Apocalypse Star House Hoarding-Chapter 162

Several TV stations broadcasted the news simultaneously. Zhou city’s local stations had long ceased operations, so the broadcasts came from other cities, mostly aerial footage. Even from this distance, the images were heavily pixelated.
Inside the shelter, surrounded by iron mesh fences, the scene was catastrophic: collapsed buildings, overturned cars, supplies soaked in blood, and corpses everywhere.
A massive, physically evolved blood ghoul lay sprawled near a building not far from the fence. The building had a corner smashed in, and two tanks poised for attack were crushed and twisted beyond recognition.
The grotesque monster’s body was uneven and lumpy, with parts of its blown-apart torso and shoulders bulging as if something was trapped beneath its skin. The heavy pixelation of the news footage obscured the details.
Corpses surrounded the blood ghoul in heaps, most of them soldiers who had given their lives trying to rescue those in the buildings. Not a single person escaped.
The news anchor, speaking in a somber tone, announced the shelter’s complete annihilation. Based on analysis, the chaos likely started internally, with outbreaks occurring simultaneously across multiple areas of the shelter.
A massive wave of infected had emerged within the shelter overnight, most in the second or third stage, exhibiting extreme aggression. The failure of the perimeter checkpoints was apparent.
The once-silent night erupted with roars and terrified screams, drawing all nearby infected to the shelter, including several giant mutations.
The military, already suffering heavy losses from their urban rescue missions, was outnumbered and overwhelmed, resulting in a one-sided massacre.
Yu Xi had witnessed such scenes countless times—especially in apocalyptic worlds where ruined cities were piled high with corpses. Yet, the images on the screen still made her frown. Those were the bravest among them, ordinary people with families.
Civilians died while fleeing for their lives, but these soldiers perished while saving others.
The stark contrast between passive and active sacrifice was poignant. No matter how many times she saw it, the sight of these courageous, selfless warriors moved her deeply.
“If only one day, all of this could end—these disasters, this apocalypse, this suffering…”
Min Min, staring at the blood-soaked footage, turned pale with fear. She couldn’t help but feel relieved that they had been driven away by their group earlier. Otherwise, they might have become part of that carnage.
But her relief was tinged with profound sadness. If even a military-guarded shelter could fall, what hope was left? Where could they possibly go?
Would this infection-induced mutation ever end? Could the world ever return to normal?
Her mother, noticing her anguish, took her hand and said, “Don’t think too much. Some things are destined. Didn’t we think we were doomed a week ago?”
“That’s right, sis! We thought the city’s giant monsters made this the most dangerous place, but here we are, still safe in the hospital. As long as we’re together, we’ll get through this!”
Min Min ruffled her brother’s hair and glanced at Yu Xi, who was leaning on the other side of the couch, switching channels on the remote.
Lately, apart from disaster coverage, the TV stations mainly aired updates from researchers tirelessly studying the infection’s characteristics. While much of the information confirmed what Yu Xi had already deduced, she watched attentively each time.
Min Min noticed something her mother and brother hadn’t. Yu Xi seemed to possess abilities far beyond the ordinary, ensuring the hospital’s safety.
She hadn’t told anyone about her nightly escapades with her “brother,” climbing out of windows on the third or fourth floor instead of using the doors.
Sensing Min Min’s grateful gaze, Yu Xi turned and shushed her, just as she had the first time Min Min caught her sneaking out.
The building’s residents had stayed inside, burning the infected bodies in the surgical rooms. They remained unaware that the city was far from as safe as Min Cong claimed.
The hospital’s relative safety was due to several factors: the perimeter fence slowed infected nighttime wanderers, the inpatient building was eerily silent even during the day, and Yu Xi systematically cleared nearby infected.
Her primary goal was to stockpile supplies, and she had refilled seven to eight-tenths of her 512-cubic-meter Star House warehouse.
Her inventory ranged from home appliances and electric scooters to clothes, food, daily necessities, medical supplies, and protective gear—enough to open a medium-sized superstore.
If not for the fact that completing this mission would upgrade the Star House and its storage capacity, she would have worried about where to stash all the items left in her simulated apartment.
They stayed in the building for several more days.
One day later, the water supply, which had lasted nearly two weeks, was contaminated. Two days after that, the electricity failed.
The intermittent internet connection also cut off, severing their access to external news. Soon after, phone signals disappeared entirely.
Yu Xi realized it was time to leave. She needed to find a safe shelter for Yu Zhengqing and couldn’t stay in a city teeming with infected.
The afternoon before their departure, she invited Min Min’s family and the remaining residents to the tenth floor for a meal.
