Suppressed coughs rose and fell from all directions, dry and hoarse, carrying a sense of utter devastation...
Although their group of several dozen people made a very slight noise as they entered, no one curiously peeked out from the shacks on both sides of the road, except for the uncontrollable coughs and groans.
There were no whispers, no frightened inquiries, only a deathly silence, a numb obedience.
It's as if whatever happens outside has nothing to do with them, or that they have long since lost the ability and courage to care about the outside world.
The road was eerily deserted, with only their shadows swaying in the breeze...
Lu Nange led the group straight to a shack near the edge.
Perhaps it was because Lu Nange and her group's overly clean and neat black combat uniforms clashed with the filthy and dirty environment...
Just as they approached, the figure huddled on the haystack closest to the door suddenly jolted and sprang up!
He was a man whose age was hard to discern; his hair was dirty and matted, his cheeks were deeply sunken, his eyes were dark, and his lips were chapped.
He didn't even dare to look up to see the person's face clearly. Instinctively, he bent over sharply, almost breaking his back, his voice trembling with extreme fear and humility.
"M-Sir! What are your orders? I...I am at your service!"
As he moved and spoke, the other figures in the shed, like startled birds, hurriedly struggled to their feet. All were men, emaciated, bent over deeply, afraid to look up, their bodies trembling slightly with fear...
By the dim light outside the shed, everyone could see the appearance of these survivors.
What they called "clothing" could hardly be called clothes; they were just tattered strips of cloth barely hanging on their bodies, leaving them exposed and covered in wounds.
It wasn't just the old and new purplish-red bruises and cracks left by whipping; there were also some obviously branding iron burns, hideous and twisted scars, like ugly centipedes crawling all over their arms, backs and even cheeks.
Most of them were barefoot, their feet turning purple and cracked as they walked on the cold, filthy ground.
Everyone's eyes were empty and lifeless, bearing the marks of long-term malnutrition, overwork, and unspeakable suffering...
This scene was more impactful than any words...
This is not a survivor camp; it is a livestock pen where everything, including life and dignity, can be taken away at any time.
Chi Yanzhou: "Stand up and reply."
The man trembled and almost used both hands and feet to straighten up slightly, but his head remained lowered, and his gaze only dared to fall on the tips of Chi Yanzhou's boots.
"Sir...may I ask you..."
Chi Yanzhou did not immediately inquire about the laboratory and its internal situation, but instead looked at Wen Qing first.
Wen Qing suppressed the tremor in his voice, took half a step forward, and tried his best to make his tone sound calm, but his urgency still showed.
"Has anyone heard of these three names: Wen Jinsheng, Zhang Mei, and Wen Jing?"
The man standing at the front paused for a moment, seemingly not expecting such a question. He tried to search his meager memories in fear, then shook his head in terror.
"M-Sir...I'm sorry...I've never heard of those three names before..."
He was terrified that his answer would bring punishment, and his body trembled even more violently.
Lu Nange's gaze swept over the survivors behind the man, who were still bowing their heads: "And you? Has anyone heard of this?"
The group of people shuddered as if they had been whipped, and hurriedly answered in voices trembling with sobs.
"Sir...no!"
"Never heard of it..."
Wen Qing's heart sank lower and lower, but she was unwilling to give up: "Think about it again! Think about it carefully! Wen Jinsheng, Zhang Mei, Wen Jing!"
Lu Nange and Gu Wan gently supported her body from either side.
The leader explained in a voice barely audible, "Sir...we remember that we don't have names after entering the base!"
We only address each other by our numerical codes... We... we don't dare to greet each other by name in private... really..."
His explanation was filled with helplessness and a deeper fear.
These words were like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing most of the embers of hope in Wen Qing's heart...
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