Chapter 2: Settling Down
The next morning, Zhao Man slept in until ten o’clock. The cheap twenty-point motel offered terrible blackout protection; bright light flooded the outside world even in the dead of night, leaving Zhao Man tossing and turning, unable to shake the feeling that it was perpetually broad daylight.
Packing his belongings, Zhao Man hoisted his backpack onto his shoulders. Inside were five sets of clothes and the four vials of nutrient solution he had bought yesterday at twenty points each.
Following the directions Tang Heng had given him, Zhao Man arrived at the District 35 Housing Administration Office of the West Outer Ring. Behind the counter sat a neat, clean-looking young man.
“Hello, I’d like to inquire about buying a home. Is that alright?” Zhao Man asked politely.
Perhaps noticing how fair and clean Zhao Man’s face looked, the clerk offered a warm smile. “Of course. Please, have a seat for a moment.”
The man retrieved a tablet from beneath the counter, tapped the screen to unlock it, and guided Zhao Man over to a long bench. He began going through the available listings one by one.
“Do you have any specific preferences? The properties along the Sixth Ring near the garrison, the hospital, and the shopping center are all apartments. District 35 sits on the western edge of the Sixth Ring; the closer you get to the eastern sector, the steeper the prices get, but the security is much better. Take a look and see what suits you. If you find something you like, we can process it right now.”
Handing the tablet over to Zhao Man, the clerk stood up to greet another person who had just walked through the door.
Holding the tablet, Zhao Man first tapped on the listings near the garrison. There were three units available, all one-bedroom-one-living-room layouts around thirty-odd square meters. Two were on the top floor, priced at 380 points, while the unit on the third floor was listed at 415.
The base’s apartments typically had eight stories—five above ground and three underground. Zhao Man browsed through the options and found that the cheapest residences in District 35 were on the lowest basement level, costing roughly one to two hundred points. The most expensive sat on the third floor, with some running upwards of six hundred points.
Failing to spot anything suitable, Zhao Man looked up and asked, “Excuse me, could you tell me about the patrol teams assigned to District 35?”
It was evidently a common question. With two quick taps, the clerk pulled up the patrol roster for District 35. Zhao Man slowly scrolled down the list until, third from the bottom, a familiar name caught his eye: Tang Heng, Captain of Patrol Brigade 12, District 35, West Outer Ring.
“Pardon me, are there any properties left in the sector Captain Tang Heng is responsible for?” Zhao Man asked.
“There are,” the clerk replied. “Captain Tang’s jurisdiction covers the westernmost edge of the base, directly abutting Elephant Mountain. Have a look and see if that’s acceptable to you.”
Elephant Mountain was named for its uncanny resemblance to an elephant, its trunk-like ridge stretching straight into the interior of the base.
Zhao Man tapped into the patrol zone for Brigade 12 and discovered that the area consisted mostly of detached properties. Moreover, there was a plot of land that had yet to be sold.
Noticing that Zhao Man had tapped on the foundation plot, the clerk noted, “That plot is eighty square meters. It can only be purchased as a whole parcel, and because it borders Elephant Mountain, you would need to install security defenses before the snow season sets in if you choose to buy it.”
“How much are the plot and the security system?”
“The land is three points per square meter. The most economical security system runs for two hundred points.”
Zhao Man browsed around a bit more. The ones he liked were hopelessly out of his budget, and the ones he could afford paled in comparison to this plot. In the end, he shelled out a total of 500 points: 240 for the land, 200 for the defense installation, 50 for the construction fee, and 10 for basic utility setup.
Construction proceeded at blistering speed, utilizing the ubiquitous dull-green synthetic paneling commonly seen on the base’s trash containers.
A crew of four workers operated an array of construction drones. Drone No. 1 excavated the foundation; No. 2 drafted the structural model; No. 3 poured the fast-setting compound; No. 4 handled flash-curing; No. 1 then stripped the scaffolding, while No. 2 trimmed the edges, leaving Drones 3 and 4 to complete the fixture installations. The entire process ran like an automated assembly line.
