Courtyard House: I fish in the heavens, a professional bird abuser.

Let's rewind twenty minutes.

The principal's office was dark.

The curtains were drawn—it was unclear whether Angela had drawn them herself or if they had always been drawn like that. A sliver of moonlight shone through the gap in the curtains, drawing a thin silver line on the floor; otherwise, there was only darkness.

When He Yuanchao pushed open the door and walked in, the first thing he saw was not Angela.

It was a wall.

The principal's office wasn't large, maybe fifteen or sixteen square meters. On the wall hung several framed certificates of honor and photos of school activities—a group of children in school uniforms laughing on the playground, with teachers standing behind them also laughing.

The date on the photo is three months ago.

It's like an eternity.

Angela huddled in the corner behind the principal's desk.

The desk was quite large; it was an old-fashioned solid wood desk, heavy and solid, which created a natural "little castle" space behind it.

The little girl surrounded herself with two chairs and several cardboard boxes, as if she had built a makeshift fortress.

In front of her were several opened packets of cookies—found in a locker in the school cafeteria. There were also two bottles of water, half-empty.

How long has she been holding on here all by herself?

He Yuanchao squatted down to look Angela in the eye.

The little girl's eyes were red and swollen, but she had stopped crying. Her composure beyond her years stirred something within He Yuanchao—this child was no ordinary person.

"How long have you been here alone?" He Yuanchao asked softly.

"Three days." Angela's voice was small and muffled, as if squeezed out of cotton. "When the incident happened at school, the teachers told us to hide. I ran to the principal's office and locked the door."

"What about the other children?"

Angela shook her head.

Her lips were pressed tightly together, and her chin was trembling.

He Yuanchao did not ask any further questions.

He knew the answer.

"Your father has been looking for you." He Yuanchao changed the subject. "He called me over the loudspeaker. He said that as long as you're safe, he can help us leave this city."

Angela's eyes lit up.

"Is Dad... alright?"

"He's alright. But he can't come pick you up himself right now—it's too dangerous outside. So he asked me to do it for him."

He Yuanchao extended his hand.

Angela looked at the hand.

It was a very large hand, with several scabbed scars on the back of the hand, thick knuckles, and black bloodstains that had not been washed off under the fingernails.

It wasn't a gentle hand.

But Angela still shook hands with her.

Her hands are very small.

He Yuanchao's fingers completely enveloped the entire palm of the hand.

He Yuanchao gently pulled Angela out of that "fortress".

She swayed slightly as she stood up—her legs were a little weak from not moving much for three days. He Yuanchao helped her up.

At that moment, he noticed a detail.

On the back of Angela's neck, near her hairline, there's a small patch of skin that's a different color from the surrounding skin.

Grayish.

It's not dirty—it's the kind of mutated patches that appear on the skin of infected people in a beehive, but much lighter and almost invisible.

He Yuanchao's hand paused on Angela's nape for half a second without making a sound.

His fingertips felt a faint warmth beneath the skin, a warmth that was different from normal body temperature.

A notification popped up in his mind.

Low concentrations of residual T-virus were detected in the target body. The virus is in a suppressed state. The source of suppression is presumably specific antibodies produced by the target's own immune system. The current antibody concentration is stable and sufficient to suppress viral activity.

There is an additional line of information.

A carrier of the T-virus suppressor gene was detected.

Extracting gene samples?

He Yuanchao mentally clicked "yes".

A faint blue light, invisible to the naked eye, seeped from his fingertips into Angela's skin, completing the gene sampling in less than a tenth of a second.

Angela felt nothing at all.

She just felt that her uncle's hands were a little cold.

He Yuanchao withdrew his hand.

His system notification sounded again.

Gene sample extraction successful. The T-virus natural antibody gene sequence has been entered into the database.

Cross-matching is underway with existing G virus enhancer gene sequences in the host.

Preliminary analysis shows that the two genes are highly complementary.

It is recommended that the host conduct in-depth analysis after acquiring more research equipment in order to develop a "full-spectrum biochemical immune serum".

Full-spectrum biochemical immune serum.

He Yuanchao chewed over those words in his mind twice.

nice one.

This means that if he could combine Angela's antibody gene with his own G virus enhancement gene, he could theoretically create a universal antidote that could resist all known biochemical virus mutations.

The value of this thing in the apocalypse is immeasurable.

It can not only save wounded people like Payton who are infected by bites, but it can also be used as a "vaccine" to prevent people from mutating after being exposed to the T virus.

If mass production...

He Yuanchao dared not think too far ahead.

Let's get them out of there first.

"Let's go, Angela." He took the little girl's hand and led her towards the door.

"Uncle will take you to find your father."

Angela clutched the teddy bear in her hand and followed He Yuanchao out of the principal's office.

The smell of blood hadn't dissipated in the corridor.

He Yuanchao told Angela to close her eyes and then picked her up.

With his enhanced physique weighing just over 100 pounds, he could effortlessly carry a little girl weighing 30 to 40 pounds.

He carried Angela and quickly walked through the blood-stained corridor on the first floor.

The five mangled zombie dog corpses lay scattered on the ground. The black blood had begun to congeal, and it felt sticky underfoot.

He Yuanchao stepped over the last corpse.

Push open the door.

The night breeze on campus was icy cold, but it smelled a million times better than the fishy stench in the corridor.

Angela buried her face in He Yuanchao's shoulder.

She didn't open her eyes.

But she clenched her fists even tighter.

"uncle."

"Um?"

"Those things outside...will they always be there?"

He Yuanchao walked to the iron gate.

He used his free hand to push aside the wire on the door.

"Won't."

Why?

"Because I'm here."

He handed Angela to Jill, who was already waiting outside the door.

Then he turned around and glanced at the school behind him, silent in the darkness.

Colorful cartoon drawings.

A crooked iron fence.

And there was that lonely, blood-stained children's sneaker on the ground.

He Yuanchao turned his gaze back.

The world owes these children an explanation.

And he will go and ask for it.