82 The Journey to Find Family (Part Three)

The wall was far taller than she had estimated by sight. If it weren’t for the guardrail around the lift platform, Mo Yu would have feared she’d tumble off from vertigo. It took four or five minutes before the platform finally came to a slow halt, still leaving about a meter between herself and the top of the wall. Mo Yu thought: perhaps it was designed this way to prevent their own people from clambering straight up and suffering unnecessary harm.

Looking around, she noticed jutting steel bars on the right side of the lift, likely meant for climbing. The wall was thick; lingering here for long would make her a sitting duck for enemies. Suddenly, Mo Yu regretted coming during daylight.

But it was already afternoon, and in this season night fell early. She decided to wait a while longer on the lift, only making her move when darkness fully descended.

She kept herself busy in the meantime. First, she took out the rope Scarface had given her, fastening it to the steel bar, intending to slide down it later. But reconsidering, she realized she couldn’t risk wasting her only climbing rope just yet; once inside, she’d be left defenseless if she had nothing to secure her retreat. So, she slipped into her personal space with a thought.

After a brief reunion with her little companion, Mo Yu made her way to the Dimensional Store. Gazing at the dazzling array of weapons before her, she couldn’t help but envy those who could afford them all. With her exchange coins running low, she settled for a single thick hemp rope. Yet, even this was of far superior quality than any ordinary rope—enough to support her for what lay beyond the wall. With time to spare, Mo Yu browsed the rest of the weapons, but most were far beyond her means, so she flipped all the way to the last page.

Most items there were auxiliary tools: the same kind of hemp rope she had just bought, shovels, hoes. She checked her remaining gold coins—three or four hundred at best. She was torn between buying a weapon for self-defense or saving up for a higher-grade one. Then something caught her eye: a night vision goggle, so basic it couldn’t be simpler, distinguishing biological from non-biological forms by heat. Given the post-apocalyptic climate and the poor visibility at night, she bought it without hesitation. Now, after that purchase, she barely had enough left for a hoe, so she spent the rest without a second thought.

By the time she emerged from her space, sunset was bleeding into dusk. Mo Yu tucked away Scarface’s climbing rope and replaced it with her newly purchased thick hemp rope, tying it securely to the nearby steel bar, ready to fling it over the high wall as soon as night fell.

Impatience gnawed at her as she looked up at the sun, wishing for it to set faster. Maybe she was staring too intently, or maybe it was a trick of the eyes, but she suddenly felt the sun wasn’t sinking—it was as though clusters of flames were slowly being snuffed out. Startled, she shook off the thought.

“It’s time,” she murmured, turning away from the dying sun. She began preparing herself: she checked and cleaned her usual dagger, fastening it securely to her ankle, then wrapped her soft blade around her waist. The hoe was too bulky, so she left it in her space, knowing she could summon it with a thought if needed. Last, she donned the night vision goggles.

She quietly tossed the rope over the wall and, with utmost care, slipped on the goggles. At last, Mo Yu set foot on a land of sin she’d never dared imagine.

If the city of B could be likened to a place with a hint of life remaining after the apocalypse, then the area beyond this wall was the living hell Mo Yu had only heard of in rumors. As she straddled the wall, she took a good look at the desolation: not a single skyscraper, only barren fields choked with weeds, a sight that sent chills down her spine. She couldn’t fathom how such a deserted place could have such a terrible reputation.

Yet, within moments, Mo Yu realized how wrong she’d been. Thanks to her night vision goggles, she saw with perfect clarity even in the darkness. As she looked down from the wall, she saw heat signatures writhing in the center—figures locked in mortal combat.

She’d heard that people got out of here relying on their own skill, but she hadn’t expected such vicious internal competition. Wasn’t this just killing each other? Mo Yu watched as one heat signature crawled straight toward her. She turned to hide, but the lift platform had already descended to the ground. Now, she was stuck; she couldn’t hide, nor could she leave. She’d seen that man mercilessly cut another’s rope—clearly not a good person. If they met in direct confrontation, a fight would be inevitable. Mo Yu wasn’t afraid of fighting, but she feared the man would be ruthless, and she herself might not be able to kill another living person.

