Chapter Ten: The Goal Toward Which We Strive

“Police station and hospital?”

Everyone asked in confusion at the same time. Qi Xi’s suggestion was so sudden that they struggled to keep up with his train of thought.

Yet, as soon as the question left their lips, the meaning became clear. They were all adults, after all, their minds sharp and quick. One place meant weapons, the other meant treatment.

But things were far from that simple. Along the way, they would encounter countless zombies. The police station was manageable—there wouldn’t be too many zombies there—but the hospital would be a completely different story, swarming with the undead.

Anyone who’d ever been to a hospital could imagine it: not a place of silence and gloom, but a marketplace, teeming with people, voices boiling over, bodies pressed together. Instead of chilling emptiness and misery, it was a place of quarrels and crowds—Why are there no beds? The corridors? The corridors are full too? Then what kind of hospital is this?—So expensive? I can’t afford it!—Is there really no way to treat this anymore?—If you can cure the illness, no matter the cost, we’ll find a way to pay—Excuse me, how do I get to this department?—Such voices echoed through one of the three strangest places of the twenty-first century.

Though this was a small county town, lacking advanced medical equipment and gravely ill patients, it was equally bustling. Was it really possible to go there? A pile of mutated zombies would be enough to bury anyone alive.

“We can go to the police station, but I don’t recommend the hospital. There’ll be too many zombies there—going would be suicide,” said Li Feidao, leaning against the wall.

“Feidao’s right,” Nan Housheng agreed, heaving his heavy body with difficulty. “If we need medical supplies, we’d be better off searching a pharmacy or somewhere like that.”

Qi Xi nodded, conceding the point. He hadn’t considered everything. After a moment’s thought, he said, “Then let’s go to the police station first, then a pharmacy.”

Xigua, understanding the key issue, asked, “Who knows the layout of this county town well?”

“I do. I used to drive a taxi here—I know every place by heart,” replied Qiu Xiaoyan from the bedside.

“Very good. This building still has water, and that’s a necessity for life, but there may not be electricity—or whoever lives here might be too stingy to use it. So, there must be candles somewhere. Xigua, go see if you can find some,” Qi Xi instructed after a moment’s thought.

Xigua, already knowing exactly where the candles were, pretended to search. In less than half a minute, he brought back a candle, and, taking the lighter from Qi Xi, lit it.

He used the lighter to melt the base of the candle, sticking it firmly onto the battered table in the room.

Qi Xi walked over and pulled open the drawer. Inside were various odds and ends: ink, tattered newspapers, an old brush, a ballpoint pen, a magnifying glass, a novel, and a money box containing a single yuan and fifty cents.

After rummaging for a bit, Qi Xi managed to find half a notebook tucked between the newspapers.

The ballpoint pen was clearly scavenged—its tip was in poor condition. Qi Xi moistened it with saliva, just enough to make it draw lines, but writing slowly was impossible; only fast strokes would leave a mark.

Everyone watched Qi Xi’s actions intently, observing his swift preparation and the composure on his face, secretly admiring him. To remain so calm and resourceful in such circumstances—just as Li Feidao had said—he was no ordinary man.

Beside the table was the bed, and closest to Qi Xi sat Xiao Fengyu. She gazed at him, her eyes unblinking, transfixed by his focus. This attentive man gave her an unprecedented sense of security. She had known despair and sorrow, questioned how she could survive in this world, but now, with him here, she felt as if every hardship could be overcome, as if she could go on living forever.

Qi Xi sat down on the bed without hesitation and handed the notebook and pen to Qiu Xiaoyan.

Xiao Fengyu, sitting between Qi Xi and Qiu Xiaoyan, felt breathless, her heart pounding inexplicably. Was she really falling for this man? Was it because he’d saved her? Because he’d reached out when she was at her most desperate?

Qi Xi was completely unaware that a woman in this world had fallen for him. Even if he knew, he’d have no such thoughts. First, taking a woman out of this world would cost a hundred thousand points. Second, whether she could survive was still an unknown, for soon, the earth would become a radioactive wasteland after a cataclysmic nuclear explosion. Qi Xi saved her out of his own moral code—help when you can—not out of affection. As a professional, principled traveler, forming attachments lightly was a foolish mistake. He always abided by that rule.

“Draw a map of the town,” Qi Xi instructed. “Make this place the center, show the direction of the police station and the pharmacies, and mark all escape routes. Try to avoid the county center, the crowded neighborhoods, and the shopping centers.”

Qiu Xiaoyan, receiving the notebook and pen, listened and then looked at Qi Xi with a troubled expression. “That’s complicated. Let me think.”

“Take your time, there’s no rush. The candle will last a while, and even if it burns out, we’ll light another. But make sure everything is marked accurately. I’ll use this map to plan our best course of action.”

Qi Xi smiled, then left the bed and returned to the worn-out straw mat.

“And also, we can’t stay here forever. We need enough weapons, enough rooms, enough food. The only thing we can do now is hold out until rescuers arrive.”

Hearing Qi Xi’s words, hope kindled in everyone’s eyes. “Will there really be rescuers?”

“I think so. It’s only a matter of time. If not, then we’ll need even more supplies,” Qi Xi replied after a moment.

Looking at Qi Xi’s calm demeanor, everyone relaxed. They felt much more at ease.

Unconsciously, the center of the seven-person group shifted from the formidable Li Feidao to Qi Xi.

Though this world was overrun by zombies and all reason and law had crumbled, leaving only the rule of the strong, Li Feidao, for all his prowess, was only an exceptional ordinary man in Qi Xi’s gamified worldview. He was still just an ordinary person. Facing a clearly intelligent and resourceful Qi Xi, the group naturally gravitated toward the latter.

The night, though long, finally passed.

At dawn the next day, around five o’clock, before the sun had risen, everyone was up. They ate some high-calorie food—chocolate, soda—and prepared to set out.

Initially, Qi Xi didn’t want Nan Housheng, Liang Fei, or Xiao Fengyu to go along, as they would only slow things down. But since leaving meant never returning, he had no choice but to bring them.

Qi Xi had switched his weapon to a hatchet scavenged from the building’s former owner. The others had also armed themselves with whatever they could find—fire tongs, kitchen knives, and other battered implements.