Chapter 64: Return to Wancheng

Even with a car boasting excellent performance, Mo Yu and the others still found this road utterly exasperating.

The food in their stomachs rose and fell with the jolting of the vehicle, their nausea echoing throughout the car; this must be the essence of motion sickness… Li Jun had long since gone to sit up front with Ye Zuonan, claiming the scenery there might help suppress his urge to vomit. That might have been true before the apocalypse, but now... heh, it was less a cure for nausea and more an invitation to it. No longer did lush branches and birdsong greet their eyes, but instead, scattered limbs and rotting flesh, with black crows feasting on carrion.

“Stop... Stop the car! Ugh—!” When Ye Zuonan’s trembling voice rose again, Mo Yu couldn’t help but cover her ears and collapse into Qing Xuan’s arms. For her, this was nothing short of chronic torture.

A screeching sound rang out as the car braked sharply, tires scraping against the ground. The sudden deceleration nearly sent them hurtling through the front windshield.

“We’re taking a break here,” announced the driver, who was also the one deciding how much more of this torment they’d have to endure.

“Thank goodness...” Ye Zuonan, trembling, clung to the car door and finally gave in, vomiting by the roadside. The others, seeing her state, couldn’t help but gag as well.

Mo Yu nestled deeper into Qing Xuan’s embrace, burying her head as an ostrich might.

“We’ll rest here for half an hour,” Ye Youbei declared from the driver’s seat, hands on the wheel as he turned to look back at them. “But remember, our mission is urgent. We must return to Province D before the day after tomorrow!” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an undeniable authority. Not that Mo Yu was cowed—she didn’t believe him anyway.

Though it had taken them a long time to escape from Province D to their current refuge in Province A, Mo Yu doubted that even traveling alone, she could cross three provinces in just two days. They had only covered a tenth of the journey so far, and that was with the luck of avoiding any zombies. Should they run into any on the road ahead, the question wasn’t just whether they could complete the mission—it was whether they would survive at all.

Time passed swiftly. No matter how rugged the road, there would always be an end. When they finally set foot on a proper highway, everyone heaved a collective sigh of relief.

The first town they reached was called Guan City.

Guan City was small, about the size of seven or eight standard soccer fields. Yet to Mo Yu and her group, it had always been a city that never slept.

When they had fled Guan City, its buildings and signs were still intact and neon lights sparkled in the night. Now, each of them gripped a knife or gun, their hands tense around the weapons as the car tires crunched over dead branches and leaves, making eerie sounds. The once sleepless city had become a city of the dead—a stark and bitter contrast to its former glory.

“Brother, why are we stopping here? Why not keep going?” Ye Zuonan, supported by another team member, asked weakly.

“Dr. Zhang said he hid the experimental base’s blueprints in Guan City. Only with those plans can we enter the base and secure the R-A antidote.” Ye Youbei’s tone was stern as he shot her a glare. “Weren’t you there when we accepted this mission?!”

“Uh, oops... I forgot, I forgot.” Zuonan gave a sheepish laugh. She had barely been awake when he dragged her along to receive the mission briefing; who could pay attention in that state?

Ye Youbei glared at his sister again, his eyes full of dissatisfaction and a threatening warning.

“Hmph!” Zuonan waved her fist behind his back and rolled her eyes, but unwillingly caught up with the group.

“Everyone, be careful.” Ye Youbei raised his gun to his chest and slipped sideways into a hospital that looked dilapidated from the outside. Mo Yu noticed the sign hanging out front—“Anning Psychiatric Hospital.”

Could this be the legendary madhouse where maniacs abound? For the first time since regaining her memories, Mo Yu recalled something from her past life. After the apocalypse began, a period of chaos produced many extraordinary individuals, each with abilities surpassing the norm. They killed countless zombies but just as many humans. To ordinary people, they were angels and devils alike, for all of them came from psychiatric hospitals all over the country before mutating. These people had no clear sense of right and wrong; killing was a pleasure, whether their victims were zombies or helpless humans. When in a good mood, they preyed on the weak; when foul-tempered, they challenged zombies more powerful than themselves, relishing the thrill of torment.