The elephant trunk ridge formed a natural loop inside the base perimeter, and Zhao Man’s property sat right inside that curve. Factoring in the irregular terrain, the left flank of the house pressed flush against the base perimeter wall, while the rugged, boulder-strewn trunk curved all the way to the front entrance. While the workers were assembling the structure, Zhao Man paid an extra ten points to have the upper facade anchored directly into the outcrop. This clever adjustment expanded the total footprint to roughly one hundred square meters.
In a mere half a day, Zhao Man’s home was complete. It resembled a sturdy green yurt, ringed by perimeter walls two to four meters high and capped with a domed roof. With the dome included, the entire structure stood six meters tall. The roof featured multiple layers: a heavy outer iron shell designed to deflect wind, sand, and kinetic impacts, and a modular inner ceiling that adapted to various environmental modes.
Following Zhao Man’s specifications, the interior was partitioned down the middle. The left half served as his living quarters. Spanning four meters across, it was split into four functional sections. The largest central space was the bedroom, flanked by open-concept areas on either side. Tucked into the far left corner was a compact bathroom and shower. The lavatory was fully integrated into the underground plumbing, flushing away waste automatically without water and equipped with a built-in air purification system. Between the bathroom and bedroom sat a kitchen that opened toward the right, crowned with a translucent skylight.
The right half formed an enclosed courtyard. The entire grounds had been leveled and paved with an unfamiliar quick-drying composite. Two doors, front and back, connected respectively to Elephant Mountain and the main roadway.
Pushing open the rear door, Zhao Man found that being “adjacent to the mountain” was an understatement. Between the house and the jagged rock formation lay a drainage trench, two meters across at its widest and practically flush against the foundation at its narrowest. Rows of drainage grates were embedded into the composite surface.
Two steps out the door brought him right to the boulders. Beyond the crags, which stretched an estimated ten meters back, lay a dense bamboo grove, giving way farther up to a dark, looming forest. The base’s massive perimeter wall plunged across the crags and vanished into the contours of Elephant Mountain, with only a faint stretch of concrete visible in the distant canopy.
The defense apparatus was mounted across the rear yard and rooftop: a high-voltage grid, sonar interference emitters, and a precision laser sniper system.
Zhao Man lay flat on the hard bedroom floor, yet his chest swelled with pride and excitement. Twenty years old, and he had bought a detached home with a yard entirely out of pocket. Wealth and fortune felt like they were just around the corner.
When he woke, every muscle in his body protested. The unforgiving floor had turned his back and waist into a map of aches. Rolling his neck until it popped, Zhao Man pulled a vial of nutrient solution from his pack, downed it, and locked the door behind him to go shopping.
After sinking over 500 points into the plot, structure, and basic fixtures yesterday, he was left with just over two hundred points—and not a single piece of soft furnishing to his name.
Arriving at the market, which was housed beneath a cavernous greenhouse-style canopy, he browsed among the base-operated depots and private stalls. Zhao Man headed into a base supply store first, picking up a hoe, a shovel, a machete, a dagger, a cleaver, a pot, bowls, chopsticks, two washbasins, a collapsible water barrel, an assortment of everyday tools, ten storage sacks, a sack of mutated potatoes, a crude wooden plank bed, a table, and two stools. The entire haul came out to five points. Seeing the size of his purchase, the shopkeeper even threw in a hand-woven mat.
The mat was plainly the work of an apprentice. The uneven weave seemed to be stripped from rough vine fibers, scratching at the skin the moment fingers brushed against it.
He then paid an additional ten points for delivery and scheduled a drop-off window before heading back to the Housing Administration Office. There, he spent eight points to activate his gas, water, and power accounts and book an appointment for utility hookups.
