“Heh—”

“Bang! Bang! Bang!!”

The rear door of the old off-road vehicle swung open, and gunfire erupted from the back seat. Another group of zombies had their heads blown apart, collapsing to the ground as bright red blood pooled together, flowing toward the drain.

The underground passage was a mess, with flickering lights hanging from broken fixtures, casting an eerie glow.

The vehicle sped toward the exit leading to the surface, tearing through darkness, oppressive gloom, and the wandering zombies in the tunnel. Amidst the pale, stiff hands reaching out in the air, they charged toward the blinding sunlight—suddenly, the surroundings opened up. The scorching 9:30 AM summer sun made the vehicle’s body unbearably hot, but each person inside felt a chilling cold in their hearts.

The dark underground passageway was quickly receding into the distance.

“Thud!” The off-road vehicle struck a zombie, sending it flying as blood trickled down the windshield.

Zhou Mingxuan’s driving skills were exceptional.

The main road was swarming with zombies, with abandoned vehicles scattered haphazardly. Occasionally, they ran over debris on the road, causing the car to tilt sharply, but Zhou expertly stabilized the vehicle, continuing forward at a sharp angle.

Song Qinglan sat in the passenger seat, clearing the way with precise gunfire, each shot exploding a zombie’s head. In the rearview mirror, Ji Yushi could only see Song Qinglan’s tense jawline and his slender fingers pulling the trigger intermittently.

No one in the car spoke.

They broke through a dense wave of zombies ahead, leaving a trail of blood as the car sped away, gradually distancing itself from the frenzied pursuit.

The Runjin Building grew smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

Eventually, it was swallowed by the massive black wall, disappearing into the darkness, never to be seen again.

As they left the most bustling part of the city center, the number of visible zombies decreased. Occasionally, they passed signs of survivors’ desperate attempts to escape or the remnants of destroyed police resources.

Song Qinglan put away his gun, took out half a pack of cigarettes left in the old off-road vehicle, lit one, and held it outside the window without smoking.

In the back seat, Li Chun couldn’t help but choke up, “Before we left on this mission, Brother Wen said he wanted to try the taste of cigarettes in Xijing City decades later.”

“Who knew we wouldn’t even make it to Xijing in 1498, or get a chance to smoke cigarettes from decades later…”

“It’s only been a few hours, and we’ve already lost two people. What kind of shitty mission is this? Who wouldn’t be sent to their death… What kind of goddamn bad luck is it to end up in this godforsaken place? An A-level mission turned into a hellish nightmare!!”

Despite Duan Wen sacrificing himself to scout the way, they still encountered a fierce battle in the northeast corner’s fire escape. It was hard to imagine what the scene was like in the fire escape where Duan Wen was. Li Chun was younger and, after surviving another near-death experience and losing teammates, couldn’t control his emotions.

Ji Yushi noticed that Tang Le’s eyes were red.

Ji Yushi had never had teammates, always acting alone, so he wanted to offer some comfort but couldn’t find the words.

He was too unskilled at expressing emotions.

“Hold on,” Song Qinglan said. “Hold on until the mission is completed, and we can’t let their sacrifices be in vain. Once we’re back, I’ll find those bastards and demand an explanation for why this happened. Whether it’s a bug or human error, if they don’t give us an answer, I’ll make the entire command center take a day trip in a capsule pod.”

Everyone remained silent.

Song Qinglan added, “And no matter what happens next, no one is allowed to act on their own. Sacrificing yourself is stupid, not something worth emulating. Nothing is more important than staying alive. There’s still a lot of other stuff to contribute to in the team; there’s no need to rush to die.”

Still, no one spoke.

Song Qinglan stubbed out his cigarette and tossed it out the window. “Did everyone hear me?!”

“Yes!”

“Got it.”

“Bang! Bang!”

Zhou Mingxuan hit two more zombies in quick succession. As the car sped away, a few new zombies emerged from a shop on the street behind them, chasing after the car.

“Damn—” he cursed, “A kid.”

Among the group of zombies was a small figure with pigtails, clutching a doll in a red dress.

“…Such a small zombie.”

Tang Le said, “Zombies bite people regardless of whether they’re adults or children.”

Just like the black wall devours everything without distinction.

“There’s an old movie where the protagonist’s husband turned into a zombie and bit his daughter first.” For some reason, Tang Le suddenly brought up this topic. “Once they mutate, they lose all rationality and humanity. That movie’s plot was somewhat like ours earlier; they were cornered into a building, except they hid in a shopping mall, which at least had plenty of food. They didn’t have to rush to complete any mission and stayed inside for months.”

“Dawn of the Dead,” Ji Yushi said. “But it was the daughter who bit her husband first.”

Tang Le paused, “Really? Actually, it was Tang Qi watching it, and I just happened to see some of it. Consultant Ji, have you seen it too?”

Ji Yushi regretted speaking up, “I accidentally saw it when a classmate was watching.”

Song Qinglan picked up the binoculars and checked the route ahead, “Consultant Ji, why aren’t we taking the main road?”

Ji Yushi explained, “There’s a roadblock 400 meters down the main road, and a damaged space car is blocking the way.”

After some bumping, the car quickly emerged from the alley, and as they passed the main road intersection, they indeed saw a roadblock.

The drone footage was taken from a high altitude and at high speed, so it required extremely keen observation to notice such details.

They passed through another alley and crossed a large bridge.

The scenery along the way was much the same as in the city center—zombies, more zombies.

