Apocalypse Star House Hoarding-Chapter 319

Min Cheng and his crew had been trapped on the highland for over five months.
Their production team originally consisted of five celebrities and more than 80 staff members.
At first, they learned about the drastic changes happening in the city through mobile networks and television news. The shocking footage of citywide plant mutations terrified them, and despite making countless distress calls, they received no response.
The grass on the fields began to grow wildly, shooting up from a few centimeters to over a meter in height. The orchard trees mutated, producing bizarre, misshapen fruits. The animals in the pasture grew larger and broke free. The vegetables in the greenhouse transformed into sprawling vines resembling those found in tropical rainforests. Fish and shrimp in the ponds not only mutated and grew in size but also started leaping onto the shore, flopping wildly in the mud and on pathways—until they were swiftly snatched away and devoured by giant predatory birds.
Every new change on the highland filled them with fear.
During the first couple of weeks, the production crew, along with a few tourists and park staff, barricaded themselves inside the lodges, keeping all doors and windows tightly shut. No one dared to step outside. Instead, they used binoculars and security cameras placed throughout the highland to monitor the situation from a distance.
Luckily, the highland’s elevation kept them relatively safe—apart from flying creatures, no other animals could easily make their way up.
Additionally, the lodges were sturdy. For soundproofing and insulation, all the windows were double-glazed. Each lodge also had a storage basement stocked with various supplies.
As a result, by relying on electricity, water, and stored food, they managed to survive.
However, it wasn’t long before the internet went down. Mobile signals became sporadic, and soon after, even television broadcasts ceased.
With no way to contact their families and friends outside the highland, they were left in the dark about the outside world. Anxiety spread among them, and the atmosphere grew increasingly tense.
Some people started planning to leave, while others opposed the idea, leading to multiple heated arguments.
Eventually, a group of people—those who were deeply worried about their families and children—armed themselves and left the lodge.
And just like that, they vanished without a trace.
However, those who remained behind had a clear view of what happened through the office’s surveillance monitors. They saw that the group not only managed to safely cross the highland’s fields and forests, but also successfully boarded the cable car to descend the mountain.
This made the rest of the group waver. Many began making plans to leave as well.
At that time, they were still thinking in conventional terms—while the highland had water, electricity, and food, they knew they couldn’t stay there forever. Eventually, they had to go down and see what had become of the outside world.
But on the very night that most people were preparing to leave, swarms of giant luminescent butterflies arrived, clinging to the lodge windows.
Their enormous size and the sheer number of their thin, writhing legs made some people nauseous just from looking at them.
Panic spread through the lodge. Everyone scrambled to shut off all sources of light. The air was filled with the cries of frightened children, the sounds of furniture being knocked over in the chaos, and the hurried footsteps of people rushing to hide.
Every time a noise came from inside the lodge, the glowing butterflies outside would flutter their wings in unison, their spindly legs rubbing together to produce an eerie rustling sound.
It was a nightmarish scene.
Everyone grabbed whatever they could use as a weapon and hid—some in closets, others in windowless bathrooms. No one dared to sleep.
The luminous butterflies lingered outside for a full day and night before finally dispersing. However, they left behind a thick layer of phosphorescent scales covering the lodge’s outer walls and the ground nearby.
By this point, those who had been planning to leave the highland could no longer endure staying. They hurriedly packed their belongings and made their escape while the butterflies were gone.
But they didn’t get far.
Soon after stepping outside, they felt a burning sensation in their throats, noses, and eyes.
Without professional protective gear, their masks and clothing weren’t enough to shield them from the toxic scales. They collapsed, writhing on the ground in pain, realizing too late that the scales were the cause.
They stumbled back into the lodge in a panic, where the others frantically used clean water to wash them down. It took a long time, but they finally managed to alleviate the burning pain.
Even so, their injuries required a long period of recovery. After that harrowing experience, any remaining thoughts of leaving the highland were completely crushed.
**
A few days later, a group of survivors from the nearby county, having overcome numerous life-threatening obstacles, finally reached the highland via the cable car.
When they first set out, there were over a hundred of them.
By the time they arrived, fewer than forty remained.
The newcomers brought news from the outside world—what had started as a crisis in a few major cities had gradually spread, radiating outward until even smaller towns were no longer spared from the mutations of plants and animals.
Before the situation in the county town worsened completely, this group had risked their lives to break through, following online survival tips that suggested seeking refuge in areas where wild plants had always grown unchecked.
They knew that the nearby ecological park had a highland surrounded by dense bamboo forests. The plant growth there was relatively limited due to the environment. Moreover, it had water storage tanks, filtration systems, generators, and wind turbines. The buildings were sturdy, and food was abundant.
The lodges, which had previously only been at 40–50% occupancy, suddenly became overcrowded. At first, the original residents were overjoyed—this was the first time in nearly four weeks that they had seen outsiders.
But soon, disputes over room assignments, food, and water began to arise.
Naturally, the two groups split into separate factions. The production crew initially tried to assert dominance using their celebrity status, but in a world on the brink of collapse, survival was the only thing that mattered. No one cared if someone had been a director, screenwriter, or a famous star. Clout, endorsements, and popularity meant nothing anymore.
