Chapter 7#

The Future#

They didn’t leave the school rashly. Even Gu Cheng wasn’t all that familiar with this place—it hadn’t been their turf in his past life.

Besides, the area around the school didn’t have any buildings that looked remotely safe. Across the road was a residential district with old, run-down six-story apartment buildings. Who knew what might be lurking in those shadowy stairwells? The scattered small restaurants, grocery stores, and clothing shops were already deserted. Some windows and doors had been smashed in; others were tightly shut.

The narrow, grimy alley to the right of the school, usually bustling with noise and the aroma of all kinds of food, was now eerily silent. Occasional mysterious cat cries or dog barks echoed through it.

Places like schools never lacked stray dogs and cats, especially stray cats. Animals were just like humans—after the radiation, they either died or had their genes corrupted, turning into mindless Devourers or Evolvers far stronger than before.

Unlike humans, even the Evolvers among animals were generally as dangerous as the Devourers.

So, relatively speaking, the school itself seemed safer.

Gu Cheng, Zhao Yanzhi, and Zhao Wanzhi hid in the library. This was Gu Cheng’s choice. “No need to pack. Just put the entire bookshelf into the backpack,” he said. “Pick and choose. Bookshelves can’t be stacked.”

The backpack’s slots were limited, so they had to be selective.

Discarding useless literary works, they mostly focused on science bookshelves. By sheer luck, Gu Cheng discovered a locked archive room and claimed an entire shelf of ancient texts… though most were reproductions. After all, it was just a school library; originals wouldn’t be stored here. Still, school libraries had one advantage: plenty of reference books on science.

“What’s the use of these?” Zhao Wanzhi didn’t understand. It was just as strange as Gu Cheng’s insistence on raiding jewelry and jade stores earlier. What good were these in the apocalypse?

Gu Cheng smiled. “They’ll come in handy later.”

Zhao Yanzhi stood by the window, staring thoughtfully into the darkness outside. “This school must have had pretty good greenery before, right?”

“Yes,” Gu Cheng walked over. “But now it’s starting to look desolate, isn’t it?”

“Mm.”

Actually, cities had the same problem. This parallel world’s cities weren’t much different from theirs—greenery should have been decent—but now, day by day, they were withering.

Even if plants evolved, they mostly retained their outward appearance. The dead ones would never revive.

Zhao Yanzhi had studied medicine and was good at biology. A suspicion formed in his mind, and he looked at Gu Cheng. “Have the plants lost the ability to reproduce?”

Gu Cheng’s lips curled. He knew Zhao Yanzhi was sharp about certain things.

“Exactly. Radiatiated plants, even if they survive, have drastically reduced reproductive abilities.” Unlike humans, where about one in ten could withstand radiation, plants had the weakest resistance. Hardly any plant could escape the damage from this radiation. Animals fared much better.

For plants, the outcome was roughly twofold: either die or evolve through radiation.

Even New Humans had low fertility rates, but plants were worse off. Plants that used to have short cycles and could be mass-grown were gone. The surviving evolved plants lived longer but had almost lost the ability to reproduce. New plants would become extremely rare—a terrifying consequence.

Without Gu Cheng needing to say more, his and Zhao Yanzhi’s exchange made Zhao Wanzhi shudder. “So, slowly, this world will become barren?”

She really hadn’t realized the apocalypse could become that horrifying.

After all, there weren’t any zombies, right? Devourers were strong and ate anything, but they still had human forms. Plus, a bite didn’t cause infection—so it should be better than the apocalypses in novels and movies.

But a world barren and lifeless—how would humans survive in the end?

“Animals too, probably. It’ll be hard for any young to be born,” Zhao Yanzhi said slowly.

Gu Cheng sighed. “Similar to humans, but fewer animals can withstand radiation. In this apocalypse, even if ordinary animals survive, they’ll struggle to live. And evolved animals… have basically lost their reproductive abilities.”

So, it would be a world growing desolate day by day: fewer humans, fewer animals, fewer plants. Where would food come from after that?

Just thinking about it made Zhao Wanzhi shiver involuntarily.

“Then… what do we do?”

Gu Cheng laughed. “Don’t worry. Heaven never seals off all exits. The destination I’ve set is humanity’s glimmer of hope. Relax. In my last life, we stayed here for ten years and lived well. We even got to vacation from time to time.”

Zhao Wanzhi: “…” Is this really the time for jokes?

Zhao Yanzhi couldn’t help glancing at Gu Cheng. He didn’t think Gu Cheng was deliberately hiding things—it was probably just hard to explain. Better to just go there and see. So he stopped asking.

The library was pitch black. The power had long been cut, and the moon was dim tonight, so almost no light came through the windows. To ordinary people, it was so dark they couldn’t see their own hands.

New Human evolution wasn’t limited to physical strength. In such darkness, as long as one was a New Human, their visual ability was enhanced—they could see things vaguely. Over time, this night vision would improve further.

For lighting, one side of the library had large windows that went from waist height all the way to the ceiling. They were standing here because this side faced the gymnasium.

Even with some distance, the night was so quiet that they could hear intermittent screams and cries.

