Chapter 22 The Life of Ordinary People
After passing through the relatively "relaxed" passage in Zone B and crossing the boundary guarded by soldiers that invisibly separates the crowd, you enter the true main part of the safe zone—the area where ordinary survivors gather.
This area occupies most of the space in the air-raid shelter and is the largest and most silent cornerstone that forms this post-apocalyptic island.
As soon as you step into this area, a strong, almost suffocating, mixed odor hits you.
Sweat, urine, the stench of festering wounds, the sour smell of unwashed bodies, and the aura of despair... all these mixed together to create an atmosphere so heavy it could bend your spine.
The sounds were no longer the restrained whispers and orderly footsteps of Zone B, but a mixture of countless noises: the heart-wrenching cries of babies, of which only a very few survived; the suppressed coughs of the elderly; the painful groans of patients; the low arguing over a little space or food; and much more—a deathly silence.
Thousands of people were crammed together, yet they seemed to have lost the ability to speak, leaving only numb breathing.
“Living” is a luxury word here.
There were no partitions, no mats, and not even a single, dry piece of floor.
People huddled together like sardines, sitting on the ground or huddled on the few tattered blankets they had brought with them. A family of several might only have one piece of clothing to keep warm, which they would share in turns.
The passageway was so narrow that only one person could pass sideways. The ground was perpetually wet and sticky, it was hard to tell whether it was from seeping moisture or some other kind of filth. In the dim light, the faces looked like dusty plaster statues, their eyes vacant and unfocused, existing only instinctively.
The daily food distribution is the only moment that can bring any "vitality" to the place.
The line snaked out from the distribution point, stretching as far as the eye could see. Each person received only a small piece of compressed biscuit, about the size of a fingertip, or a small bowl of thin porridge so watery you could see your reflection in it.
Water was strictly rationed, with each person receiving only a small sip per day, and chapped lips were the norm for everyone. For a scrap of food or a sip of extra water, even the most dignified people might abandon their dignity, beg desperately, or even fight amongst themselves.
Ruan Ning once witnessed a thin man being beaten and scolded by his wife for accidentally spilling her porridge. The man simply held his head and silently endured it. In the end, the couple hugged each other and wept silently amidst the numb gazes of those around them.
Not everyone has completely given up hope. Some ordinary people who are still physically strong or have a skill will try their best to find "work".
They helped the logistics department move supplies and clean up garbage, even though it was one of the most dangerous jobs, potentially involving contact with contaminated waste, or participating in the construction of the outermost, lowest-risk defensive fortifications, all just to earn even half a contribution point to exchange for a little more food or a clean cloth.
There were also mothers who saved their meager portions of food to feed their children little by little, while they themselves endured the cold by drinking water; there were young lovers who huddled together in despair, finding warmth in each other's body heat and faint memories of the past.
Disease is the most terrifying predator here. A minor cold or a seemingly insignificant scratch can quickly escalate into a deadly infection due to a lack of medical care and the harsh environment.
The medical ward is overcrowded, and priority is always given to soldiers and those with superpowers. Every morning, suppressed cries can be heard—meaning that someone else has missed seeing the sunrise.
The bodies were transported away and disposed of as quickly as possible. People had become accustomed to this and just watched silently, their eyes almost devoid of fear, leaving only a bottomless weariness.
They could see the occasional superhumans or key technical personnel walking by in the direction of Area B, dressed relatively neatly and looking much better. Their eyes would flash with a complex mix of emotions—envy, awe, and occasionally a hint of barely perceptible resentment.
That boundary delineates not only residential areas, but also opportunities for survival and possibilities for the future.
These ordinary people are the largest group in the apocalypse, and also the most silent background.
They struggled to survive with their most tenacious biological instincts, forming the fragile foundation of the safe zone and enduring the most suffering.
Every time Ruan Ning passed through this area, she could more deeply feel the cruelty of the apocalypse and how precious her own space and superpowers were.
This made her even more determined—she had to keep getting stronger in order to avoid falling back into that abyss of despair and to take control of her own destiny.
Days passed by in the oppressive air of the air-raid shelter.
Every day, new survivors, like a trickle of water, carrying their exhaustion and wounds, flow into this increasingly crowded "safe" harbor.