It was a twisted mentality, and Mo Yu found it deeply unsettling. She pulled Qing Xuan close and stepped up to the group leader. “Why did Dr. Zhang hide those things here?”

“I don’t know,” Ye Youbei replied coldly. He wasted no more words and started assigning tasks. “Let’s split into teams. Eleven and Twelve, one group; Fifteen and Eighteen, another; Seventeen with me; and you two, together.” He pointed at Mo Yu and Qing Xuan. “Nineteen and Eighteen, you stay with the child at the entrance. Everyone else, search for the blueprints. Once you find them, send a signal and regroup!”

He led the way inside. Seventeen—Ye Zuonan—was already in combat mode and, as she passed Mo Yu, slipped her a wristwatch. “Press the raised button if you find the blueprints. Be careful, I’m going!” She clapped Mo Yu’s shoulder and strode after her brother.

Mo Yu looked quietly at the still-warm watch before fastening it to her wrist. It was not only a gesture of care, but one of trust—a bond between friends.

As everyone began their cautious search, Qing Xuan squeezed Mo Yu’s hand in encouragement. Mo Yu glanced back at Li Jun, who was with two other teammates, and silently mouthed, Wait for me.

Wait for me. I’ll get you out of danger—wait for me.

“Let’s go,” Mo Yu said, pulling her hand free from Qing Xuan’s grip. She bent to adjust the dagger in her boot and the homemade darts at her waist, straightened, then gripped her black sniper rifle and strode into the unknown darkness.

Go wild, my mentally gifted madmen—what surprises do you have in store for me?

Despite the hospital’s battered facade, it was clear to any observant eye that this had once been a luxurious institution. Even after being baptized in blood, the place retained a certain startling beauty—the kind that made your skin crawl.

Their “recon squad” divided into five groups: one to stand guard, the other four to conduct the “map search.” Apart from her group, the other three had already taken over the main building’s three floors as their primary battleground. Mo Yu and Qing Xuan were left to search the side wing.

This side wing appeared far plainer than the main building, only two stories high, but its interior was more lavish by far. Because of the nature of what they were searching for, they had to check each room one by one. From the moment she entered, Mo Yu kept silent, communicating with Qing Xuan only through hand signals.

“You take that room,” Mo Yu instructed, pointing to the first solid wood door on the left, then turned toward the wine-red glass door on the right.

She paused before the wine-red door, frowning at the twisted, ruined image of a nude woman painted in black on the glass, her expression one of utter terror. Instinct told Mo Yu that the former occupant had been a sadistic pervert.

As the door behind her creaked, Mo Yu pushed open the ominous door before her. The room was filthy, blood streaked across the white carpet, forming a crimson trail into the inner room. She didn’t rush in. Instead, she swept the space with her psychic power, mapping out the rooms: a bathroom, a bedroom, a lounge, and the hall where she now stood. Though the only sound was her own breath, Mo Yu took no chances. Gun raised, she moved carefully forward—the bathroom held only some mangled limbs, but was otherwise clear. The bedroom: a suspiciously lumpy quilt—danger.

Her boots whispered against the wooden floor. She approached the bed, and, after unleashing a burst of bullets across the quilt, used an iron rod pried from the coat rack to lift the blood-soaked covers.

Beneath lay a woman, tightly bound with rope. Her face was deep purple, eyes and tongue protruding—likely strangled. Though dressed in a nurse’s uniform, her body was covered in lash marks and reeked of decay. Upon closer inspection, Mo Yu saw her skull had been smashed, brains oozing onto the floor.

Author’s Note: The new year is near—wishing all the girls health and happiness! Time to get back to the rankings... Honestly, writing zombie stories always scares me silly—how terrifying!