Among the five celebrities, Min Cheng was the first to grasp reality and adapt.
Over the following weeks, he deliberately avoided bringing up his identity as an entertainer.
At a critical moment, he decided to step forward and apologize to the other group, sincerely expressing his willingness to cooperate.
Being an entertainer, he had a natural advantage in charm and approachability, which ultimately helped ease tensions between the two sides.
From then on, they began to work together.
The survivors from the county had some knowledge of animals and plants. Through trial and error, they identified which mutated fruits, vegetables, poultry, and fish were still safe to eat, which had become dangerous and should be avoided, and which new plant properties could serve as medicine. They also discovered symbiotic relationships between certain creatures, which they used to reinforce the security of the lodge area.
The production team, on the other hand, excelled at strategic thinking and planning.
Some members drafted a set of rules to regulate cooperation between both sides, ensuring mutual support. These rules were printed and posted in every lodge. Others dug up old-model phones and attempted to reconnect to radio frequencies, intermittently picking up fragmented news from the outside world.
Some emphasized the need for night watch shifts, assigning specific guard posts. Others used sturdy, waterproof tent fabric to craft better protective gear.
While occasional disputes still arose, overall, the two sides maintained a complementary working relationship.
Fortunately, after enduring an abnormally hot January and February, temperatures finally began to drop. The cooling weather significantly reduced the activity of the mutated plants and animals, allowing them to breathe a little easier and move about more freely without constant vigilance.
During this time, they intercepted scattered radio transmissions—messages about evacuation efforts in the most overgrown cities, severe overcrowding in shelters, government advisories urging civilians to avoid unnecessary travel, and repeated warnings that rescue efforts were insufficient, encouraging people to rely on self-sufficiency.
They also learned about the state of the surrounding areas. The closest known refuge was several hundred miles away.
After weighing their options, the majority chose to remain on the highland.
The situation outside was far worse than their current one. Here, they had food, water, and electricity. They could cook meals, stay warm, and overall, their conditions were far better than most others in the outside world. In the end, most people abandoned the idea of leaving.
The next two months after the temperature drop were relatively stable. The group relied on the oversized, mutated fruits and vegetables and the capture of relatively weak poultry to maintain their food supply.
This stability, however, reignited some people’s ambitions. Some started making plans to leave the highland to explore the situation, while others focused on long-term survival and proposed farming.
The highland already had designated planting areas, complete with seeds, fertilizers, and tools. With the recent rise in temperature providing favorable conditions, the decision to begin farming was made.
To ensure fairness, both groups contributed manpower to the effort. Min Cheng and two other celebrities also joined the agricultural team.
Their original plan was to start planting as soon as the rain stopped.
However, after days of continuous drizzle, the highland’s temperature suddenly began to rise at an alarming rate.
Today, the rain had finally stopped, but the air was thick with humidity and unbearable heat. The farming team quickly found themselves overwhelmed and began removing their protective gear.
The gear was too thick and poorly ventilated. Besides, the highland had been peaceful for a while. Many had already been lax with protection while capturing poultry in previous days, wearing only minimal safety gear, and nothing had gone wrong.
Eventually, everyone ditched their protective layers, opting for a lighter approach to finish the day’s work quickly and return to the lodges sooner.
But before they could get far into their tasks, they suddenly froze.
From outside the greenhouse, a strange buzzing sound emerged—deep, rhythmic, like the low hum of several low-flying aircraft passing overhead.
One of them immediately reacted, shouting, “Could it be a rescue helicopter?!”
Without hesitation, they dropped their tools and ran outside.
As the first person dashed outside, the others hesitated for a moment, glancing at each other before following suit.
However, those who rushed out just moments later froze in horror at the sight before them.
The person who had been the first to step outside was now lying on the ground, his entire body covered in a thick layer of dark green. He convulsed violently, suffering in unbearable agony, yet unable to make a sound.
Then, the dark green layer wriggled—and suddenly, it peeled away.
Beneath it lay a skeletal figure, his flesh completely drained, his skin tightly clinging to his bones like a dried-up corpse.
Someone in the crowd couldn’t hold back a scream. Among the group who had escaped from the county, one person immediately recognized this horrifying scene.
He had seen bodies like this before—back when they were fleeing through the city.
On their journey, they had come across a bamboo forest. Wanting to take a shortcut, some had attempted to pass through it. However, after only a few steps inside, they spotted two corpses that looked exactly like this one.
No one knew what had caused such a terrifying death. Most of them chose to retreat and take the longer route around the forest, but a small group insisted on pressing forward.
In the end, they never saw those people again.
The commotion from the group caught the attention of the dark green swarm hovering in the air.
After circling twice, the swarm suddenly turned and rushed toward them.
Panic erupted. People spun around to flee, but in their blind terror, some crashed into one another, stumbling over fallen bodies.
Some thought about the protective gear they had left behind in the greenhouse—but could those flimsy, makeshift suits really stop these creatures?