The car was nearly totaled by this point, with rotting flesh stuck to the doors and windows, occasionally blown by the wind. A strand of zombie hair stuck to the car’s exterior, fluttering in the breeze.

“Where are we going?”

In the silence, Zhou Mingxuan finally asked.

The question was tinged with sadness.

In this world known as PU-31, apart from choosing a place with fewer zombies and farther from the black wall, it seemed they had nowhere to go.

Ji Yushi glanced out the window, “Turn left on the street ahead, then drive two kilometers to the service road. There’s a bookstore by the roadside. It’s on a small hill, good for defense, and the view is decent.”

A bookstore?

In this day and age, paper books had long been obsolete. Modern humans only needed to press a button on their communicator to project all the information they needed. Opening a bookstore was a crazy idea, so niche that hardly anyone ever set foot in one.

Song Qinglan looked at him through the rearview mirror, “Then let’s go to the bookstore.”

10:20 AM.

Just as Ji Yushi had said, there was indeed a bookstore there. Even in the apocalypse, it wasn’t the kind of place humans would choose as a shelter. The tall bookshelves from the first floor to the ceiling of the second, the polished floors—it felt like stepping back into the last century.

Behind the counter was a dead elderly employee with gray eyes and a mouthful of dentures. Even though he was infected, you could still tell that he had been a kind old man.

Song Qinglan flipped him over and placed him in a chair.

Ji Yushi watched this scene and quickly looked away.

The store was large, and the team members split up to search it. Besides the old man, they found no one else. They arrived too easily, and the street didn’t even have many zombies. After what had happened earlier, everyone felt it was too easy.

“The black wall won’t reach us for a while. We can stay here for a few hours,” Song Qinglan said. “The second floor has a good view. We’ll use it as our base. If any zombies without eyes rush in, we can spot them immediately. Now, let’s go find something to eat.”

“I’ll go.” Zhou Mingxuan slung his laser gun over his shoulder, “And check out the area; you guys stay safe.”

“I’ll go with you,” Tang Le said.

In the end, Li Chun went too, leaving just two out of the five people behind—only Ji Yushi and Song Qinglan remained.

This arrangement was rare. Ji Yushi wasn’t used to being alone with someone, but Song Qinglan said, “I’ll see if I can find anything useful here.”

They split up.

Song Qinglan found some electronic equipment, but without any network connection, it was useless. When he returned to their meeting point, Ji Yushi was nowhere to be found.

The bookshelves stretched on and on.

Ji Yushi stood in a corner, holding a bottle of mineral water he had found somewhere, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed something.

The next second, his wrist was grabbed.

“Consultant Ji,” Song Qinglan asked, “What is this?”

Ji Yushi was holding a thin, square medicine box.

With this question, Ji Yushi frowned and abruptly pulled his hand away. Caught off guard, Song Qinglan let him go, and Ji Yushi immediately tried to escape. But Song Qinglan reacted quickly, his hand like an iron clamp, grabbing Ji Yushi’s shoulder.

Ji Yushi countered with an elbow strike, which Song Qinglan dodged. But as another gust of wind rushed toward him, Ji Yushi’s fierce punch was caught.

Taking advantage of his height, Song Qinglan yanked Ji Yushi forward, extending his long arm to grab the medicine box from Ji Yushi’s left hand.

Ji Yushi’s quick reflexes sent the medicine box flying in an arc through the air.

But Song Qinglan ignored the medicine box, instead pinning Ji Yushi’s arms behind his back and pressing him against the bookshelf!

Song Qinglan’s voice was unfamiliar, cold as it came from behind Ji Yushi’s ear, “Ji Yushi, repeated exposure to the same time point can cause confusion between reality and hallucination, requiring medication to stay clear-headed—at least that’s what I’ve read in a paper.”

Ji Yushi couldn’t break free, and though there was clothing between them, the sensation of being pressed tightly against another person was uncomfortable: “What are you trying to say?!”

Song Qinglan said, “I think you haven’t been entirely honest with me.”

From the convenience store to the Runjin Building’s beauty salon and now to this bookstore, everything from Ji Yushi’s perspective seemed suspicious—he moved too smoothly.

Even in the twelve previous time missions, there had never been an instance of a jump destination shifting into a bizarre time-space, until—this newcomer Ji Yushi arrived, making it impossible for Song Qinglan not to be suspicious.

“You can explain why you insisted on coming to the bookstore, or maybe tell me how many times you’ve experienced our current situation?”

Ji Yushi suddenly understood, “You think I’m related to that so-called Ouroboros?”

Song Qinglan: “Exactly.”

“Let go of me, and I’ll tell you!”

“Tell me, and I’ll let you go!”

Song Qinglan was never one to play by the rules, and neither was his team.

He wouldn’t let go until he got what he wanted, no matter the threat.

Ji Yushi’s face was pressed against the cold bookshelf, “It hurts.”

Song Qinglan was startled, was this a trick?

“My hand hurts,” Ji Yushi repeated, almost pleading, “Let go, please?”

In that instant, Song Qinglan felt like he was bullying a weak person.

It wasn’t his usual style, and seeing Ji Yushi’s face gradually turn pale, he figured there was no way Ji Yushi could escape his grasp, so he let go.

But as soon as he did, he took a solid punch to the face.

His cheekbone burned with pain.

Song Qinglan was furious, but then he noticed Ji Yushi’s eyes were red at the corners, clearly in real pain, not faking it.

After hitting him, Ji Yushi’s expression remained cold as ever: “Captain Song, do you know there’s a condition called hyperthymesia?”