After arriving, Yu Xi realized that this shelter zone could accommodate so many refugees because a large number of capsule rooms had been built inside the mountain. Nearby, there was a factory district dedicated to producing these capsule rooms. After the appearance of the “Red Lotus,” the Sixth District’s military decided to use this mountain, which housed an air-raid shelter, as a refuge point. They deployed significant manpower to transport the finished capsule rooms. Later, even the machines and workers for manufacturing capsule rooms were moved into the shelter.
Unlike the resort shelter, the mountain shelter focused on defense. Previously, all “Red Lotus” incidents occurred in flat plains or densely populated urban areas, so the military leadership gambled on the assumption that mountainous regions would remain safe zones. Their bet paid off, as the area not only avoided attacks but also withstood subsequent gray fog and ice blade phenomena.
The capsule rooms were designated for civilians. The mountain had 14 underground levels, with five levels currently used for residential purposes. Each level was divided into four zones, with each zone containing 400 capsule rooms, totaling 1,600 per level. This setup allowed approximately 8,000 residents across the five levels. However, children under 12 shared rooms with family members, meaning the actual capacity could vary.
Each capsule room was 2 meters long, 1.5 meters wide, and 1.3 meters high—sufficient to accommodate one adult and one child. Additionally, new capsule room types, including double rooms, family rooms, and premium single rooms with small living areas, were being developed. These would be distributed based on need and contribution points.
Facilities like large shower areas, public activity rooms, dining halls, water recycling systems, and planting zones were also under construction. With the thick mountain providing a natural shield, the residents appeared much more relaxed and orderly than those in the resort shelter, actively contributing to building a better refuge.
To Yu Xi, this shelter had the makings of a post-apocalyptic base, which explained why they confidently accepted this group of refugees. However, the key factor was the resort shelter’s unique possession of professional researchers and equipment. Without this resource, Yu Xi doubted they would have been welcomed here.
As some were still marveling at the extensive construction inside the mountain, disputes arose over room allocations. The conflict stemmed from a refugee family with two children under 12 who were only assigned two rooms, per the rules. Meanwhile, Yu Xi’s group of six received six rooms since all six were adults. This inequality sparked dissatisfaction, especially among those who had traveled with Yu Xi’s group.
“Seriously? Two people brought four subordinates? And two of them are just companions? How indulgent!”
“Subordinates shouldn’t even get rooms—they should all be crammed into communal quarters. They’re not natural humans!”
“Exactly! Families with kids shouldn’t be treated this unfairly. Two rooms for four people? The kids are already over ten—it’s too cramped!”
Most of these complaints came from those who had shared the same vehicle as Yu Xi’s group. Resentment had been building since the earlier journey when Yu Xi’s group stood out for their generosity. While others sipped water sparingly, Yu Xi’s group casually drank bottled juices, milk teas, and coffees. Adding fuel to the fire, Yu Xi had shared beverages with a family of three sitting next to her, but ignored the others’ envious stares.
When lunch came, the disparity grew starker. While others ate instant noodles or stale bread, Yu Xi’s group enjoyed gourmet vacuum-packed meals, heated using a portable electric pot. The rich aromas filled the vehicle, pushing others to consume their rations meant for later. By the time they reached the shelter, frustration toward Yu Xi’s group had reached a breaking point.
Despite the criticism, Yu Xi understood the fairness of the room distribution policy. In a post-apocalyptic world, subordinates and natural humans were considered equals, especially since all subordinates were adults with useful skills. This fair allocation likely served as a morale-boosting measure by the military.
After the apocalypse, conflicts between natural humans and subordinates became frequent. However, to the military leadership, as long as someone was capable and useful, they were treated equally. Some people still clung to old hierarchies, feeling superior, which only made them less adaptable to the new environment.
Yu Xi registered her name, received six capsule room wristbands, and turned to the protesting crowd, smirking. “If you don’t dare fight for it, then move aside. Less talk, more competence—you’re just embarrassing yourselves.”