Others remembered the small farm produce storage shed nearby. It had doors and intact glass windows. Back when they made their emergency plans, that shed had been one of their designated retreat points.
But the people on the highland had grown too comfortable for too long. Faced with this sudden crisis, most had forgotten their planned response strategies. In the chaos, everyone scattered in different directions, colliding with each other, knocking others down, turning the situation into utter mayhem.
Those who fell behind were quickly overtaken by the dark green swarm.
The creatures engulfed their bodies in an instant.
Min Cheng, who had lagged slightly behind, turned his head just in time to see what was happening. The sight made his scalp go numb.
The dark green mass wasn’t a cloud or a toxin—it was a swarm of mosquitoes.
Not the kind that had grown into giant monsters. These were only two or three times their original size, and their color had changed from dark brown to this eerie shade of green.
But unlike the mosquitoes of the past, these now acted in coordinated swarms, moving with the synchronized precision of ants or bees.
No wonder they hadn’t recognized them at first.
Min Cheng hesitated for a second too long, and in that moment, another dense wave of green shot toward him.
“Ah Cheng!”
Someone in the fleeing crowd shouted his name in desperation. He had been running alongside Min Cheng just moments ago—how had he fallen behind so quickly?
Not far ahead, the farm storage shed was already within reach. A few people had made it inside, while others were still rushing in.
But the first ones inside were already preparing to shut the door.
The man sprinted forward, reaching out to stop them from closing it completely. He turned back and shouted again, “Ah Cheng! Run!”
He knew that, at this moment, everyone wanted to survive. Even among those inside the shed, some were from their production crew.
But in the face of such terrifying creatures, human instinct prioritized self-preservation.
It wasn’t that they were heartless—it was just that if they didn’t close the door in time, the people inside would die too.
Even so, in his heart, Min Cheng had always been different.
After all, he had once stood at the peak of stardom. The world had changed, but in his eyes, Min Cheng’s place hadn’t.
But now, he couldn’t selfishly ask others to risk their lives for him. The only thing he could do was buy him a few extra seconds.
Yet… it seemed like it wouldn’t be enough.
He looked up, watching helplessly as the dark green swarm descended over Min Cheng’s head—
Then, suddenly, fire erupted.
A figure shot out from nowhere, dashing in front of Min Cheng.
“Get down!”
As the fire burst forth and engulfed the swarm, the person grabbed Min Cheng by the collar and yanked him downward. Pressing a hand firmly on his shoulder, they forced him into a half-crouch while turning their body slightly to shield him from the burning insects.
In that brief moment, Min Cheng looked up from his crouched position.
The person had their head turned slightly away, so he could only see their pale jawline—and a slender arm, raised to block the blazing, dying mosquitoes from reaching him.
She wasn’t wearing protective gear—not even long sleeves!
“Be careful!” Min Cheng shouted, but the warning only earned him a puzzled glance from her.
Their eyes met for a brief moment, and he froze. He hadn’t expected her to be this young.
Yu Xi moved swiftly. After burning the mosquito swarm and rescuing him, she grabbed him without hesitation, ran a couple of steps toward the storage shed, and tossed him to the person holding the door. Without stopping, she turned and rushed back to save the others.
This was her first time encountering a mosquito swarm like this. Their color reminded her of the bamboo sea down in the valley.
Mosquitoes were most abundant in bamboo forests, but with the two-thousand-meter altitude difference between the valley and the highland, even mutated mosquitoes hadn’t been able to fly this high before.
It seemed the days of continuous drizzle had not only caused the bamboo sea to grow several meters taller but had also triggered another mutation in the mosquitoes of the forest.
Fortunately, during her earlier drone reconnaissance, she had noticed the strange “dark green clouds” hovering over the southwestern side of the highland. That had prompted her to head in this direction just in time. If she had been any later, most of the people here would already be dead.
Those who were already completely covered by the mosquito swarm couldn’t be saved. Yu Xi grabbed a few people who were just about to be swarmed and hurled them toward the shed’s entrance. Then, she focused entirely on burning the mosquitoes.
She didn’t bother covering her face with a mask, nor did she hesitate to use 【High-Temperature Perfume】 at full force. Efficiency was the priority in battle.
As she continued incinerating the mosquitoes, another wave of the swarm approached.
However, this group seemed to sense danger. They hovered in midair, reluctant to descend.
Yu Xi shot them a glance, then adjusted the 【High-Temperature Perfume】 from level three to level five, increasing the spray’s range. Taking a few quick steps, she leaped onto the three-meter-high outer wall of the storage shed. She sprinted along the top of the wall, then jumped high into the air—pressing the trigger mid-air.
The moment the fire erupted, the mosquitoes lingering in the sky were instantly engulfed in flames.
Yu Xi landed lightly on the ground, while behind her, the mosquito swarm burned like fireworks, scattering embers as they fell.
Inside the shed and greenhouse, the survivors stared in stunned silence, unable to speak for a long time.
Through the glass window, Min Cheng watched the young woman outside, dazed.
His heart, which had been pounding from fear moments ago, was now racing uncontrollably for an entirely different reason.