For a while, they traveled in relative silence.
After a moment, Hayes glanced back at him. Whether he was still annoyed or not was unclear, but his tone was stiff. "Are you from Creek City?"
So the personal questions were starting.
Albert hesitated for a beat, then lightly touched his chin. "No."
"Family from out of town?" Hayes pressed on, missing the flicker of unease across Albert's face. "Where are they? Were you together when the Collapse hit?"
Albert shook his head without hesitation. "My parents have been gone a long time. I've been on my own."
After what had happened the night before, he'd expected Hayes would eventually ask about his background. Knowing nothing about the original owner of this body, Albert had no choice but to blend details from his own past life—mixing truth and half-truths.
There was some basis for his story. The original Albert had frozen to death by the roadside. Even if he'd had family or companions, they were likely gone too.
And if there were relatives somewhere in this chaotic apocalypse, the chances of ever crossing paths were slim. No need to worry about the lie being exposed.
Hayes was silent for a beat. "Sorry."
Albert blinked, slightly surprised by the apology. "It's fine."
After another pause, Hayes shifted the topic. "Are you a plant-type variant?"
This was the question he'd really been holding back.
Yesterday, Hayes had been too distracted by that scent to think clearly.
But later, upon reflection, things didn't add up.
The fragrance clinging to Albert wasn't like any perfume. It lingered, persistent and unwavering, as if… it was coming from his very blood.
Plant-type variant—that had been Hayes' first thought.
But ordinary variants usually gave off a distinct energy signature, and Hayes had sensed almost nothing from Albert.
It was puzzling.
Albert blinked, caught off guard.
…How was he supposed to know?
Before Hayes had even mentioned it, he hadn't known plant-type variants existed in this world.
Hesitating, he offered, "Should I be one?"
A faint, self-deprecating smile touched his lips.
Hayes was momentarily rendered speechless.
Albert's smile widened slightly. "I really don't know."
And, truly, he didn't.
He knew perfectly well that the scent surrounding him was his gardenia pheromones—something he'd carried for over twenty years in his previous life. There was no mistaking it.
But this world didn't operate on that system, and the original body shouldn't emit any pheromonal scent at all.
Albert discreetly touched the back of his neck. The familiar shape of subcutaneous glands was gone.
So why did the fragrance persist?
Could it be, as Hayes suggested, that this world had adapted his personal traits from the previous one, turning him into some kind of plant-type variant?
It was a plausible explanation.
But still…
While Albert was lost in thought, Hayes was thinking as well.
"I haven't met many plant-type variants," Hayes said, "but your case isn't impossible. I once encountered a teenage shifter variant—small, physically weak. His transformation was much slower than others. At first, only his canine teeth grew longer and sharper. Later, fur gradually appeared, until he achieved full transformation. So you—"
Hayes narrowed his beautifully shaped eyes, giving Albert an unreadable once-over.
He didn't finish the sentence, but the implication was clear: even a child had managed better than a grown adult.
Albert: "…" He was momentarily speechless.
He needed a moment to process this new reality.
So… had he actually become a catnip plant?
Great. His resurrected life had just gotten even more surreal.
Albert took a deep breath and let out a laugh.
"If it's really as you say, then does my transformation start with my whole body turning green, and leaves sprouting from my head and limbs? Sounds… amusing."
"…" Hayes said dryly, "You're quite optimistic."
"What choice do I have? I'd love to be an impressive shifter too, but fate had other plans," Albert shrugged.
Perhaps this was one of those "when God closes a door, he opens a window" situations.
Though he'd been dumped alone into this perilous post-apocalyptic world, he'd also been freed from his illness—given a healthy body, capable of running and jumping freely. Something he'd never dared dream of in his past life.
But maybe, just his luck, even in the apocalypse, the ability he'd awakened was utterly useless.
Catnip it is, then. He could only comfort himself with that. At least cats liked it.
After talking with Hayes for a while, Albert felt himself relax. His tone grew lighter.
He found conversing with Hayes… surprisingly interesting. Though aloof, the man wasn't brooding or difficult.
The procession continued forward, a formidable sight.
Hayes' unit wasn't large—just over fifty personnel—but it included a high percentage of variants, with more than a dozen shifters among them.
They didn't need vehicles. A few members shifting into their beast forms was enough; a single large creature could carry over a hundred kilograms of supplies, and its back could seat people too.
The sight was undeniably impressive.
As they neared the city center, signs of human activity gradually increased.
The weather was bitterly cold, temperatures dropping well below zero. Buildings felt damp and freezing, forcing many to huddle around fires lit along the streets.
When these unfamiliar visitors and their massive beasts appeared, fear flickered across everyone's faces.
Hayes didn't seem to notice. Passing by one fire, he addressed the group abruptly: "Excuse me, how many hospitals are there in the city?"
After a moment of silence, the man who appeared oldest and most authoritative stood, looking up at the nearly two-meter-tall white wolf and the figures on its back.
"Where are you from? Haven't seen you before."
"From the south," Hayes replied. "Stopping here to rest a few days, leaving soon."
"If only we could leave," the man said with a bitter smile, stroking the stubble on his chin. "Looking for medical supplies, I suppose? A word of advice—don't bother. Anything useful was cleaned out long ago by Jameson's group. Going there is pointless. Same for supermarkets, shopping centers… nothing left."
Hayes' expression remained unchanged, unsurprised.
Two months into the apocalypse, enough had happened to make such scarcity expected. Any supplies arriving now would likely have been claimed by the city's factions.
"Thanks. One more question—where is the military garrison here?" Hayes asked.
The man's face shifted instantly. He didn't answer immediately, glancing between Hayes and Albert as if weighing their intentions.
After a few seconds, he asked, "You're military?"
He had already sensed this group wasn't ordinary civilians; they carried a discipline uncommon in most people. Despite wearing assorted civilian clothes and carrying various packs, their order within chaos was unmistakable.
Moreover, they had several shifters among them. Such a composition allowed them to move through the city like a well-oiled unit—ordinary people simply couldn't.
"Yes," Hayes replied after a moment, seeing no need to hide it.
Stopping in Creek City hadn't been planned, but Hayes felt it necessary to establish contact with the local military. Any chance to secure supplies was worth pursuing.
Unexpectedly, the man waved dismissively. "It's useless. There's no military left. On the third day of the apocalypse, Creek City's garrison… collapsed."
"Collapsed?" Hayes asked, raising an eyebrow.
The man gestured. "Sank into the ground. A huge hole appeared out of nowhere, and the entire military-government base fell underground. Walls shattered into pieces."
He paused to catch his breath. "Several places in Creek City experienced this, but the military site was worst. Overnight, such a massive structure just… vanished from the surface."
The subordinates exchanged uneasy glances.
On the Arctic wolf's back, Hayes looked back at Albert, both sensing something was off.
"What about the military personnel?" Hayes asked quietly. They couldn't all have been crushed, could they? That would be catastrophically unlucky.
Though unspoken, the thought hovered in everyone's minds.
The man shook his head. "Don't know. In the early days, this city was a living hell. Plants and animals evolved wildly, becoming aggressive beyond reason. I've seen mutated rats the size of cars, ivy that tore through and collapsed entire buildings. Dangerous creatures emerged everywhere. The military sent wave after wave to exterminate them. Things were manageable… until that incident."
He paused, his eyes betraying awe and fear.
"They tried to activate the underground bunker beneath the military-government complex. But… it seems some powerful mutated organism had taken hold inside. The first team sent to open it disappeared. Squad after squad followed—none returned."