Chapter 229 — The Post-Apocalyptic Life
Luo Xun and Yan Fei were the last of the group to check out the new gaming room. The moment they stepped inside, they found that the original layout had completely changed. The “naughty castle” play structure had been moved to the entrance, and in the depths of the room sat a massive, red-themed inflatable bouncy castle that had just been inflated today.
Little Xinran was giggling and bouncing around on it, her face flushed red. Xu Mei and Song Lingling had also kicked off their shoes, playing along on the bouncy castle in their clean socks. However, the adults didn’t dare get too rowdy, fearing that if they jumped too enthusiastically, they might accidentally launch themselves right over the “perimeter wall.”
Luo Xun looked at the three ladies inside in utter speechlessness. He glanced around and asked, “Where’s the little guy?” Their dog was always attached to little Xinran’s hip; why wasn’t he up there with them?
Li Tie, who was resting on a bench by the entrance, pointed toward the ball pit. “He’s in there, hanging out with your son.”
Hearing this, the two walked over and saw the puppy crawling around inside the pit filled with plastic balls. Their baby, Baozi, was strapped into his stroller, eyes wide as dark grapes, reaching out to grab the little trinkets dangling from the handlebar.
Right beside the stroller were four animal-shaped rocking chairs meant for toddlers. Two of the chairs sitting side-by-side were occupied by a couple currently flaunting their affection—Wang Duo and Zhang Su.
It was fortunate that both of them were relatively lightweight; otherwise, sitting on the plastic chairs would have surely crushed them.
Aside from the ball pit—which could be drained and repurposed into a small inflatable wading pool for the kids—this playroom also contained the four rocking chairs, a small swing, and an “adventure zone” composed of various doors, tunnels, and slides that allowed the kids to crawl through everything. The exit of the slide led directly into the ball pit where the puppy was currently causing a ruckus.
Additionally, a small corner of the room was set up with a circle of miniature tables and chairs, allowing the children to play tabletop games or complete their homework.
“Whenever we find stuff like this in the future, we’ll just haul it back on our way and pack this room to the brim.” Luo Xun scanned the area before crouching down beside Baozi’s stroller with a smile. Seeing Luo Xun appear, Baozi stopped grabbing at the dangling toys, instead reaching out his arms and babbling in “alien language” at him.
Their child was growing up day by day. Even though they were living in the apocalypse, creating this children’s playroom ensured he could still enjoy the happiness of his childhood.
Seeing Luo Xun crouching nearby, radiating a bizarre, maternal glow that even made the PDA-flaunting Wang Duo and Zhang Su feel overwhelmed, the couple stood up. Zhang Su cast a strange look at Luo Xun. “You should consider having a few more brothers for him.”
Luo Xun shot him a sideways glance. “One child is plenty for any family. You two should be the ones thinking about having one.” Hmph, two could play at that game, right?
Before long, little Xinran, exhausted from bouncing in the castle, climbed down. Her face flushed red, she ran back to the playroom and sat on the swing, beaming at the two men as they fed the hungry Baozi with cream-fruit infused formula.
How long had it been since the little girl had experienced this kind of carefree life since the apocalypse began? Being able to play wildly on these amusement facilities without worrying about going hungry or encountering terrifying zombies was practically like living in paradise.
Even though she was young, she still remembered the careful, cautious life they had led inside the base and the relentless, busy construction after moving to their new base. The times she could truly play without a care in the world had been incredibly sparse.
As a final touch, Li Tie and the guys excitedly dug up a discarded wooden board, clumsily chiseling out three large characters: “Game Room.” Two of the characters were crooked, making the final result look hilariously hideous.
Once they finished and hung it over the main entrance, Zhang Su, the last to walk out, poured a bucket of cold water on them: “We have so much paint left at home.” If you can’t carve characters, you can at least use a brush and paint, right? Even if you mess it up, you can just give it a fresh coat of paint and write it again in a different color once it dries. How dense can you guys be?
The four guys, whose intelligence had just been thoroughly insulted, stared blankly at the sky. Ultimately, they all focused their resentment onto Wang Duo—who told his partner to have such a sharp tongue? And who told his partner to be so much more capable than the rest of them? Hmph, when they got the chance, they’d drag this guy into a dark room and “educate” him properly!
Perhaps because they finally had a gaming room at home, everyone seemed to grow “younger” overnight. Every member became more passionate about decorating this new home and more proactive in brainstorming ways to improve the base’s quality of life.
After a team discussion, they decided to connect the adjacent office to this room, turning the next room into a dedicated space for various gaming consoles.
A massive TV was mounted on the wall, and a pile of newly crafted foam cushions were tossed onto the sofa Luo Xun and Yan Fei had contributed, positioned directly across from the screen. Beside it were an assortment of chairs and makeshift sofas.
The games here were mostly the kind that a group could play together—party games. Moreover, if anyone wanted to engage in handheld console multiplayer, they could all huddle together in this room to play.
