Quick Travel to the Clouds

Chapter 636 The Apocalyptic Old Lady 5

A suppressed gasp came from the group.

Watching the powerful figure effortlessly annihilate the enemy with a flick of his finger, Ma Yong swallowed hard. The last vestige of his illusion that "I am the main force" was completely shattered, leaving only endless admiration: "Too...too amazing!"

I reached the stairwell leading to the basement. The metal fire door was ajar, and a thick, dark liquid seeped out from under the door, from which came a chilling, rapid chewing sound.

"Take a step back," Yun Chu said calmly.

The six people immediately took a step back as if they had been granted a pardon, wishing they could stick to the wall.

A faint, earthy-yellow light emanated from Yun Chu's left fingertip as she lightly pressed it against the heavy, cold metal fire door.

hum...

The heavy fire door emitted a strained, twisting metallic sound as it was pulled by an unseen giant python, causing the hinges to snap, deform, and tear apart instantly!

The entire door was forcibly "torn" off the door frame, then violently kneaded into a huge lump of scrap metal by earth-elemental power, and slammed down the stairs, carrying with it several zombies that were gnawing on a mangled corpse behind the door!

Boom! Click!

The sickening sounds of bones clashing, metal scraping, and zombies' short screams erupted in the stairwell below.

After clearing away the brief chaos behind the door, Yun Chu slowly walked down the steps.

The six followed closely behind, their horror already somewhat numbed by the sight of the massive mass of metal debris and the distorted, bloody mixture beneath it.

Li Jianguo's hands, gripping the wrench, were drenched in cold sweat. He smiled bitterly to himself: Monsters fighting monsters? We're just her tails...

The stairwell was dimly lit, with only the green emergency exit signs emitting a faint glow.

Yun Chu didn't move, she just closed her eyes.

The invisible spiritual perception spread rapidly, like mercury spilling onto the ground, scanning along the stairwell and the left and right corridors.

Everyone held their breath, as if they could feel a chilling will sweep over them, piercing through the walls and probing into the unknown dark corners.

"In the third equipment room on the left in the basement corridor, there are four living people with rapid heartbeats, who are afraid but not aggressive."

A few seconds later, Yun Chu opened her eyes and accurately reported the location, her voice still flat, "At the pharmacy entrance at the end of the corridor, there are three mutants guarding it, weaker than the previous 'spider'. The laboratory is safe inside, but there are signs of sabotage."

She pointed to the left passage, "Let's go to the laboratory first, there's what we need there." She was clearly referring to the location of the medical supplies that she had previously detected with her mental senses, while also taking into account the route of the four hiding survivors.

"Yes!"

"understand!"

The six answered almost in unison, their eyes filled with the reliance and trust that reached its peak.

Yun Chu not only saved them and provided them with shelter, but also possessed the terrifying ability to "foresee the future" and see the whole situation!

Every place she pointed out was related to their most tangible safety—where there were living people (meaning the possibility of more resources gathering), where there were supplies (guarantee of survival), and where there was danger (that needed to be avoided or eliminated).

Follow her, and you'll have a way to survive! Follow her, and you'll have hope!

This idea was imprinted with unparalleled clarity deep within the souls of the six people, more resolute than ever before.

The team moved again, heading directly towards the laboratory and the new survivors.

In the dim light, the seemingly frail figure of the silver-haired old woman appeared to the six men like a towering lighthouse, illuminating this bloody and desperate post-apocalyptic wasteland.

two hours.

These two hours felt like a journey between hell and purgatory, yet under Yun Chu's sharpest spear, a crack leading to temporary life was forcibly carved out.

The entire hospital building was filled with a strong, viscous odor that was impossible to dilute.

The cloying sweetness of blood, the stench of rotting flesh, the pungent smell of burnt muscle and hair, and the strange chemical odor of disinfectant and drug residues activated by high temperatures.

They swirl in the cold air, pressing heavily on everyone's nasal cavity and heart.

Every floor and every corridor has become the final, silent ruins of the Asura battlefield.

Large patches of dried brown stains, congealed blood, were splattered on the wall.

Broken tiles, twisted metal, and splintered wood were everywhere.

On the ground, besides a thick layer of crunchy glass shards and mangled tissue fragments, what was even more striking were the charred and curled-up remains of zombies, some pierced and decapitated by sharp weapons, others frozen and shattered.

They are in various poses, piled up at the entrances of key passages or outside the "nests" that were once heavily guarded, silently telling the story of the brutal crackdown that broke out not long ago.

Yun Chu stood behind the temporary barrier that was originally the entrance to the hospital lobby, but was now filled with obstacles.

Her blue and white striped hospital gown was still incongruously clean, except for the dark black and red stains on the edges of her shoes.

A few strands of her silvery-white hair fell across her cheeks, making her eyes appear even colder, like a thousand-year-old icicle.

There were no longer six people behind her.

They are 107 survivors.

It forms a life note that is as abrupt as a scene from an apocalyptic painting:

The elderly and infirm huddled together in the inner circle, shivering. Several elderly people with gray hair, dressed in hospital gowns, sat on chairs and cushions that had been rummaged through, staring blankly at their surroundings, or tightly gripping the hands of their loved ones, their breathing weak.

Several younger children, no more than five or six years old, still had wet tear stains on their faces, and their big eyes were filled with numb fear. They were held tightly in the arms of their mothers or elderly people, and their bodies were still trembling slightly.

A middle-aged woman in a wheelchair, with a blanket covering her legs, stared intently at the outside of the wall with unusual clarity in her eyes.

The sick and disabled: * Some people have simple IV bags hanging from their necks (the fluid inside has long been exhausted, and only the frame supports their hope), and some have blood-stained gauze bandages wrapped around their arms or legs—these are wounds left from fleeing or resisting in the chaos. Although they have received initial treatment, the pain is written on their faces.

A man who had lost all his hair due to chemotherapy leaned weakly against a pillar, his eyes tired but determined.

In the corner lay a heavily pregnant woman, carried there on a makeshift stretcher. She was pale, her belly was swollen, and one hand unconsciously protected her lower abdomen as she struggled to breathe, caught between pain and fear.

Ordinary young adults constitute the largest group, and they are the backbone of maintaining the operation of this temporary community.

There were men and women wearing doctors' white coats (but most of them were dirty and torn), nurses' uniforms that were torn, security guards' uniforms (but the uniforms were long gone and the weapons were all sorts of strange), and many more men and women dressed in civilian clothes.

They looked exhausted, their clothes stained with dirt, sweat and blood, their hair disheveled, and they clutched whatever "weapons" they could find: iron bars, fire axes, chair legs, and even planks nailed to the ground.

They stood or sat, their expressions shifting between relief at surviving the ordeal and anxiety about the extremely uncertain future.

Most people would occasionally glance at the slender, silver-haired figure standing at the fortress entrance, seemingly able to hold up the entire sky.