She prepared a gas stove hotpot with a beef broth on one side and a spicy dual hotpot on the other, bringing out various ingredients scavenged from supermarkets:
Beef tripe, marbled beef, hand-sliced lamb, luncheon meat, duck blood, and yellow throat.
Konjac knots, enoki mushrooms, cabbage, potatoes, and yam.
Toppings like minced scallions, garlic, celery, and a variety of spicy seasonings.
Others were unaware that Yu Xi had been stocking up supplies from supermarkets. However, every hospital room in the building had a refrigerator and a simple electric stove for family members to prepare nutritious meals, so any occupied room still had stored food. While their meals lacked variety, they were not short on essentials.
When they saw the dishes Yu Xi brought out, they envied her well-stocked supplies. With the power outage the previous day, it made sense to eat perishable items before they spoiled, so no one suspected anything.
Among the group were: Fang Lei, the volunteer doctor who stayed behind; Zhao Yu, a nurse who had completed quarantine; and a young couple. The wife had been admitted for an appendectomy, and her husband had stayed with her in the general ward. When someone in their ward became infected and mutated, the wife was exposed to contaminated blood and quarantined but fortunately remained uninfected.
A total of nine people had lived together in this empty building for so long that they had naturally developed some camaraderie, even if they didn’t see one another often.
Tonight would be their last together before leaving this sanctuary. Their tentative plan was to head to the Pian Mountain shelter in the southwestern outskirts of the city.
But no one could predict if it would be safe.
“I’m so scared…” Zhao Yu murmured as she picked up her chopsticks, only to set them down again.
Her neighborhood had fallen in the first few nights, cutting off contact with her family. After being quarantined for days, she emerged to find only a handful of people left in the building. Now, alone, she was consumed by anxiety.
Her words brought to mind each person’s lost or disconnected family, casting a heavy gloom over the table. Even with delicious food before them, they were too choked with emotion to eat.
Yu Xi retrieved a pack of cola from the fridge (
Star House warehouse
) and returned to find the atmosphere at the table somber—everyone, that is, except her system.
The pale, refined-looking man was silently and methodically eating his fruit platter.
A piece of watermelon.
A cherry.
A slice of pineapple.
One bite after another, and in the short time she had spent fetching drinks and observing the others, he had already eaten a third of the platter.
Yu Xi: …
Sensing her gaze, he turned toward her, his calm eyes under long lashes holding a faint ripple of curiosity, as if to ask,
What’s wrong?
Yu Xi: …
Forget it. She understood—Yu Zhengqing’s body was in the late stages of a terminal illness and required frequent, small meals. It was, after all, 3 PM, just in time for his snack.
She placed the drinks on the table and scanned the group. “Why isn’t anyone eating?”
“Sorry, Xiao Xi…” Min Min, sitting beside her, gently tugged her hand. “We’re not really hungry. We’re all worried about the shelter.”
Yu Xi sighed softly. “I know everyone feels hopeless and uncertain about the future, wondering what the world will become or if they’ll die in their sleep one day.
I’m scared too, but I don’t want to let those negative emotions consume me. That kind of despair breaks you from the inside.
Life and death aren’t terrifying—they’re universal laws we can’t interfere with or predict. So we should treasure each day we’re alive, stomp out negativity, and find ways to relax. For me, that’s enjoying good food. Let’s eat, rest well, and worry about tomorrow when it comes.”
“She’s right! There won’t be delicious hotpot at the shelter. I heard they only serve military rations!”
Min Cong, young and easily distracted, was the first to pick up his chopsticks, lifting everyone’s spirits.
The next day, the nine of them departed in a military truck.
Yu Xi had found the vehicle during one of her outings. It had overturned on the road, with some damage to its body, but it was still operational after her inspection. She brought it back to the hospital and parked it outside the inpatient building.
Their destination was Pian Mountain shelter, which had been ed safe before communications were cut off.
Knowing that the southwest road out of the city was blocked, they planned to exit southeast, using suburban roads to bypass the city.
The suburban route was flanked by wide fields, offering no hiding spots for infected during the day. Without human voices or light to attract them, infected were unlikely to wander there at night.
The journey was relatively smooth. The truck was driven by “Yu Zhengqing,” and while Yu Xi initially had doubts about a system driving, he quickly mastered the vehicle, driving fast and efficiently—well, aggressively.
When they encountered roadblocks in the city, he either rammed through with the truck or drove over sidewalks and flowerbeds to bypass obstacles.
The passengers in the back were pale from the bumpy ride, and even Yu Xi felt a bit carsick. Meanwhile, the system remained stoic and composed.
Yu Xi: …
Thankfully, the roadblocks were standard traffic jams, not the pileups of cars and corpses that Min Min’s group had encountered earlier. They never got completely stuck.
Once they exited the city, the roads became clearer, and by noon, they finally reached Pian Mountain shelter.