In this way, both the children and the adults had a dedicated place for recreation. It genuinely brought an inexplicable sense of relaxation to the new base.
With the room roughly decorated, Luo Xun consulted Yan Fei for a long time. The two ultimately decided against installing surveillance cameras along the highway for now. After all, even if they could channel the wiring through metal pipes, these conduits and electrical lines would still originate from inside the base. If they were discovered, any adversary with earth-type or metal-type superpowers could track that trail straight back to their home base.
What kind of superpowers hadn’t emerged in the apocalypse? If someone discovered them and harbored malicious intent, they could kiss their peaceful life goodbye.
Instead, Luo Xun finally mounted a camera on the highest metal rack at the absolute apex of the base to monitor the immediate exterior perimeter. While the height wasn’t sufficient to monitor far distances, it was relatively much safer, wasn’t it?
By camouflaging these cameras with metal scraps from above, both the hardware and the lines remained invisible from directly overhead or from a distance, making the concealment effect quite effective.
By now, Luo Xun and the team were still using the massive bed they had brought from their original apartment, so they didn’t need to craft new ones like the rest of the crew. Their private items scavenged from the original base had all been stashed in their individual rooms, furniture included.
Because of space constraints, Luo Xun had contributed his own sofa and coffee table, tossing them into the game room alongside the makeshift sofas, and they had gifted one of their own wardrobes to Xu Mei and Song Lingling early on.
With the remaining furniture combined with cabinets Yan Fei had fabricated with his ability, the room looked quite respectable.
The decor wasn’t fully complete—after all, this was a space they would occupy for a long time to come and needed to be styled gradually according to personal tastes—but the room already felt lived-in.
Once the furniture was settled, Luo Xun and the others carried their washed and sun-dried river pebbles out to the greenhouse orchard—to pave a stone path.
Aside from these pebbles, they utilized the floor tiles they had salvaged from the base previously or gathered on recent runs. Using them for the front entrance and the small clearing set aside for relaxation in the woods produced a surprisingly decent effect. Although the colors were inconsistent, when paired correctly, they radiated a stylish, eclectic aesthetic.
Amidst this bustle, the weather outside the base grew increasingly scorching, day after day. Just two days ago, beneath a blistering sun, a torrential downpour lashed the base, lasting for a full day, followed by intermittent showers for two more.
Luo Xun and the team were profoundly grateful that they had finished building their base early. They no longer needed to venture out to scramble for supplies, content to stay holed up at home. Every morning, they would tend to the crops, clean the quail coop, take a turn around the orchard to verify that no plants had suddenly mutated, and harvest the crops that had matured and were ready for picking.
The day remained overcast, but it wasn’t raining. A group of otaku men and women were huddled in the game room. Li Tie and Han Li were huddled in front of the massive TV, each wielding a controller, joining forces to play a legendary zombie game from before the apocalypse… The others were circled around, either playing alternative games or spectating with high intensity.
Luo Xun walked in carrying a tray, with Yan Fei trailing behind. Today, Luo Xun had felt a rare spark of inspiration and declared he would take charge of the cooking. The rest of the team naturally offered a warm welcome, all waiting inside the game room. It’s worth noting that ever since the game room was established, everyone had gradually migrated their dining and recreation time here, leaving the long dining table in the canteen below looking somewhat cold and neglected.
When Luo Xun walked through the door, he heard a crisp “squelch” echoing from the main TV, and glancing up, he saw the two guys cooperatively blowing a zombie’s head apart.
“Let’s eat. It’s already the apocalypse; aren’t you guys afraid of attracting real zombies playing this stuff?” Luo Xun couldn’t help but grumble, setting the dishes onto the large, newly crafted circular table in the room.
Even with this table now available, everyone still grabbed their plates and sat on the sofas, eating while watching or playing something.
“We aren’t afraid even if we do attract them.” Hearing this, Li Tie paused the game and shook out his wrists, rising to look at the table. “We’ve dispatched countless real zombies already, let alone virtual ones. Honestly, when I played this game before the apocalypse, I used to be terrified. Now, when I play it, I don’t feel a shred of tension.”
“Ain’t that the truth? That’s the result of rigorous training.” The others rose to their feet as well. In the corner of the room sat six computer desks paired off. He Qiankun, Wu Xin, Wang Duo, and Song Lingling were all sitting behind their respective terminals, playing an online real-time strategy game. Seeing Luo Xun return with the meal, they paused their play and rose to join the table.
“Come, come! Let’s resume the Walking Dead marathon we didn’t finish yesterday.”
The group ate their lunch while watching gore-drenched zombie footage, yet not a single one felt their appetite affected. They could only be described as having exceptionally heavy tastes.
Thank you for reading 🙂 I hope you all liked my translations. If you enjoyed my work, please consider buying me a Ko-Fi 😉
