The man with the dirt-caked face frowned, his eyes darting suspiciously between the minibus and the small group. "You think we are idiots?" he spat, reaching out to grip the side of the raft as if preparing to climb down. He wanted to check for himself exactly how much food remained hidden in the vehicle's reinforced interior.
The cold air seemed to sharpen as a heavy silence settled over them.
Hong Bin slightly bent his knees, his muscles tensing under his gear. He was ready to strike if those men dared get even a step closer to their position. He shot a quick glance at Lǚ Liu, his eyes silently asking if he should take them out right there.
Before she could offer any signal, another man, who looked significantly calmer and more refined than his companion, reached out to stop the first. "Enough, Gou Tou. Don't act on your own. We are only here for the food."
He shot a subtle, calculating glance at the group. Unlike Gou Tou, he had already noticed that these people weren't ordinary survivors struggling in the mud. Their clean, heavy clothes, healthy complexions, and a working vehicle filled with fuel were all signs of significant power and resources. Whatever their purpose was in these mountains, they weren't people to mess with without a plan.
Gou Tou rumbled a low grumble in his throat. "I get it, Wen Jun. I just wanted a bit more to eat. Do you know how long we have been choking down that disgusting crap? Finally seeing real people again, how could I not ask for more?"
Lǚ Liu handed the boxes of compressed biscuits over, the cardboard crinkling in the quiet. "Alright, you have the food," she said calmly. "Now what about my teammate?"
"What do you think? He is coming back with us so we can take the egg out of his body," Gou Tou muttered, his eyes already fixed on the food crates.
"How about we go with you?" Lǚ Liu asked politely. After all, the egg was still lodged inside Yang Yang.
"The raft can't carry more people," Gou Tou said impatiently. "Relax, we just want the food. That weakling is more valuable to us alive than dead. We don't eat people."
Yang Yang narrowed his eyes, a dangerous edge appearing in his gaze as his lips curled upward. "Keep talking. I will make you eat those words soon enough."
"I will use the planks to cross," Lǚ Liu said, gesturing toward the two large wooden boards lying in the mud. They were the same makeshift rafts Yang Yang had ripped off from the minibus doors earlier.
"You aren't going," Wen Jun said firmly. He shined his bright flashlight around the group before pointing the beam directly at Jing Shu. "You go."
The light was blinding. Jing Shu was bundled up so tightly in her furs that she could barely move her arms freely. Wen Jun clearly thought that even if she had some tricks up her sleeve, one push into the deep swamp and she would sink like a sponge-laden mule.
Jun Bao quickly raised a hand, his movements slightly shaky. "I will go too, is that alright?" he asked in a weak, high-pitched voice, doing his best to look like a fragile, sheltered young master.
One look at his pale, delicate face and the flashy, impractical clothes he wore, and the men exchanged quick glances. Kidnapping someone like him would've been easy money in the old world, but out here? Xiao Wei definitely wouldn't have allowed that kind of complication. Still, what's the point of being kind in the apocalypse? They had all become monsters in one way or another.
Gou Tou eventually snorted and started rowing the raft back toward the center of the muck. "Come if you want, but our raft can't carry more people. Just don't try anything stupid. We aren't nice guys. We've got powers you can't even imagine. If you aren't afraid of ending up as monster feed, then be my guest."
Monster feed? Eggs? Jing Shu wondered what the hell that was supposed to mean.
Jun Bao's eyes lit up with a sudden spark of curiosity. If those monsters could actually be eaten, then perhaps it'd solve the world's food problem entirely. These people had survived in the isolated mountains for months on end. What exactly were they eating to stay alive? He had a bold guess forming in his head.
"Of course," Jun Bao said with surprising confidence as he quickly stepped onto the muddy plank. His eyes gleamed as he looked back at Jing Shu, his expression urging her to hurry up and row faster so they could catch up with the raft.
Jing Shu stayed silent, her jaw tight.
The men's raft drifted slowly across the dark surface of the swamp, while Jing Shu struggled to maintain her balance by alternating her weight between the two wooden planks. Moving one person was already difficult enough, but with Jun Bao on board, every unsteady shift of his weight sent cold, muddy water surging over the edges of the wood.
Thick mud soaked into the hem of her pants, and Jun Bao's pristine white clothes and fur cloak were quickly splattered with dark grey sludge. He tried jumping slightly to keep his balance, but that only made the planks tip further. Eventually, he gave up on staying clean, gritting his teeth as the cold mud crept higher up his legs.
The swamp wasn't particularly wide, but when they reached its deepest center, Jing Shu suddenly sensed a faint, vibrating reaction from her Rubik's Cube Space. Her pulse quickened. "Could the black liquid be buried right beneath this mud?"
The question gnawed at her as she stared into the depths. How deep did this swamp go? If she used a long stick to probe the bottom, she might be able to draw that black liquid directly into her space.
She itched to try it right then, but she knew now wasn't the time for experiments. Still, excitement burned in her chest, a heat that was almost too hard to suppress in the freezing air.
While she was lost in her thoughts, Jun Bao had already started chatting with one of the men on the raft.
Once they finally crossed the expanse of the swamp, Jing Shu felt a lingering twinge of disappointment at leaving the area. Wen Jun walked in front, leading the way with his flashlight, while Jun Bao followed eagerly at his side. Yang Yang and Jing Shu stayed in the middle of the line. Gou Tou and the other man brought up the rear, keeping a sharp eye on their every move.
"So, are you guys locals? How many of you are there exactly? How long have you lived out here? Do you have enough food to survive the winter? Why not try to report your location to the local authorities? They would send down rations, and you would live much better than this. Oh, right, we came to the mountains looking for someone, but we haven't found a trace yet. Good thing we ran into you," Jun Bao said cheerfully.
Jing Shu watched him in silence. She had never expected this man to be such a chatterbox, especially now of all times when they were being held at gunpoint.
Yang Yang stared at the back of Jun Bao's head, his expression seething with frustration. "Dude, I'm the one who got kidnapped, not you. Can you maybe not act like we are on a school trip? Whose side are you even on?"
Gou Tou stayed silent behind them, his face clouded and clearly annoyed by the endless questions.
Wen Jun, however, answered in a mild, tired voice. "We used to live in a small village north of Wu City. About half a year ago, the mountains started closing in from all sides, trapping us in this valley."
"You didn't try calling for help? Or escaping to report the situation?" Jun Bao asked again.
"All communications went down the moment the peaks shifted," Wen Jun said with a heavy sigh. "At first, we did try to get out. But then our food ran out, and everyone who tried to leave through the passes never came back. They all died on the road. After a while, we simply gave up. Inside or outside, it's all the same. The apocalypse is everywhere. Surviving is all that matters."
Outside or inside, it made no difference.
Jun Bao's eyes brightened in the darkness. "So, you found a sustainable food source?"
"Yeah," Wen Jun replied dully, clearly unwilling to elaborate further on the topic.
The landscape changed subtly as they moved deeper into the valley. Though they were still surrounded by the looming mountain peaks, the atmosphere grew heavier and more stagnant. Gou Tou, who hadn't talked to outsiders in ages, couldn't resist pointing things out as if he were giving a tour before the end of the world.
"That used to be our village's elementary school," he said, pointing a finger toward a crushed, unrecognizable patch of rubble and twisted rebar. "Two mountains squeezed it flat in seconds. Over there was our square. Only the pavilion is left now. Half the houses got crushed between the slopes when they moved. Now, this is all that's left—broken tiles and memories. A lot of people never even woke up that night. Guess they turned into fertilizer. Maybe that's what keeps this place alive."