Chai Yuening had always known that anyone who could survive in the depths of the Fog Zone definitely possessed extraordinary skills.
But having grown accustomed to Chu Ci’s quiet demeanor, she had indeed somewhat forgotten that this was the person she had rescued from the Fog Zone.
This was the first time she had seen Chu Ci fire a gun.
Her hand was steady, her aim true.
The muzzle was aimed at her own kind, yet her gaze was so calm that one couldn’t detect a trace of struggle in her.
The seemingly petite young girl appeared to exude an intangible air of authority.
Without needing any verbal intimidation, just by raising the gun and standing there quietly, she made it impossible for anyone to ignore her, let alone act rashly.
One armed person had taken a stand, which prompted many of the still-hesitant mercenaries to also tighten their grip on their weapons.
The unarmed, incensed crowd calmed down.
Their anger, their resistance—it was all just because they were afraid of death.
So at this very moment, no one dared to bet on whether a person with that kind of gaze would fire again.
Everyone was afraid the next bullet would hit them.
“Executing all infected individuals is an order from the main city’s military! Protecting every uninfected person is also an order from the main city’s military! Not a single security officer in the Sixth District would ever kill the innocent wantonly! If we needed no reason to kill, we would have opened fire the moment you crossed the cordon, not waited for you to snatch our guns and press them against us!” Cheng Shan shouted, his weary eyes bloodshot. His voice was powerful and resonant, yet tinged with a helpless restraint. “Whether you believe it or not, I can guarantee with my life that anyone who shows no signs of infection after six tests can all go home!”
The chief security officer’s voice echoed throughout the waiting hall.
A silent stillness lasted for an unknown length of time.
Someone, trembling and choking back sobs, voiced the words suppressed in their heart: “But… being infected doesn’t mean you’ll mutate… So many people, they could have had a chance to live.”
“According to the data transmitted from the Fifth District before they lost contact, the mutants that have appeared this time are extremely infectious and have a very high mutation rate. The method of infection could be as simple as a scratch that doesn’t even draw blood, and the time from infection to mutation can be as short as half an hour. With so many infected individuals, if they were to mutate simultaneously—whether here or during a transfer—the consequences of failing to kill even one in time and letting the infection spread would be unimaginable! Moreover, a tiny wound can cause infection, and these minor wounds have an incubation period of two to six hours. If the injured person keeps quiet about it, it’s impossible to detect! The Base’s Fifth District… that’s how it fell…” As he spoke, Cheng Shan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “If there were a better option, the Base would not have made such a decision.”
The district security officers were meant to maintain order in the city districts. Many of them had never been to the surface, never seen a mutated beast, and certainly never killed their own kind.
But on this day, they were all forced to become executioners following orders.
Perhaps outside this waiting hall, the thousands upon thousands who had never been so close to death could still believe and understand these words.
But at this very moment, for these people standing by the pools of their kinsmen’s blood, it was destined to be difficult to find peace.
Because they had witnessed a slaughter by gunfire.
They knew that these uniformed guardians protected the Sixth District, protected the Base, protected humanity.
It was just that this protection was one for which anything could be sacrificed.
The silent standoff continued for an unknown length of time.
A security officer threw down his gun, covered his face, and collapsed to his knees, emotionally breaking down.
That bout of suffocatingly repressed weeping shattered the tautly stretched string in everyone’s heart.
The calmed passengers returned to their designated quarantine areas.
Corpse after corpse, their eyes unable to close in peace, were carried away from this place with the help of the mercenaries, sent for disinfection and cremation.
Cheng Shan was still uneasy and hoped Chai Yuening would wait until after the results of the six tests were out before leaving.
He was worried there might be an infected person among the remaining crowd who was currently undetectable, who could then unknowingly infect others. If a second execution by firing squad became necessary, the public outrage it would incite would be even greater than before.
Chai Yuening understood his concern, as such a situation was indeed possible. So she suppressed her anxiety and chose to stay and observe a while longer.
When everything had settled down, Chu Ci sat in a corner, far from the crowd.
From time to time, assessing gazes were cast her way—filled with admiration, fear, or loathing.
But she paid them no mind, merely lowering her head to toy with the gun in her hands.
After helping to deal with the last of the bodies, Chai Yuening walked slowly over to Chu Ci and sat down beside her. She hesitated to speak several times, finally glancing at the gun in Chu Ci’s hands, pointing at it, and clearing her throat with some awkwardness. “Um, is it working out for you?”
Chu Ci lowered her gaze and nodded with an “Mm.”
Chai Yuening: “Your marksmanship is pretty good. How long have you been practicing?”
Chu Ci: “I forgot.”
Chai Yuening: “Forgot… you forgot.”
Chu Ci: “…”
Chai Yuening took a deep breath, leaned forward slightly, clasped her hands in front of her, and forced a smile. “Thank you,” she said softly.
Chu Ci pressed her lips together and asked in a low voice, “For what?”
“Actually, that first shot should have been mine,” Chai Yuening said. “After everything is over, if the survivors need someone to hate, it should be me, or the security officers who stood here today.”
Chu Ci: “I don’t care about that.”
Chai Yuening: “So many people care, so many people were hesitating. Why don’t you care?”
Chu Ci: “Because I knew you would do the same.”
Chai Yuening: “Then why did you beat me to it?”
Chu Ci thought for a moment, then said very calmly, “You care. So it was better for me to do it.”
Chai Yuening was momentarily speechless.
She was silent for a long time before gently placing her palm over the back of Chu Ci’s hand.
“Once the six tests are over and it’s safe here, we’ll go to the Fifth District.”
“Mm.”
Chai Yuening gazed at Chu Ci, her thoughts uncontrollably drifting. Just what kind of person was this girl she had picked up from the Fog Zone?
She wanted to ask, but in the end, she didn’t.
She and Chu Ci sat in the exceptionally oppressive waiting hall, eating the bread and water handed to them by the security officers, waiting as time ticked by, second by second.
The digital clock read 21:18.
The passengers in the waiting hall were even escorted by security officers to use the restroom.
Under such strict guard, they underwent test after test according to regulations, and so far, not a single person had shown any sign of infection.
Chai Yuening couldn’t help but think that if they could just get through the final test at ten o’clock, the risk in the Sixth District would be resolved.
She stared intently at the digital clock, as if watching it constantly would make the time pass more easily.
But just then, a bloodcurdling scream came from the public restroom not far away.
“What’s going on!” someone asked in a panic.
Chai Yuening stood up and looked toward the source of the scream.
A passenger with a terrified expression came scrambling out of the restroom.
He screamed for help, running for his life in their direction.
In the next second, countless gun muzzles were pointed warily at him, but before he had time to explain himself, a pitch-black scorpion tail pierced through his chest.
The moment the scorpion tail was withdrawn, he fell stiffly to the ground.
Blood flowed from the wound, staining the smooth floor tiles.
A mutated beast stood on the man’s back, its four front legs pinning his body down.
No one had seen how fast it had charged out.
Its lizard-like eyes, like a predator coveting its prey, stared coldly at the quarantined crowd in the distance.
Its sharp, blood-reddened tail glistened eerily under the incandescent lights of the station’s ceiling.
Tattered pieces of human clothing, stretched to the breaking point, hung from the mutated beast’s body.
It was none other than a security officer’s uniform.
Someone had been injured but had hidden it and not reported it!
“Fire!” someone roared.
Gunshots rang out. The mutated beast leaped sideways to dodge them, then turned and lunged toward the crowd.
Author’s Notes:
Chai Yuening: Whatever I think about, something bad happens. How dare I say anything?
