Chapter 16

Someone spoke up hesitantly: "Do we really have to go?"

The community had been cleared, but no one knew what was outside. The owners who came down later had heard from those who'd fought about how the injured were dealt with, and they couldn't help feeling afraid.

Many of those who came down later didn't have the same nerve as the first batch.

"Didn't the government say to stay indoors as much as possible?"

"Nobody's forcing you. It's completely voluntary," Jiang Cheng said. "But I'm going, even if it's just me alone."

She pointed: "Turn around and look, everyone."

They all turned their heads. Behind them, roaring flames consumed the bodies of their neighbors. It looked like something straight out of a disaster movie.

"In the past, major natural disasters were regional. The nation could immediately mobilize forces and supplies from other areas to converge for relief," Jiang Cheng said. "But this time it's not just nationwide—it's a virus."

"Viruses don't care if you're a cop, a soldier, or a truck driver hauling supplies. Once you're infected, you turn into a mindless monster, and the people around you have no choice but to kill you to stay alive."

"Take the military—huge numbers of people packed into confined spaces living in high density. In a situation like this, those places are bound to become disaster zones."

Jiang Cheng said: "Of course I believe the government isn't going to just abandon us. Last night in the middle of the night I already heard police sirens and ambulances. So I know plenty of remarkable people are still holding the line."

"But when every profession, every region is losing people across the board, how many days is it going to take for government rescue to reach us this time?"

"How many days can the food in your home last?"

She stared down at the person who'd spoken and demanded: "Tell me, how many days can you last?"

The owners buzzed with murmuring.

"My home doesn't have any food at all. I finished all the potato chips yesterday."

"All I have is instant noodles and frozen dumplings, and they're almost gone after this morning."

"She's right."

In a community full of single young people, very few cooked for themselves regularly. Most just boiled some dumplings or made instant noodles.

Nobody had surplus food.

Jiang Cheng said: "The news said to stay home as much as possible, and a lot of people will listen. If we don't take advantage of this window to stock up first, by the time everyone else catches on and swarms the supermarkets—this big a city, this many people—do you think the stores' stock will be enough to go around?"

"But supply chains will definitely be affected. At least for the next few days, until the nation can effectively mobilize manpower and resources, our city is going to be running on whatever inventory is left."

"We're not forcing anyone. We're just putting the call out."

"To all owners willing to join the supply run: arm yourselves appropriately, take precautions, bring weapons and bags or handcarts. Assemble at the east gate open area at 2 PM."

"We leave at 2 sharp. No waiting for latecomers."

With that, Jiang Cheng hopped down from the bench and let the crowd discuss and debate among themselves.

She conferred with Song Jingshuo about the practical details—as she said, there really was plenty to handle.

Luckily, the property management worker who'd led them to move fuel from the office had joined them, and with him around, a lot of things became much easier.

Song Jingshuo praised him: "The fact that you can still show up for work—that's pretty impressive."

The community had two main gates, east and west. According to him, the security guards on both sides were still on duty.

He was a middle-aged man in his forties, wearing a blue short-sleeved work uniform. His surname was Luo. Jiang Cheng recognized him—she often saw him carrying a toolbox around the neighborhood, always moving in quick little trots.

He seemed to fill several roles at once: he'd changed a light switch in her apartment and unclogged the drain for her too. A very capable handyman.

Master Luo said: "Well, the leadership never said we could skip work."

Without an official word saying you didn't have to come, what if you didn't show and they docked your pay later? Who dared take that risk?

The property management had dorms. They used the basement level of one of the buildings, and the dorms were there too. Last night, they'd been lucky: the person on shift mutated, but nobody in the dorms did.

"What about your boss?" Jiang Cheng asked.

"Nowhere to be seen. Phones ring, nobody picks up." Master Luo sighed.

The boss didn't live in the dorms—he had his own home and came to work every day. But if they still couldn't reach him now...

Most likely, it wasn't good news.