To their surprise, they arrived at the Pian Mountain shelter just as a convoy of fully equipped military trucks was filing out in an orderly fashion. Occasionally, they spotted armored vehicles mounted with weapons. The pattern of the convoy didn’t resemble a mission—it looked more like… a relocation.
Yu Xi, wearing her mask, got out of the truck to inquire about the situation. As she approached the convoy, several military personnel stopped her.
Keeping a cautious distance, they answered her questions.
That was when she learned they had arrived during the shelter’s relocation.
Although Pian Mountain’s situation was better than the Eastern shelter’s, the administration was deeply shaken by the latter’s fall. After repeated appeals to higher-ups, they received orders yesterday to relocate to a military base half a day’s journey away.
The new base was partially underground, with sturdier and safer surface structures.
The Pian Mountain shelter had completed packing its personnel and supplies during the previous day and spent the night in silence. The relocation began this morning. With the shelter’s large population and stockpiles, about a quarter of the convoy remained.
Among this remaining convoy, two-thirds were civilians. Those with cars drove themselves, while the rest were transported in military trucks, with two armed armored vehicles accompanying the convoy for protection.
Upon learning that Yu Xi’s group had come to seek refuge, the soldiers directed them to a medical station at the entrance for screening. They would only be allowed to join the convoy if they passed the checks; otherwise, even following the convoy was prohibited.
“You can determine this so quickly?” Yu Xi asked, surprised.
“Yes,” one soldier replied curtly, maintaining distance as they had yet to be screened. He directed the group to exit their truck and escorted them to the medical station for blood tests.
At the station, no one needed to undress to check for wounds. Instead, they presented identification, had their faces verified, and provided a small blood sample before waiting for results.
Ten minutes later, Yu Xi’s results came back first. She was called over and handed a safety card bearing her photo, name, and ID number.
“That’s it? Is this result accurate?”
“Yes.” The soldier distributing the card glanced briefly at her youthful, delicate face and nodded. “Rest assured. This is a new device developed by our research team. The blood test results come out in ten minutes, with an accuracy rate of 99.99%.”
As he spoke, his expression relaxed, and he gestured toward a large silver-gray armored RV parked near the warehouse entrance. Several soldiers were swiftly loading supplies into the vehicle.
“See that vehicle? Inside are our Pian Mountain base’s researchers—several of them are top virology experts and geneticists. They developed the device and are already working on a blood serum vaccine. Pian Mountain is completely different from the Eastern shelter. The administrators here are exceptionally capable. You’ve come to the right place.”
Soon, the results for all nine of them were complete, and everyone passed.
The soldiers returned their disinfected backpacks, though their military truck—clearly not their property—was requisitioned. They were reassigned to ride in one of the convoy’s military trucks.
The entire process was efficient and professional, earning Yu Xi’s quiet admiration.
As they were escorted to the assigned truck, they passed by the silver-gray armored RV. While the others remained oblivious, Yu Xi and the man walking beside her exchanged a glance.
They both heard it: faint growling noises coming from within the vehicle.
The military truck they boarded was larger than the one they had driven. Its covered rear compartment featured two rows of seats facing each other, accommodating up to twenty people.
When they arrived, about half the seats were already occupied.
As Yu Xi climbed aboard, a familiar voice exclaimed in delight, “Xiao Xi! Min Min! Is it really you? You’re alive!”
That voice…
Yu Xi looked up and saw Wu You.
They had escaped L City and crossed into C Country together. Though often the first to panic and cry in dangerous situations, Wu You had uncanny luck and always managed to survive.
Besides Wu You, the truck carried Xiao Nan and another classmate. Yu Xi’s group quickly boarded, and Xiao Nan grabbed her and Min Min, crying with joy.
Having shared life-or-death experiences during their flight, meeting again in the wake of disaster was an indescribable relief.
The convoy soon set off.
Inside the truck, most of the passengers were familiar classmates and their families. They shared their hardships and consoled one another, brimming with hope for the military base shelter ahead.
About an hour later, the convoy passed through a small town. The bloodstains on the roads and the bodies in the corners left everyone silent.
The town had been a tourist destination they had visited before, now reduced to a ghost town. Its dark, hollow buildings likely concealed countless dormant infected.
Thankfully, the drivers were aware of the urgency and quickly led the convoy out of the area.
However, seven or eight minutes later, Wu You glanced at the sky through the truck’s open flap, his face showing confusion.
“That’s strange. Why did the sun disappear all of a sudden? The weather forecast said it’d be sunny all day!”
Almost as if responding to him, a bolt of lightning tore across the sky, followed by a deafening thunderclap.
Moments later, dark clouds rolled in, plunging the entire sky into gloom as though night had fallen.