In the darkness, people fled in all directions. The school was large, and many escaped, but even more were forever left in the gymnasium. The Devourers pounced to feast, not to mention the birds that descended from the sky and the rats that crawled out from underground.

The appetite wasn’t limited to human Devourers.

The school also had a staggering number of birds and underground creatures.

“I wonder if that Commander Sang has ever read an apocalypse novel,” Zhao Wanzhi said calmly. “Wanting to set up a survivor base—he was way too impatient.”

She didn’t think Commander Sang had good intentions to save more people. The soldier who had come to find them that day had a somewhat forceful attitude. It felt more like forcibly bringing people here than rescuing them.

They hadn’t been able to talk to the people in the gymnasium, but judging by their expressions and the fearful glances they cast at the guards, Zhao Wanzhi guessed they weren’t all there voluntarily.

Zhao Yanzhi said slowly, “After all, the apocalypse has come. He probably wanted to build up some capital early.”

Having ambition wasn’t a sin, but trying to act on it without understanding the situation—well, this was the result.

Gu Cheng stared into the darkness and frowned. “Someone’s coming.”

Indeed, dozens of people were charging straight toward the library. Unlike those fleeing in panic, they seemed to have a clear destination.

Zhao Wanzhi was puzzled. “Is there something special about this library?”

“Whether there is or not,” Zhao Yanzhi said, “to prevent books from being gnawed by rats, they probably did the best job here with rodent control.”

Gu Cheng rolled his eyes. “You could just say they have the most rat poison here.”

“…Would evolved rats even be affected by rat poison?”

Gu Cheng thought about it. “Devourers eat anything, so maybe it would have some effect. Rat poison has a strong smell, which is why it attracts rats. Mainly, it’s toxic. These early-stage Devourers might actually be susceptible to it. Even if it doesn’t kill them, it might cause some harm.”

Whoever came up with this idea was pretty clever, and likely someone from the school.

Yang Junfei?

No, that didn’t seem like his style. That guy’s methods would be crazier.

The crowd was getting closer. Even from the third floor, Gu Cheng could vaguely make out the faces of a few specific figures.

Tsk. It wasn’t just Yang Junfei—Feng Nanyun and his people were also together.

“Thirty-seven people,” Zhao Yanzhi said. “Sixteen are soldiers, including Feng Nanyun.”

If Gu Cheng could see clearly, so could Zhao Yanzhi.

Seeing Yang Junfei, who had played a major role in her story, Zhao Wanzhi’s expression soured. “Should we avoid them?”

“We were here first. Why should we avoid them?” Zhao Yanzhi said righteously.

Zhao Wanzhi felt he was just trying to see her make a fool of herself, so she rolled her eyes.

Gu Cheng smiled. He knew Zhao Yanzhi actually wanted to observe them. Zhao Wanzhi might feel she had nothing to do with Yang Junfei in this life, but Zhao Yanzhi was different—he was seriously considering striking first to nip danger in the bud.

Back then, Zhao Yanzhi had adapted to the apocalypse the fastest, followed by Zhao Wanzhi. Before their rebirth, Gu Cheng had been the last to get into the groove.

Of course, “adapted” referred to mindset. With Zhao Yanzhi’s germophobia, even ten years later, he would never be as carefree and slovenly as other apocalypse survivors.

The two groups, led by Yang Junfei and Feng Nanyun, quickly entered the library.

…They even turned on flashlights.

Gu Cheng found it amusing. He knew they didn’t want to reveal their night vision abilities. But night vision was just a basic New Human skill. Hiding something everyone could do was really quite something.

Everyone was discreetly trying to downplay their abilities, not wanting others to know they could see in the dark.

Tsk. But they were all the same. You can see, and so can I. The way they hid it was just too funny.

“It’s you!” Feng Nanyun was the first to spot Gu Cheng and the others.

They hadn’t planned to hide anyway. Bumping into them soon was inevitable.

In the darkness, Yang Junfei’s eyes flickered. He discreetly sized up the three of them. As a psychology expert, he had noticed a subtle dissonance about them when they first met at the gymnasium.

Especially the way they looked at him… it was a bit strange.

He kept a calm exterior, greeting them with a smile and introducing himself.

Sure enough, from their reactions, they seemed to recognize him.

Yang Junfei prided himself on his good memory. Plus, these three were so striking in appearance—there was no way he had seen them before and forgotten.

“Have we met somewhere?” he asked, wearing a warm, pleasant smile. He turned to Zhao Wanzhi, who was standing next to him, with the most appropriate, charming, and relaxed demeanor.

Compared to the seemingly gentle but clearly distant young man, and the cold-faced germophobe who was wiping his hand after shaking Feng Nanyun’s, the young, beautiful, and vibrant woman seemed much more approachable.

Not to mention Yang Junfei was good at leveraging his strengths. There were few women in the world who could resist his charm—unless she was a lesbian.

Playing mind games came naturally to a good-looking, charismatic psychology expert.

He was well aware of his allure.

Then Yang Junfei saw the woman’s lips part.

“Scram!” she said coldly.

Yang Junfei: “…”