John Wang's POV
March 17th, 2025 — 8:41 PM
Longwan City — Linbei District, Three Blocks from the University
—
The ground trembled under our feet.
Not the earth — it was the sound. The weight of hundreds of infected dragging themselves over cracked asphalt and broken glass, drawn by blood, noise, and hunger.
We sprinted across the ruins, staying low behind rusted-out cars and shattered walls. Breathing hard. Footsteps light.
Every second the pharmacy stayed standing felt like a miracle, ready to run out.
Mu Qinglan ran ahead of me while gripping her bat. She retained her ruthless and aggressive movements from being a living dead. Shen Yifei stood beside me, gripping her spear so tightly her knuckles became white.
Ahead, faint gunfire echoed — short, panicked bursts.
"Close now," Qinglan muttered, her voice flat. Professional.
I could smell the blood even before we saw the building. Fresh. Heavy. Wet.