After all, since the apocalypse, her weapons had only ever been used to hack at zombies, never at the living. In her heart, she still believed that killing was a crime.

She crouched low, gripping the steel bars with both hands and feet, ready to risk it all if the man climbed over. But things didn’t unfold as she’d expected. Just as she heard the man scrambling up the wall, a volley of harsh gunshots split the night.

Half the man’s body had made it over, but he’d been hit somewhere vital. His face was ashen; he swayed precariously.

“Help me!” The man, startled by Mo Yu clinging to the wall, nonetheless clung to her hand as though she were his last lifeline.

Bang! Bang bang! More gunshots. The man struggled to haul himself over the wall. If Mo Yu let go, he would surely die even if he made it over; a fall from twenty or thirty meters was no joke. She saw his desperate, pleading gaze—it was the look of someone fiercely clinging to life. Instantly, Mo Yu thought of her father, who had once escaped from behind this very wall, and of her mother and brother, who might still be suffering. She gripped the man’s hand tighter.

She knew exactly what she was doing and didn’t regret it.

The man looked at her with gratitude, but his face was bloodless, sweat pouring from his brow. Even speaking was a struggle; all Mo Yu could hear were his faint groans.

Time was life now—every second precious. Mo Yu knew this, and so did the man.

“Get down!” Mo Yu pressed his hand to a protruding steel bar and deftly unfastened the bundle he’d been hugging to his chest, even after being shot. Clearly, it was precious to him.

“Why is it so heavy?” Mo Yu had meant to toss it down first, but it was unwieldy and oddly soft, as if something inside was alive. Warily, she stared at the man.

“It’s a child,” he said, seizing the last of his strength to climb over, hanging shoulder to shoulder with Mo Yu on the wall.

“Alive or dead?” Mo Yu was startled. She wedged the bundle between them, making their space even tighter, but also fixing the bundle in place.

“Alive. I gave them sleeping pills—they’re just sleeping.” The man unwrapped the bundle, revealing a small, round head turned away from Mo Yu, no more than four or five years old. The child’s face was gaunt and sallow, but for some reason, it reminded Mo Yu of her own younger brother.

The man had been shot several times; without urgent care, he wouldn’t last long. But Mo Yu was desperate to find her own family—she couldn’t tarry for these two.

“How will you get down?” she asked suddenly. Were they supposed to hang there forever? If they didn’t descend soon, exhaustion would claim them both.

“I brought a rope.” The man struggled to pull a bloodstained coil from inside his jacket. It didn’t look sturdy, but it was clear he’d come prepared. He carefully rewrapped the child and fixed them to his chest.

Mo Yu silently helped him secure the rope to the steel bars. Moved nearly to tears, he whispered much about the secrets inside the wall before he left, thanking her profusely and urging her to be careful. His voice was so weak, all Mo Yu caught were fragments—“child,” “demons,” “human flesh,” and so on. She did gather one key point: a group of people lurked just behind the wall, taking pleasure in gunning down those trying to escape their “paradise,” surviving by eating human flesh or dragging corpses for bounty. Mo Yu shivered with dread; thank goodness she hadn’t acted rashly or she’d be dead without knowing how. The man also said that there were rarely people trying to get in; most tried to get out. After the nightly tension eased, those people would drop their guard—if she wanted in, the time between now and dawn was her best chance.

She watched as the man made it safely to the ground, then, without hesitation, cut his bloody rope loose. It might have cut off her retreat, but for safety’s sake, it was the right choice.

Steeling herself, Mo Yu adjusted her night vision goggles and clung to the wall like a gecko. Peering down, she saw many flickering red dots.

Now she fully believed the man’s warning. She picked a spot where the red dots were sparse and began her descent.