell is that?!" The scrawny man spotted it first and shrieked in terror.
Scarface and the other burly man whipped around, their expressions turning grim at the sight of the eerie mutant.
Now!
Without hesitation, Lu Zhao instinctively channeled all his wind-element abilities into his legs and lunged sideways!
"Whoosh—"
Air currents erupted beneath his feet, propelling him forward with tremendous force. Instead of charging straight for the door, he darted like a ghost toward the collapsed shelving nearby. His toes caught the edge of the metal frame, launching him into the air. He flipped over the two burly men, clearing them by a mere foot!
"Dammit! Don't let him get away!" Scarface snapped to attention, roaring as he lunged forward, only to grab at thin air.
Lu Zhao landed, stumbled once, then sprinted toward the brightly lit street outside without looking back!
Behind him came the excited hissing of the mutated creatures, the man's furious curses, terrified screams, and the clang of fighting. He didn't look back, running for his life toward the hostel at the fastest pace he'd ever mustered.
His heart pounded like it would burst from his throat, his lungs burned fiercely, but he dared not stop. Only after bursting through the inn's front door, racing up the stairs to the second floor, opening the door with trembling hands, quickly locking it behind him, and bracing his back firmly against the door did he dare to gasp for breath.
Cold sweat drenched his back.
Slumping to the floor, he tremblingly unzipped his backpack—two fruit cans, two bottles of water. That was everything he'd risked his life to bring back.
He glanced at Gu Xun, still unconscious on the bed. A wave of fear, relief, and profound helplessness washed over him.
Going it alone proved far more dangerous than he'd imagined. And this world was forcing him to grow up fast, in the cruelest way possible.