After everyone regrouped, a heavy silence pressed down on them.
Each person knew very well that the hope of escaping was minuscule.
Lu Dongnuan was especially regretful, her insides twisting like a blood-crying cuckoo in winter, more sorrowful than sorrow itself—it hurt too much.
If she’d known it would come to this, she should have shamelessly insisted on staying there.
At least she could have nestled into a familiar corner, with nothing to think about except keeping her voice down so as not to attract those walking corpses.
Whatever Sister Jing had been through, Lu Dongnuan didn’t plan to dig into it.
Right now, she cared far more about how to get out of this hellhole.
According to Zhuo Lei and the others, most of the third floor had been cleared, but the path to the fourth floor was completely blocked.
Who had blocked it?
Was it a natural collapse of the building, or the work of monsters?
Or perhaps, were there still other survivors hiding in this building?
There was nothing to be read from Zhuo Lei and the others’ expressions, but precisely because of this, Lu Dongnuan felt more and more that something was being hidden from her.
Zhuo Lei’s group had arrived in the morning.
If anyone had gotten here before them, it would have to be at night.
But the chances of anyone moving around in the Dead Mall at night were slim—maybe just a night-shift security guard.
She’d seen a few Zombies in security uniforms crawling at the entrance on her way in.
Could it have been the security guards’ doing?
She wasn’t sure.
Either Zhuo Lei was hiding a crucial detail—like some troublesome mess lurking on the fourth floor—or it was for some even more melodramatic reason.
Suddenly, she remembered a few things Sister Jing had said before, as if hinting at something, and her mind ran wild with a cliché tragic drama.
‘Up there… could it be someone’s daughter who turned into a Zombie or something…?’ she guessed to herself.
Because of their fragile partnership, she couldn’t go check the blocked stairs immediately, in case it upset the others.
But being stuck in the middle like this wouldn’t work in the long run.
The current harmony was only because supplies were still plentiful.
When food and such ran out, that would be the real beginning of the apocalypse.
After all, when you think about it, once all the supplies were gone and everyone had been starving for days, would they chew on the Zombies below, or start with her—the soft, delicate, tender, and tasty one?
She’d definitely be the first to go under the knife.
This had nothing to do with morals or grudges—anything that happened would always have its circumstances.
Lose that foundation, and things would collapse; those who couldn’t adapt to the collapse would be eliminated by whatever new order emerged.
As for Lu Dongnuan herself, she was exactly the sort of person who could “adapt” to new environments—very, very easily.
Thinking of this, Lin Mo’s sharp critique floated into her mind at just the wrong moment.
Lu Dongnuan curled her lips, cursing silently: ‘Old schemer, he really sees through people.’
She subconsciously rubbed her wrist where she’d been cut before by that Expanding Knife.
‘If this were a story, I’d probably be one of those villain types.’
With that, she stood up.
The moment she did, a few pairs of eyes looked over at once.
Everyone remembered this doctor who had joined them halfway, her quick thinking, and her slick moves—how she’d toyed with the Zombie horde, changing the dreary atmosphere and sparking a flicker of hope, as if she might just pull off some miracle and change their fate.
They all thought she’d have some incredible solution for the current situation.
But, as Lin Mo had said, trusting her was about as reliable as believing that Qin Shi Huang’s steed was a Polar Bear.
“Hmm? Why are you all looking at me?” Lu Dongnuan was baffled by their stares.
She tilted her head, looking confused, “I’m just going to the bathroom.”
[・ヘ・?]
“It’s nothing,” Zhuo Lei replied with an awkward smile, “Go ahead, just don’t take too long.”
“Tch, gonna drop a big one,” Xiao Fang chimed in right on cue.
Lu Dongnuan glanced at the sign.
The restroom was way over in the eastern section of the mall—she’d have to walk a bit.
She said nothing more and turned to head that way.
Lu Dongnuan didn’t actually have any masterful plan to turn the tide.
She was just getting up to give herself some space to think.
The eastern section was mostly home and children’s goods—messier than the clothing area.
Stuffed toys were scattered everywhere, dust-coated and faded, looking like heaps of silent corpses.
Broken strollers and overturned furniture displays blocked parts of the way.
The light was dimmer here, with only the exit sign at the far end casting a faint green glow that barely outlined the surroundings.
The restroom was just around the next corner.
She slowed down and quietly gripped the piece of metal pipe tucked at her waist.
Not because she sensed any particular danger, but simply because Lin Mo had left her with a psychological shadow.
The women’s restroom door was ajar, darkness inside, and the sound of dripping water, faint and irregular, could be heard.
Lu Dongnuan nudged the door open with her toe.
She didn’t go in immediately, instead pressing herself against the doorframe, holding her breath and listening intently.
Apart from the dripping, there was nothing.
She took a deep breath, then slipped inside with a sudden movement, lowering her center of gravity as she went, holding the metal pipe horizontally in front of her and scanning the area with vigilance.
With the faint light seeping in through the door crack, she could just about make out the inside.
Most of the stalls were open, the sink area was a wreck, most of the mirror shattered, and dried, suspicious stains were splattered everywhere.
The air was thick with the smell of disinfectant, mold, and some other, harder-to-describe, faintly metallic scent.
After confirming it was temporarily safe, she relaxed a bit and walked to the innermost stall that looked somewhat intact, checking it for safety in the same way.
Mall bathrooms usually had no windows, so even in the day, it was still hard to see clearly.
She pulled a bit of red thread she’d found from her pocket and tied up her loose hair into a ponytail.
As she was doing so, she looked up and her gaze stopped on the loose cover of the ventilation duct above her head.
Behind the metal slats was thick darkness, silently luring her, or perhaps issuing a warning.
“The ventilation duct…” she muttered, then shook her head.
Instantly, her mind conjured an image of herself getting stuck halfway, unable to move forward or back, dying of dust inhalation or getting trapped by two Lin Mos at either end of the shaft.
Compared to that, making a rope from sheets and clothes to rappel down from a relatively safe area seemed a bit more realistic.
“Nope,” she whispered, quickly dismissing the thought, “with my stamina, I’d be done after a couple of steps—might as well be delivering myself as takeout.”
And she’d have to find enough strong, long material, and avoid attracting those “brothers” on her way down…
But the ventilation duct did look pretty spacious…
As she was lost in thought, weighing which death would be “easier,” Xiao Fang’s voice suddenly sounded outside the restroom.
“Doctor Lin, you’d better come check—Sister Jing doesn’t look too well.”
Lu Dongnuan’s expression instantly turned cold but she quickly composed herself, pushed open the stall door, and left the restroom.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her tone the perfect mix of concern and professionalism, “Wasn’t she fine just a moment ago?”
Lu Dongnuan followed Xiao Fang back quickly.
Sister Jing happened to fall ill now, of all times—far too suspicious.
Back at the makeshift base, Sister Jing was curled up in a corner, her forehead beaded with sweat and her breathing rapid.
Zhuo Lei was half-kneeling nearby, brows tightly knit.
Were they testing whether she was really a doctor, or was Sister Jing actually unwell?