There's always a long queue at the registration desk, and the faces of newcomers are a mixture of relief at surviving the ordeal and bewilderment about the future.
Ruan Ning seemed to live her life in a routine manner—going to the logistics department to collect purified water, exchanging contribution points for necessities, occasionally going out on missions with Zhao Cheng's team to hunt for crystal cores, and returning to her cubicle to maintain a superficial peace and cautious transactions with her several ability-using roommates.
But she remained constantly on edge, her gaze like the most precise scanner, sweeping over every new face and capturing every name sent from the registration desk.
However, there was no Lin Jiaojiao, no Lin Wanyun, and no Ruan Chenyang.
The air-raid shelters were already overcrowded. The passageways that were once spacious were now filled with newcomers, the mixed smells in the air were even more nauseating, the friction over space and resources was becoming more frequent, and the soldiers' voices to maintain order were becoming increasingly hoarse and stern.
This underground space is approaching its limit.
Hope, after being dashed time and time again, is like a stone worn down by dripping water.
Ruan Ning leaned against the cold rock wall of the B-sector passage, listening to the continuous buzzing sound coming from outside, which belonged to the ordinary survivor area. Her eyes were calm as water, but a trace of barely perceptible anxiety flashed deep within them.
"Still looking for your family?" Zhou Min appeared beside her at some point, adjusted her glasses, and spoke with her usual keen insight, as if she could see right through people. She seemed to have noticed Ruan Ning's continued attention.
Ruan Ning did not deny it, but simply gave a faint "hmm".
“Name? Characteristics? Maybe I’ve heard something about it.” Zhou Min offered to help, whether out of habit of exchanging information or because of the slight camaraderie built up during their “water trade” period, it was unclear.
Ruan Ning announced the names of Lin Jiaojiao and Lin Wanyun, omitting Ruan Chenyang.
Zhou Min thought carefully for a moment, then shook her head: "I don't remember. Among the people who came in these past few days, there are definitely no people with those two names. And..." She paused, then lowered her voice, "As far as I know, Jiangzhou City is so big, and the temporary security zone established by the military isn't just ours."
Ruan Ning's pupils contracted almost imperceptibly. She had actually guessed this before, but now Zhou Min had pointed it out explicitly.
"Are there other safe zones?" she asked Zhou Min.
“Hmm.” Zhou Min nodded. “I heard that they also built one in the north of the city, relying on a large logistics center. It might be even larger than ours. There seems to be a small outpost in the east as well, but the situation is unclear. The information is tightly controlled, so I don’t know the exact location or situation.”
This news, like a stone thrown into stagnant water, stirred up waves in Ruan Ning's heart.
She had always limited her search to this air-raid shelter, simply because they had come here in their previous life.
The trajectory of her past life has changed. The opportunity for Lin Jiaojiao to snatch the bracelet ahead of time has disappeared due to her rebirth, and the fate of her family has taken an unknown turn from the moment the apocalypse arrived.
Did Lin Jiaojiao and the others not escape at all and perish in the sea of corpses? Or were they lucky enough to find another group of survivors, or even... reach another safe zone?
“Dead, or gone somewhere else…” Ruan Ning repeated these two possibilities in a low voice. Either way, it meant that her strategy of waiting in this air-raid shelter might need to be adjusted.
Staying here would certainly allow for relatively safe improvement of strength, but the goal of revenge might never be reached.
"Thank you," Ruan Ning said to Zhou Min, her tone revealing no emotion.
Zhou Min glanced at her, seemingly wanting to say something, but in the end just patted her on the shoulder: "It's good that you're alive, try to think positively." Then she turned and left.
Ruan Ning stood alone in the same spot, the dim light casting intermittent shadows on her face.
She needs to reassess and needs more information about the exact location, size, and access requirements of other security zones... Perhaps she should try to reach higher-level military personnel or take advantage of missions to explore clues in more distant areas.
Waiting is no longer the only option.
If the prey does not appear near the trap, then the hunter should take the initiative to find a new hunting ground.
Jiangzhou City is vast, and the post-apocalyptic world is chaotic, but as long as those few people are still alive, she will find them one day.
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