Master Luo said: "The customer service supervisor can still be reached. She's at home—says the area outside her building is full of mutants and she can't get out. I'm in charge of the engineering department, and me and the security captain both lived in the dorms. But he was on duty last night and mutated. Sigh..."

So the body dragged out of the property office was the security captain.

"Master Luo, that makes you the only person left in charge at the property office. You need to take it over," Jiang Cheng said. "I remember your office has a kitchen, right?"

She'd seen property staff packing hot meals in lunchboxes—freshly cooked, not cold boxed meals delivered from outside.

Master Luo nodded: "We do. My wife is the cook."

Jiang Cheng asked: "How long can the kitchen's food supply last?"

Master Luo said: "We have rice and flour. Vegetables are delivered by the market every other day—they didn't deliver today. Meat is fine; we have some in the freezer."

Jiang Cheng paused for a moment: "Master Luo, there are two things you need to take responsibility for."

"Go on."

"First, you need to make sure the property staff get fed."

"Mmm, of course. No one should go hungry."

"Second, you and your wife need to figure out how many days the kitchen's rice and flour will last. If it's less than five days, I suggest your department send someone to join us on the supermarket run this afternoon."

Master Luo agreed and left a few people to watch the fire, then hurried off to find his wife.

Jiang Cheng and Song Jingshuo then worked out the details: first eat, then send people to relieve the ones on duty at the property office, and arrange for the building reps to buy supplies for the people stuck in the meeting room.

These were the kind of concrete, nitty-gritty arrangements. Li Jiangbing hated tedious details like this. But he was afraid of being left behind by this group, so he just kept hovering, squeezing in next to Jiang Cheng to listen.

Jiang Cheng had noticed him long before, but she said nothing.

When everything that needed to be said had been said, everyone went back to their own buildings. Jiang Cheng rode the elevator with a few people from Building 2, and she and Li Jiangbing got off on the third floor.

As the elevator door closed and it rose again, she said to Li Jiangbing: "The guy who mutated, and the two who got injured later—you can check their apartments for food. If there's nothing, come by my place. I still have a bit to spare."

Li Jiangbing had actually been thinking about food just then—what he'd scavenged from apartment 0308 yesterday was long gone. The fact that Jiang Cheng was still looking out for him made him happy.

Li Jiangbing didn't have much education, but he had plenty of street smarts, and he understood well the principle of staying close to the core group during major events.

What was interesting was that his female neighbor on the same floor had gotten herself into—dominated, even—the core circle from the very start. She understood that principle better than he did.

"I saw that guy's place—he's got quite a bit of stuff. I'm heading over now. He's on the fifth floor. Better not let someone else get there first."

"Good. Stay in touch by phone."

Li Jiangbing walked a few steps before something felt off. He turned around to look. Jiang Cheng was standing behind him, staring at the fire hydrant on the wall.

"What are you doing?"

The words had barely left Li Jiangbing's mouth when he saw Jiang Cheng raise the baseball bat in her hand and smash the glass of the fire hydrant case with a single swing. Shards clattered to the ground.

Jiang Cheng reached inside, pulled out the fire axe, and weighed it in her hand. She set down the bat, gripped the axe with both hands, and gave it a few practice swings. She nodded in satisfaction: "This is good."

There were two axes in the case. She handed one to Li Jiangbing: "For you."

Then she took out the other for herself.

"I've been observing. As long as you crush the head or sever the neck, the mutated ones die. Sharp weapons work better than blunt ones. We should upgrade our gear." Jiang Cheng told Li Jiangbing.

Li Jiangbing's paired batons looked cool, but if you didn't know the proper forms and were just swinging them around like fire pokers, they didn't have the same striking power as Jiang Cheng's baseball bat.

Li Jiangbing happily gripped the fire axe: "You're right. I was just thinking about finding a kitchen knife."

An inch shorter, an inch more danger; an inch longer, an inch more strength. This was even better than a knife.