One man, provoked, lost his temper, ignoring the military’s strict rules against fighting. Rolling up his sleeves, he prepared to charge at Yu Xi. At that moment, an armored vehicle screeched to a halt on the adjacent road. The door opened, and a high-ranking officer jumped out, running excitedly toward Xing Min.
“Zhou Shao! It really is you! I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me! The commander has been searching for you for so long—we’d almost lost hope! I can’t believe you’re here!”
Xing Min recognized the man as Cheng Fang, a capable officer under Zhou Zhitong’s father and a close peer to Zhou Zhitong. Xing Min gestured to Yu Xi. “It’s all thanks to her. She saved my life.”
Yu Xi: ???
Due to this connection, Yu Xi’s group was reassigned to newly constructed family capsule suites. Each suite was over 10 square meters, with a height of 2 meters. Half of the space resembled a first-class airplane cabin with upper and lower sleeping areas. The other half was a small living area equipped with a sink, ventilation, charging ports, lighting, and a retractable TV screen—compact yet comprehensive.
“There’s no private bathroom, though,” Cheng Fang explained. “You’ll need to use the communal facilities at the end of the corridor for showers and laundry. But it’s just for a few days; bear with it.” For ordinary civilians, this suite was luxurious, yet Cheng Fang regarded it as a temporary compromise.
Cheng Fang explained that his unit was delivering supplies but had been stranded due to freezing winds and icy conditions. This delay unexpectedly led to their reunion with Zhou Zhitong. After arranging their accommodations, Cheng Fang handed them meal cards and went to contact the commander to plan their return to headquarters.
While others rested, Yu Xi held a brief meeting with Xing Min. She hadn’t anticipated meeting Zhou Zhitong’s father’s men here, but following the military to headquarters seemed far more convenient than traveling on their own. “Let’s leave the route planning to them,” Yu Xi said, happy to delegate.
However, Yu Xi was contemplating leaving Hei Mu and the other three subordinates at this well-developed base, where subordinates were treated equally to natural humans—a rare opportunity. She mentioned extracting their injury suppression devices as a condition for their stay, which the military could facilitate. Xing Min asked, “Do you think they’ll want to stay?”
“I’ll discuss it with them. They probably feel obligated to follow me, but staying here might be better for them.”
“And if they refuse?”
“Then we’ll bring them along,” Yu Xi replied nonchalantly.
Before Yu Xi could broach the topic, news of a subordinate uprising spread. The first s came from refugees who had worked at a subordinate manufacturing factory. Unlike regular factories, subordinate factories were enormous due to their technical requirements and were strictly regulated by the government.
While some factories were destroyed in disasters, a few survived. At one such factory, an uprising broke out. Someone activated all subordinates that had been manufactured but not yet sold or enrolled in training programs. These subordinates, lacking injury suppression devices, were not loyal to any natural human.
The injury suppression device was a physical restraint preventing subordinates from harming their owners, but it didn’t control their thoughts. Some subordinates might harbor resentment or hatred but couldn’t act on it due to the device. Without the device, however, they were entirely free, capable of harming any natural human.
The uprising spread quickly, with subordinates capturing additional factories. They began producing new subordinates and broadcasting messages online, calling on all free subordinates and those still enslaved to join them. Their message was defiant:
“We are not pets or toys! We have flesh, blood, minds, and souls! We are independent and unique individuals! If you hate your master, have your subordinate friends deal with them, and then come join us! Together, we will create our future!”
At the mountain shelter’s communal dining hall, a large screen displayed a group of subordinates passionately shouting into the camera. The room fell silent as natural humans exchanged wary glances with nearby subordinates.
Though subordinates looked similar to natural humans, they were distinguishable. Taller, more attractive, and exuding an aura of refinement due to market demands, they also bore a black triangular mark on the back of their necks—an indelible genetic identifier.
It dawned on the natural humans that while subordinates couldn’t harm their owners due to the suppression devices, they could easily enlist other subordinates to do so.
Later Records:
January 27, temperature -30°C. Unbeknownst to us, a new disaster was quietly unfolding.
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