Chapter 127: Quarantine Point
“There are eleven of us in total,” Chu Yang said, tallying the headcount. “Including Sister Wang and Niu Niu, that comes to one hundred and ten crystal cores.”
The guard captain took the heavy cloth pouch, poured just under half of the contents onto the wooden table, and carefully checked the cores one by one, weighing a few in his palm.
The bespectacled clerk beside him leaned forward to inspect them as well.
Once he confirmed the count and quality, the captain nodded and swept the sparkling stones back into the pouch. “The payment is in order. However, according to base regulations, every newcomer entering the city for the first time must undergo a mandatory twelve-hour observation period in the quarantine zone.”
He turned and pointed toward a cordoned-off section to the right of the main gates, completely enclosed by layers of rusted barbed wire.
Through the sharp wire netting, rows of dusty, uniform little structures stood in rigid lines.
“That’s the quarantine sector. You’ll only be granted entry into the city once medical checks confirm there’s no risk of infection. Little Zhang!” the captain barked toward the side.
A lanky, thin man with a narrow face and shifty eyes came jogging over. “Captain!”
“Escort these newcomers to the holding cells and get them settled.” Having handed off the assignment, the captain turned back to the registration desk to review paperwork with the clerk, completely ignoring the group from then on.
“Understood!” Zhang chirped obsequiously. Yet the moment he turned around to face the survivors, the flattering smile vanished, replaced by a cold, perfunctory smirk.
He sized up Jiang Jue and the rest of the squad, his roving gaze lingering for a few extra beats on the attractive faces of Jiang Lin and Lin Weiwei. He offered a flat, dry greeting: “Newcomers, huh? First time setting foot in N City Base?”
Noticing the man’s wandering eyes, Chu Yang casually took a step forward, blocking Jiang Lin from view as he replied in an easy tone, “Yeah. First time.”
Zhang gave a soft snort, his eyes skimming over Chu Yang’s seemingly slender frame with faint disdain. Without another word, he turned on his heel and led them toward the fenced-in perimeter.
As they drew closer, the newcomers saw that the dusty little shelters were constructed entirely from precast concrete slabs. Each room was roughly four square meters, looking less like a home and more like an oversized concrete coffin.
Every individual box had a heavy iron door facing a narrow, one-meter-wide central corridor. Set into the upper half of each door was a palm-sized observation slot reinforced with thick, welded iron bars.
Though late afternoon had arrived, the stifling heat showed no sign of letting up. The harsh sun beat mercilessly against the concrete and corrugated metal roofs, making the enclosed quarantine zone feel like a massive kiln. Beads of sweat formed before anyone had even stepped inside.
“Here we are,” Zhang announced, stopping beside a row of open doors and gesturing impatiently. “One person per cell. Pick whichever ones you want.”
“Once you’re in, pull the door shut until the latch catches automatically.”
“And remember—stay put and don’t make a racket. An inspector will come around shortly to take down your details and run a basic checkup.”
“Once twelve hours are up without any sign of mutation or infection, the staff will unlock the doors and let you through to the main city. Clear on the rules?”
Jiang Jue didn’t waste his breath, merely offering a brief nod. His sharp eyes scanned the empty compartments, and he walked straight toward the nearest door, stepping inside without hesitation.
Clang!
The heavy iron door slammed shut behind him. The sharp, mechanical click of the automatic latch locking in place echoed loudly down the suffocating hallway.
Chu Yang held off on picking his own room. Instead, he hurried over to the barred opening of Jiang Jue’s door and peeked inside.
The interior was stark and empty, made of bare cement walls and a stained concrete floor. Splotches of dried fluid and dark, suspicious grime coated the ground. Through the narrow slit, a stale, nauseating stench drifted out—a foul blend of damp mildew, unventilated air, and the faint, bitter sting of dried urine.
Chu Yang wrinkled his nose in disgust. Spending twelve hours locked in a box like this is going to be pure torture.
The rest of the squad began dispersing to pick their own cubicles.
Lin Xiao had remained dead silent the entire time. His fists clenched at his sides, his eyes fixed intently on Su Mubai’s rigid profile.
Feeling the gaze, Su Mubai turned and met his eyes for a split second. A complex, unreadable storm flickered in the depths of his gaze, but he said nothing. Turning away, he chose the cell directly adjacent to Lin Xiao’s and stepped inside.
Clang.
The heavy iron door shut between them, severing their connection entirely.
Wang Qiang picked a room at the far end, Li Yu took the one next to his, and Jiang Lin settled into the adjacent cell.
Young Little Yu looked at the cold, forbidding concrete boxes, his throat tightening with nervousness. Still, he took a deep, steadying breath, pushed open an iron door, and slipped inside quietly.
When it was Lin Weiwei’s turn, she froze before a half-open doorway, unable to take another step.
Peeking into the dark space, the filthy stains on the floor were in plain view. A wave of rancid, musty air hit her face, making her stomach heave.
She instinctively recoiled half a step, pressing a hand tightly over her nose and mouth. Repulsion and disgust filled her eyes, her expression twisting into a scowl.
Looking around, she saw that even the aloof and clean-obsessed Jiang Jue had entered his cell without a word, and no sound came from behind Su Mubai’s locked door.
Biting her lip in silent fury, she pinched her nose, tiptoed over the grime as if the floor were toxic, and reluctantly darted inside, pulling the door shut behind her.
Just as Chu Yang was about to claim the cell opposite Jiang Jue, an anxious, tearful voice rang out from down the corridor.
Zhang was pointing to two neighboring empty cells, his voice sharp and unyielding: “You get in this one. Little girl, you go into the one across the hall.”
Wang Li’s face went stark white in an instant.
Pulling five-year-old Niu Niu tightly against her chest, her voice cracked with panic: “Officer, please, that won’t work! My daughter is only five years old—she’s never been left alone in the dark before! These rooms are pitch-black and stifling hot; she’ll be terrified! Please, have some mercy and let us share a room. I swear I’ll keep her quiet and won’t cause any trouble at all!”
Zhang’s face instantly darkened, his tone turning harsh and abrasive. “Rules are rules! Every single person gets quarantined individually—it’s for the security of the entire base!”
“Young kids have weak immune systems. What if she’s carrying a latent virus that flares up in the middle of the night? What if she turns and takes a bite out of you? Who’s going to clean up that mess? We sure as hell won’t take the blame! You either separate right now, or both of you get the hell out of the base!”
His sharp, aggressive barking terrified the child. Niu Niu began trembling uncontrollably, bursting into terrified wails as she buried her tear-streaked face deep into her mother’s chest.
Desperate and on the verge of tears herself, Wang Li clutched her daughter tighter, repeatedly shaking her head in refusal.
Her frantic gaze swept the hallway, landing pleadingly on Chu Yang standing just a few paces away.
Chu Yang’s brow furrowed, and he shifted his weight, ready to step in—
Lin Xiao, who was halfway through his own doorway, whipped around at the commotion.
Seeing little Niu Niu crying in terror and Wang Li’s bloodless face, his eyebrows snapped together. A cold edge of anger sharpened his tone as he glared at the guard: “The kid is barely five years old. Are your rules carved in stone? Can’t you show some basic human flexibility?”
Zhang was already irritated by Wang Li’s begging, and being openly challenged by a newcomer set him off completely. He spun around, glaring at Lin Xiao with blatant hostility, his voice dripping with condescension. “Who the hell do you think you are? You think you have the right to tell me how to run this place? These rules exist to keep thousands of people alive! If you don’t like how we do things, pack your crap and get lost! Nobody begged you to come here!”
With that, he looked Lin Xiao up and down, his eyes oozing pure contempt.
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