owlsbooks Chapter 4 The Escape Begins
Chapter 4 The Escape Begins
"Everyone! Rise! Line up!"
It was Zhao Lie's voice.
Jiang Che suddenly woke up with a start.
He didn't know when he fell asleep; he only felt the pain in his shoulder wound.
He used the steel bars to support himself as he stood up and saw everyone in the square scrambling to their feet. Some were carrying backpacks, some were holding children, and some had lost their shoes and were groping around in the dark.
Zhao Lie stood on top of an overturned truck, holding a powerful flashlight in his hand, the beam sweeping across everyone's face.
"Strange traces of mid-level beings have been discovered three miles to the north; at least three of them. We can't stay here any longer. We must set off within ten minutes and continue north. Anyone who falls behind is responsible for their own actions."
Mid-level strangeness.
Jiang Che's heart sank to the bottom.
He could barely deal with low-level Shadow Demons with temporary enhancements, but mid-level ones—that was a completely different level.
A single mid-level Shadow Demon can wipe out half a caravan, and three... Zhao Lie's decision to travel overnight indicates that he is not confident in facing them head-on.
The only way to survive is to run.
Su Qingyuan had already stood up.
Her movements were much faster than Jiang Che's, as if the fatigue and pain she had just experienced were simply a switch that could be turned off at any time.
"You stay with me." Su Qingyuan glanced at him sideways. "Don't fall behind."
Jiang Che nodded and glanced at Su Qingyuan's back.
"Let's go," Su Qingyuan said.
Jiang Che followed.
They didn't speak, but Jiang Che noticed something—Su Qingyuan deliberately slowed down her walking pace.
It wasn't that she could only walk this fast, but that she was waiting for his pace.
His right knee ached terribly with every step, but she always walked less than a meter ahead of him on the left, at a moderate pace, just at the very edge of his ability to keep up.
There was no turning around, no looking back, no "hurry up" or "are you okay?"
She simply adjusted her speed to a level he could handle, and then silently continued walking forward.
Jiang Che looked at the back of her head, and for some reason, his nose felt a little sore.
In the apocalypse, a person's willingness to slow down for you is more meaningful than saying "I'll protect you" a thousand times.
"Su Qingyuan's favorability towards the host increases by 3 x 2. Current favorability value: 35, intimacy level: 7."
The beams of torches and flashlights lit up.
Jiang Che dragged his right leg, stepping slowly on the broken pavement.
Zhao Lie's promise to "depart in ten minutes" was eventually delayed to twenty minutes.
It wasn't that he changed his mind, it's just that the line was moving too slowly.
The old man strapped the child to his back, the man slung all his belongings over his shoulder, and leaned on a hastily whittled wooden stick. In the darkness, they were like a herd of frightened migrating animals, desperately, disheveled, and recklessly heading north.
But the speed still couldn't pick up.
It's not that I don't want to walk fast, it's that I can't walk fast anymore.
The long journey of seventeen consecutive days had pushed everyone's physical strength to the limit.
Some people developed blisters on the soles of their feet. The blisters would burst and then be rubbed again, with the flesh and blood sticking to their socks. Every step they took left a small, dark mark on the gravel road.
Someone had a low-grade fever, unfocused eyes, and unsteady steps; they only managed to stay upright by being held up by those around them.
Jiang Che walked behind Su Qingyuan, his right knee throbbing with pain from time to time.
His left shoulder was also hurting, but it was better than yesterday—the ointment Su Qingyuan applied had worked, and at least it had stopped bleeding.
But his problem was more fundamental: he had no energy left.
Yesterday's temporary enhancement to unleash the Shadow Demon not only depleted his favorability points, but also consumed the last bit of energy reserves in his body.
Today he only ate a small piece of compressed rations that had been sitting for who knows how long, and drank half a pot of water. This amount of calories is not enough to sustain an adult man on a forced march for several hours.
His steps slowed down more and more.
It's not that you're being lazy; it's your body protecting itself. When energy is depleted, muscles automatically reduce their power output.
"Hurry up," Su Qingyuan said without turning her head.
Jiang Che gritted his teeth and quickened his pace, but he only managed to keep going for less than two minutes before slowing down again.
His breathing became rapid.
The sweat on my forehead wasn't hot, it was cold—cold sweat.
This is a sign that your body is about to break down.
Su Qingyuan finally turned around.
She glanced at him, frowned slightly, and then slowed her pace.
It wasn't just a little slower; it dropped directly to the same pace as him.
Their positions changed from her in front of him to him behind her, and now they are side by side.
Jiang Che, panting, turned his head to look at her.
The firelight and moonlight intertwined on her profile, making her cheeks rosy.
"You don't need to wait for me," Jiang Che said, his voice weak.
"I didn't wait for you." Su Qingyuan looked ahead without shifting her gaze. "I'm tired and want to slow down."
One of the superpowered individuals said she was tired from walking.
Jiang Che didn't say anything more.
He lowered his head and continued walking forward, his ears turning red again.
It wasn't because he was cold, but because he knew she was lying, and he knew she knew he knew.
In the apocalypse, this unspoken understanding leaves people more helpless than any sweet words.
"Su Qingyuan's favorability towards the host increases by 2 x 2. Current favorability value: 33, intimacy level: 7."
The line stretched longer and longer into the night.
The people in front walked fast, and the people behind couldn't keep up, leaving a large gap in the middle of the line.
The armed men in the rearguard began to get impatient—they were responsible for protecting the rear, but if the column stretched too far, their defensive line would be thinned, and they would be the ones to die.
"Slow down, those in front!" Liu Cheng shouted from behind.
But we can't hear anything from the front.
Or rather, they hear it but ignore it.
Those at the front of the group were in relatively good condition; they only wanted to reach the White Stone base as quickly as possible and wouldn't slow down for those who fell behind.
The rule of the post-apocalyptic convoy: whoever falls behind dies.
Jiang Che knew this pattern, Su Qingyuan knew it, and everyone in the team knew it.
But when this pattern is presented to everyone in the most direct and bloody way, the impact is still devastating.
The incident occurred around 3 a.m.
The group passed through an abandoned urban area.
On both sides were collapsed residential buildings, and the road was blocked by rubble and rusted vehicle debris, forcing everyone to walk through the ruins.
This greatly slowed down the pace and created a gap in the rear guard's perimeter.
The one who fell behind was an old man.
He was about sixty years old, with completely white hair, and carried a tattered woven bag on his back containing all his belongings—a few changes of clothes, a family photo, and a bag of candy that he couldn't bear to eat even if it melted.
He originally had several family members, but they all died one by one during the three years of the apocalypse, leaving him all alone in the end.
He walked at the very back of the group, even behind Jiang Che.
The rear guard line was originally 30 meters behind him, but when they passed through the ruined city, the guard line was broken as the column twisted and turned through the ruins.
For about two minutes, no armed personnel could see him.
Two minutes. That's enough.
The lurking monster didn't attack from afar, but rather emerged from the ruins themselves.
A low-level Shadow Ghost, smaller and thinner than the ones encountered before, like a black paper cutout pasted on a wall, with almost no thickness.
It lay motionless in the shadow of the collapsed building, waiting for its prey to enter its attack range.
It moved as the old man walked past it.
It's not a pounce, it's a wrap.
The shadowy figure peeled off the wall like a large net, instantly enveloping the old man from head to toe.
There was no sound—the old man didn't even have time to shout.
His mouth was sealed by the shadowy figure, and all his fear and pain turned into a silent struggle.
He thrashed about, his fingernails scratching pale marks on the gravel road, but the eerie form filled his mouth and nose, penetrating deep into his lungs.