Apocalypse, then transforming into a magical girl

"You fat bastard, I'll fuck your mother! Can't you understand human language?"

A man wearing a dirty subway employee uniform, looking haggard with bloodshot eyes, was shouting wildly into a walkie-talkie in a hoarse voice.

This was the equipment room of Shanghe Road subway station in Xinmao City a few hours ago.

"Are you crazy? We only have a little bit of diesel left, and you want to use it to start a fire?"

He kicked the empty oil drum next to him, and the drum made a loud bang that echoed in the small equipment room, not being drowned out by the roar of the diesel generator.

"Would you only be happy if we all turned into water ghosts?"

Old Wang knew that the backup diesel generator and the water pump connected to it in the subway station were the last lifeline for them, a group of unlucky people trapped and dying in the subway station.

The power had been cut off outside long ago, and both the main power supply and the UPS had failed.

Once the backup diesel generator runs out of fuel, the water pump will immediately fail, and the blood-red water outside will completely flood the subway station within tens of minutes.

They will all drown here, or become the monster's feast before that.

The angry roar was transformed into radio waves, which reached the subway station entrance and into the walkie-talkie in Old Qian's hand.

The light at the entrance was a bit brighter than before. Above the waterproof barrier, Old Qian could see the oppressive, blood-red skylight. The air was extremely humid and stifling, carrying the acrid smell of burning diesel fuel.

Listening to Lao Wang's frantic cursing over the walkie-talkie, Lao Qian felt a deep sense of helplessness and exhaustion. He was already a bit overweight, and now, wearing a heavy raincoat, he was drenched in sweat and felt like he was about to collapse.

Beside him were several empty 20L steel diesel drums.

"Sigh..." Old Qian sighed heavily. He knew all too well the importance of diesel fuel. But the defenses at the entrance were also in grave danger.

To prevent rainwater from flowing back into the subway station, the entrance is usually designed with several steps leading up to it. However, after more than ten hours of continuous heavy rain, the water outside had already overflowed the steps.

They could only install a few waterproof barriers at the entrance and pile sandbags next to them.

These makeshift metal barriers were surprisingly watertight, but they couldn't stop the monsters outside from constantly ramming into them.

A dull, powerful impact came from the outside of the baffle, and the screws at the connection point trembled under the strain.

"Old Wang!" Old Qian picked up the walkie-talkie again. "I'll say it one more time, bring a few more barrels of diesel oil! Right now!"

"Can't you fucking hear me? That thing outside keeps banging against the flood barrier! If it breaks through, we'll die even faster and in a much worse way! We won't even have a chance to become water ghosts!"

Silence fell on both ends of the walkie-talkie.

Standing next to Lao Qian were two other people who had also heard the argument.

One of them was Xiao Feng, a female physical education student who was nearly 1.8 meters tall and whose thick waist could not be hidden even with her soaked raincoat. Her face was full of fear and exhaustion.

The other was a somewhat thin old man, his raincoat hood pulled low, obscuring his face. Although the old man was very old, with his knees almost unable to bend, the occasional glimpse of his eyes from the shadows carried a weathered, hardened quality, suggesting he had once been a soldier.

Old Qian took a deep breath, looked at Xiao Feng, the female PE student next to him, and pointed to the empty oil drum on the ground: "Xiao Feng, go downstairs for a moment."

"Go to the equipment room and find Lao Wang. Tell him we're out of diesel."

"Bring up two more barrels of diesel oil, no matter what! Now!"

Xiao Feng hesitated. She stammered, then asked softly, "What if...what if he doesn't give it to me?"

"You won't give it to me?" The veteran who had been silent all along suddenly spoke, his eyes flashing with a fierce light beneath his hat brim.

"If you don't give it to us, we'll all die here! Stop with the nonsense! If you can't get it, don't even bother coming up here!"

Startled, Xiao Feng didn't dare ask any more questions. He quickly picked up the empty oil drum, turned around, and ran down the stairs leading to the station hall.

Old Qian watched Xiao Feng's burly figure gradually disappear and sighed heavily again. He was also being driven mad by the endless rain, the monsters, and the severe internal strife.

His raincoat was already soaked with sweat, sticking to his body and making him feel extremely uncomfortable.

He picked up the last oil drum beside him, which still had a little bit of diesel fuel left, and carefully poured the fuel onto the tattered work clothes wrapped around the top of the riot control fork, and lit it.

Diesel fuel is not easy to ignite; the orange-red flame took more than ten seconds to ignite, emitting thick black smoke and a pungent smell.

Old Qian waved the makeshift torch, extending it over the waterproof barrier. Immediately, several roars of monsters and sounds of panicked retreat came from outside, and the crashing sounds temporarily ceased.

However, Old Qian knew that this was only temporary.

He leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, his gaze sweeping across the subway station entrance. Now, only the three of them remained, still able to move about.

Old Wang from the equipment room was the fourth, while in the corner of the station hall, there were three other wounded who were not very mobile.

Seven people. These are all the survivors of this Shanghe Road subway station.

He gave a helpless, bitter smile. Back when the disaster first struck, this place was packed with panicked people—probably over a hundred?

At that time, they still had illusions about the future, thinking that this was just a particularly heavy rain and would pass quickly.

However, reality soon dealt them a cruel blow. The black, thread-like substances in the rain coalesced into a monster, rushing towards the subway station, and fear and panic overwhelmed everything.

By the time they finally discovered that the monsters feared fire and drove them away using flammable materials in the subway, only about twenty people remained.

Then came an even more terrifying internal collapse. The immense pressure and despair washed over him like a tidal wave, driving a man insane.

He wielded a fire axe and hacked wildly through the station hall, killing several people who couldn't react in time. Finally, a burly man smashed his skull with a riot fork.

But the nightmare wasn't over yet. Around midnight, another guy, thinking he was going to die anyway, decided to have some fun and walked over to a woman in a corner of the station hall who was shivering in the rain, wrapped in a blanket.

Then, he was stabbed through the mouth and dermatitis by the woman who had turned into a monster, and in the last moments of his life, he experienced a novel fourth kind of love.

Then, the monster, transformed from a human, went on a rampage in the station hall. They fought with all their might, losing several lives, before finally defeating the monster—the burly man also tragically died at that moment.

Later, Lao Qian and his group hardened their hearts and disposed of several people who had also been soaked in the rain too much and were mentally unstable.

In the end, only seven of them remained. Old Qian, Old Wang, Little Feng, and the old soldier were still able to move. There was also a man and a woman who were seriously injured and were lying in the corner of the station hall groaning, being watched by a middle-aged man with a broken right hand who could barely take care of others.

Old Qian leaned wearily against the wall, subconsciously touching the small booklet in his pocket, which was swollen from being soaked in water and filled with all sorts of urban legends.

This used to be his greatest hobby, but now, after the disaster struck, he has begun to miss those insignificant, leisurely days at the company.

How many of those guys from the company are still alive?