By the time everything was settled, midday had already arrived. In this wasteland era, anyone without a specialized trade survived by scavenging. Heading out into the wild at noon was far too late, so Zhao Man turned his gaze toward the bamboo grove beyond the crags behind his house.
Opening the back door, he looked up at the bamboo swaying on the mountain slope. After a moment of hesitation, he slung his pack over his shoulders, gripped his machete, slipped out the rear door, and scrambled up onto the jagged boulders.
The boulders were as tall as a man. Standing atop them, Zhao Man could see the perimeter wall directly ahead. Fortunately, the sheet-metal barrier was topped with a curved canopy wired with a high-voltage defense grid; otherwise, intruders could have breached the property in minutes.
Zhao Man slid the machete into his pack and picked his way cautiously across the rocks. Deep crevices separated each stone, some wide and others narrow. Along one outcrop, he spotted a patch of wild creepers bearing small clusters of fruit. He glanced around, carefully committing its position to memory.
Maintaining a vigilant pace, he picked his way over the deceptively distant-looking crags, stumbling along for ten minutes before finally reaching the edge.
Standing at the foot of the outcrop, Zhao Man wiped the sweat from his forehead and peered into the bamboo grove. It was dead silent, devoid of the cicada chirps from his previous life. The bamboo stalks were remarkably thick—the widest would have strained the arms of a grown man to wrap around—yet none grew particularly tall, capping out around ten meters. Despite the scorching heat of the perpetual-day season, the bamboo foliage remained a vivid, defiant green.
Spotting a young shoot about the thickness of a pinky finger, Zhao Man severed it with a single stroke. The pole was roughly two meters long. After stripping away the side branches and leaves, he slipped the machete back into his pack, climbed onto the boulders, and began sweeping and poking the terrain ahead with the bamboo stalk. Once he was satisfied that nothing moved, he crouched down to prod the crannies, making sure the ground was solid and free of hazards before setting to work scanning the flora in his “safe zone.”
Snapping a wild stem, he pressed its oozing sap against the terminal’s biosensor.
Beep-beep. High-radiation vegetation. Inedible.
Beep-beep. High-radiation vegetation. Inedible.
Beep-beep. High-radiation vegetation. Inedible.
For half an hour, every single plant in the safe zone failed the test. Parched and sweltering, Zhao Man wiped away the sweat pouring down his skin. Even with the sun hidden behind overcast haze, the humidity was stifling, soaking his clothes through. About three meters beyond his cleared perimeter lay a fallen stalk of dried bamboo, thick as a man’s calf. Operating under the golden scavenger rule—never return empty-handed—Zhao Man decided to drag it back for firewood.
The bamboo lay on its side, its root end pointed directly toward his house. Poking the ground ahead with his guiding pole, Zhao Man advanced and hacked the trunk with several swift chops.
A sudden, faint rustling sound broke the stillness.
Zhao Man froze. He scanned the undergrowth in every direction, but caught sight of nothing. An instinctual knot of panic tightened in his chest. Grabbing the severed bamboo, he retreated swiftly into his safe zone, scrambled over the boulders in three frantic bounds, and dropped down flush against the perimeter wall.
Fueled by sheer adrenaline, he hoisted the hefty bamboo log so it spanned the crags, checking both ends to verify that no living creature had hitched a ride.
He looked left toward the boulders, right toward the bamboo, and back toward the security of his house. In the end, curiosity won out. Zhao Man crept back toward the bamboo grove, crouching low atop a boulder to peer down below.
He swept the area back and forth several times without seeing a thing. Just as he picked up his bamboo pole, ready to turn back with a sigh of relief, his peripheral vision caught movement.
A long, slender green tail.
A tail? A snake?
Zhao Man scrambled back down into his courtyard, then immediately climbed onto an outcrop to look around. These loose rocks wouldn’t do a thing to stop a snake.
Flustered and alarmed, he remembered that Tang Heng commanded the patrol unit for this very sector. Without hesitation, he dialed his comms.
