He has been reincarnated through countless worlds, adorned with billions of mythological terms!

Yun Yi's pupils instantly turned gold.

He silently slid off the bed, his bare feet touching the cold floor.

Sister Liu was dozing off in the corner, Wen Ruotang was leaning against the headboard with her eyes closed, and Yun Nian was curled up in a ball, hugging her ugly rabbit.

They haven't woken up yet.

He walked to the door and pressed his ear against it.

Someone is running outside the door.

more than one.

His breathing was heavy, with a wet, gurgling sound, like something was stuck in his throat.

Then came the sound of metal clanging—like something scratching at the door.

The door of apartment A11 next door was bumped.

It was a very heavy jolt; the entire wall shook.

The child's crying suddenly rose in pitch, then stopped abruptly.

Yunyi placed his hand on the doorknob.

"Xiao Yi?"

Wen Ruotang's voice came from behind, hoarse and still a little groggy from just waking up.

He turned his head, his golden pupils flashing briefly in the darkness.

When he faced her, his face had returned to black.

"It's okay, Mom."

"I'm going to the restroom."

Wen Ruotang looked at him for two seconds, nodded, and then closed her eyes again.

Yun Yi turned the doorknob, slipped out, and gently closed the door behind him.

Half of the lights in the corridor were off, and the remaining few flickered, dividing the entire corridor into fragments of light and shadow.

There was a fresh scratch mark on the door of A11—four scratches, widely spaced, unlike a human hand.

There was blood on the ground.

The dark red liquid seeping from under the door of A11 was particularly glaring against the white floor tiles.

He did not go to see A11.

He walked forward, his footsteps swallowed by the carpet.

As he passed by A10, he heard someone inside speaking in a low, trembling voice, as if they were on the phone.

A09 was unusually quiet.

At the end of the corridor, the fire door was ajar.

The wind blew in through the crack in the door, carrying a smell—the smell of rust, mixed with the stench of sewers, and something else indescribable.

He had smelled it once during the Great Yan Dynasty.

The corpses were piled up five feet high, and when the sun shone on them, that's the smell they gave off.

The smell of death.

Yun Yi stood in front of the fire door and pushed it open.

There is a parking lot behind the door.

Two of the black vans that were originally parked were gone, and a van that had overturned was now there. The door was open, but no one was inside.

There was broken glass, a shoe, and a hand on the ground. Judging from the cuff, it belonged to a man in a suit.

The hand is still moving.

His fingers were curled up, as if he was grabbing something.

Yun Yi walked over, squatted down, and glanced at the watch on his wrist.

The watch face is broken, and the hands are stopped at 10:47.

He stood up and continued walking forward.

At the end of the parking lot is the exit ramp, above which is the skylight—a grayish-white, gloomy skylight.

He walked up the slope.

The wind picked up.

The rusty smell was even stronger.

The exit is a small ground-level building, resembling a gatehouse of an abandoned factory.

The tin roof was half-opened, creaking and groaning in the wind.

He stood at the doorway, looking outside.

The world has changed.

The city skyline was still visible in the distance, but several more chimneys were now billowing black smoke on the horizon.

It wasn't smoke from industrial production—it was from a fire.

Several fires.

The road was packed with cars, parked haphazardly, like a pile of building blocks that had been knocked over by a child.

Some car doors were open, some had bloodstains on them, and some cars had people inside.

Those people were either sitting motionless in their seats or slumped over the steering wheel.

Further away, several people were walking on the road.

Their posture is incorrect.

His knees didn't bend, his shoulders were tilted to one side, and his head drooped, as if he were dragging himself along the ground.

It's not walking—it's moving.

Yunyi's Eagle Eye autofocus.

He saw their faces.

Gray.

His eyes were sunken, his lips were purple, and dark liquid was dripping from the corners of his mouth.

One of the men had half his face gnawed on, the bone protruding, but he was walking.

Yun Yi withdrew his gaze.

He turned and went back to the parking lot, walked through the corridor, and pushed open the door to A12.

Wen Ruotang was still leaning against the headboard, but her eyes were open, staring at the doorway.

Seeing him come in, I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Why did it take you so long?"

"There's a fight outside."

Yunyi climbed onto his bed, pulled the blanket up to his chin, and said, "It's so noisy."

Wen Ruotang did not ask any further questions.

That night, intermittent sounds could be heard coming from the corridor.

The sound of banging on the door, footsteps, and that inhuman growl.

Every time there was a sound, Yun Yi could feel Wen Ruotang turning over in bed.

But she didn't get up, didn't open the door, and didn't ask any questions.

She knows.

He knows more than any of them combined.

The next morning, Sister Liu turned on the TV.

All channels were showing static, except for one local station which was still broadcasting. The picture was choppy, and the host was clearly reading from a script, his voice strained.

"...All citizens are requested to remain indoors, keep doors and windows closed, and not go outside...The military has intervened...A quarantine zone is being established...Repeating, all citizens are requested to remain indoors..."

The screen switched to a map.

A red circle appeared on the screen, encompassing most of the city.

Yun Yi looked at the red circle and suddenly remembered something—he hadn't seen the name of this world yet.

He walked to the window, stood on tiptoe, and used his eagle eye to look at the roof of the building in the farthest distance.

There was a "GG" sign above it, the red lettering standing out starkly against the gray sky.

"Linhai City - A City of Vitality, A Harbor of Dreams"

Linhai City.

A coastal city.

It makes perfect sense that the virus started spreading from the coast.

As he came down from the window, he caught a glimpse of Wen Ruotang's face out of the corner of his eye.

She was looking at the closed door, her expression calm, as calm as a stagnant pool.

But her fingers were trembling, gripping the corner of the blanket tightly, her knuckles white.

She is waiting for someone.

That person won't be coming.

……

The days passed by.

The television signal was completely cut off on the third day.

On the fifth day, all the lights in the corridor went out, leaving only the dim green glow of the emergency lights.

On the seventh day, the ventilation ducts were shut down, and the air began to feel humid and stuffy.

On the tenth day, the water flow from the tap decreased and had a rusty smell.

Sister Liu began to feel anxious.

She paced back and forth in the room, muttering, "Why hasn't anyone brought food?"

"What's going on outside?"

"Have we been forgotten?"

Wen Ruotang didn't speak, she just leaned against the bed, getting thinner and thinner every day.

Yun Nian didn't quite understand what had happened.

All she knew was that she couldn't go out, couldn't watch TV, and couldn't go to school.

She spent her time drawing, using the ballpoint pen she found in Sister Liu's bag to draw on tissues—drawing the osmanthus tree in the garden, the ugly rabbit, and Yunyi's silhouette sitting by the window.

"Brother, when are we going home?"

"Soon."

"Where's Dad?"

"Dad... is busy outside."

"What are you busy with?"

"Come visit us when you're done with your work."

Yun Nian gave an "oh" and lowered her head to continue drawing.