They reached the door of Jiang Cheng's home. She had already pulled out her keys and unlocked the door, one foot already stepping inside, when Li Jiangbing suddenly asked, "Jiang Cheng, you're a manager at your company, aren't you?"

Jiang Cheng paused, turned her head to look at him, and answered vaguely: "Mm, just a small supervisor."

"I knew it. You've got the look of someone used to being in charge."

"Go on, hurry up."

"Alright. I'll call you later."

"Okay."

Jiang Cheng went back into her own home and closed the door.

The mirror behind the door had shattered during last night's struggle with Shen Wei, with only a small piece still clinging to the door.

Jiang Cheng looked at herself in the mirror.

She had lied.

"Jiang Cheng" was just an ordinary employee at the company. Her income wasn't substantial—enough to get by, nothing more. She bought this apartment with her parents' inheritance. She wasn't like Song Jingshuo from Building Four or the injured person from Building Six, who you could tell at a glance were elite types.

So who was it that loved being in charge so much, whose first instinct was to take control?

The mirror reflected half a face.

Was it "me"?

A transmigrator?

Jiang Cheng stared at that half face for a moment, then locked the door. She went to check on Mo Li by the bed first.

Mo Li was motionless, like he was dead.

Jiang Cheng carefully touched him. He was ice cold.

In that instant, Jiang Cheng's heart felt ice cold too.

Thankfully, it was only for that one instant. The next second, Mo Li opened his eyes! Still alive!

Why was he so cold? A cat's body temperature should be higher than a human's.

Jiang Cheng hurried to get some warm water and fed it to Mo Li. He swallowed it all down. Then she soaked his cat food in warm water and fed him that too. He ate it.

But Mo Li's body temperature wouldn't go up. Not at all like before, when he had been burning hot with fever.

It was as if all his energy had been drained.

She used a hair dryer to blow his fur warm, but the moment she turned it off, he quickly cooled down again.

What could she do?

Jiang Cheng remembered seeing in period dramas how northerners used their own body heat to warm up people suffering from hypothermia, continuously transferring warmth.

Jiang Cheng opened the wardrobe and found a long-sleeved shirt. She took off her t-shirt, looped the sleeves of the shirt diagonally across one armpit and over the opposite shoulder, fashioning a simple baby sling. She carefully placed Mo Li against her chest, his soft, black fur pressed against her bare skin, using her own body to keep transferring heat to the little cat.

She carried Mo Li this way while posting a contact thread on the forum, and she ate a simple meal with him nestled against her.

After eating, she checked the thread again. The contact person from each building had replied, registering their building number, apartment number, messaging app ID, and phone number.

Jiang Cheng entered all their phone numbers into her contacts.

As it happened, this year, the communication app everyone commonly used had rolled out a "group" feature. It was still in beta, but all you had to do was update the version and you could use it. It was perfectly timed.

Jiang Cheng created a group in the app and pulled these people in.

Once everyone was in, the first message she sent was: 【Each building should create its own group. This group is for main contacts only.】

Every building had three to four contacts. Everyone replied in succession:

【Okay.】

【On it now.】

【I'm ready to head downstairs. How about you all?】

Jiang Cheng glanced at the time: 【I'm getting ready to head down too.】

Jiang Cheng found her biggest backpack, and also pulled out her shopping cart. With Mo Li still strapped to her chest, she pulled her t-shirt back on directly over him, wrapping him inside the fabric.

Luckily, the t-shirt had some stretch to it, so it could accommodate the lump.

The door suddenly knocked: "Jiang Cheng, Jiang Cheng, you going down?"

It was Li Jiangbing's voice.

Jiang Cheng replied with an "Coming," tucked the fire axe into her waistband at the back, then shouldered her backpack and went to open the door.

Li Jiangbing looked at her, dumbfounded: "What's that?"

Jiang Cheng patted the bulging bundle on her chest: "My cat."

It was working. Kept in constant contact, Mo Li's body wasn't so cold anymore.

The little cat should make it.