“You choose—is it their death, or ours?”
The rookie remained silent for a long time before finally nodding.
“I understand, Squad Leader.”
Old Cui let out a heavy sigh and patted the rookie’s shoulder. “Kid, remember what I told you today.”
“When you’re on a mission in the future, don’t let your emotions get the better of you!”
After saying his piece, Old Cui ignored the rookie and waved to the others.
“Don’t just stand there. Keep an eye on the door. Until the Death Tide passes, no one else is getting in.”
The six soldiers returned to their positions, their muzzles pointing outward.
The residents who failed to make it into the shelter could only rely on themselves to survive.
These people either hid in abandoned sewers, cellars, or Old Era basements, sealing the entrances with whatever they could find and praying the mist wouldn’t seep in.
Or, they used plastic rags and old clothes to seal the gaps in their doors and windows, hiding in their dilapidated houses and leaving their fates to the heavens.
No matter how they hid, many would be reduced to a pile of greyish-white powder on the ground by the next morning.
This was the Outer City.
This was the Death Tide.
It happened every seven days.
And every time, many died.
The greyish-white mist tide surged slowly from the Ruin Zone like a living thing.
Wherever the mist passed, everything was shrouded in an eerie greyish-white hue.
The moment the corpses that hadn't escaped were swallowed by the mist, their skin began to fester and dissolve.
First the epidermis, then the muscle, and finally the bone.
In less than three minutes, a complete corpse was transformed into a pool of greyish-white pus, merging with the mist.
Within the mist, points of dark red and ghostly green light flickered in and out of sight.
Those were eerie creatures born within the Death Tide, things that could only survive inside the mist.
They wandered deep within the fog, searching for anything that still carried the scent of life.
If anyone were exposed to the mist at this moment, those points of light would swarm over them, tearing them to shreds and devouring them piece by piece.
Inside the Terminal Station building, over seven hundred people were squeezed into the limited space. There were no arguments; even the sounds of conversation were kept to a low whisper.
The greyish-white mist tide outside the windows battered the building’s invisible barrier like a living creature, creating a tooth-grinding grinding sound.
But the people inside knew that the invisible barrier was sturdier than any city wall.
Suddenly, an infant began to cry, the sharp sound piercing the silence of the building.
Soon, a young mother’s low, soothing voice rose, filled with panic and apology.
Drawn by the sound of the crying infant, Su Wan walked toward the source.
In the third-floor corridor, several tenants were huddled against the wall, using old bedding to make simple pallets.
A young woman was cradling an infant in swaddling clothes, gently rocking him, her face etched with exhaustion and anxiety.
Seeing Su Wan approach, the woman trembled and quickly lowered her head, her voice shaking.
“Landlord... I’m sorry. The child doesn’t know any better. I’ll make him be quiet right away...”
Su Wan waved her hand, signaling for her not to be nervous.
She crouched down and looked at the infant in the swaddle.
The baby was about four or five months old. His little face was wrinkled, and his skin had an unnaturally pale tint.
This was the characteristic skin tone of children who grew up in environments filled with radiation and pollution.
However, his cry was loud and powerful, and his limbs kicked with extraordinary vigor.
“How old is he?” Su Wan asked.
The woman was so nervous her voice trembled. “Four... four months, Landlord.”
Su Wan nodded and reached out to gently touch the infant’s cheek.
The little fellow actually stopped crying. He opened his dark, beady eyes to look at her and then broke into a grin.
Su Wan froze for a moment, and a faint smile unconsciously tugged at the corners of her own mouth.
“I want to ask you a question.”
The woman looked at Su Wan and nodded quickly. “Please, go ahead, Landlord.”
Su Wan looked at her and slowly voiced the doubt in her heart.
“In this apocalypse, there’s radiation, pollution, Rot-Walkers, the Death Tide... staying alive is very difficult.”
“Even for adults with the ability to survive, it’s a struggle to stay alive...”
“Why... did you choose to have a child?”
The woman was stunned.
She looked up at Su Wan, a flicker of incomprehensible confusion flashing in her eyes.
The confusion was so obvious that it made Su Wan feel a bit puzzled.
“Landlord...” the woman asked cautiously, “You... you don’t know?”
Su Wan’s brow twitched slightly. “Know what?”
The woman hesitated for a moment, then whispered, “In this world, it’s much easier for us women to survive than for men.”
Su Wan felt a jolt in her heart.
The woman pulled the infant in her arms a little tighter, her voice soft yet certain.
“Because we women can get pregnant.”
“As long as we are pregnant, a woman’s body becomes stronger. No matter what illness you had before, or how serious it was, as long as you conceive, the illness will slowly get better.”
“Even if you’re seriously injured, as long as you don’t die on the spot, getting pregnant will allow you to slowly recover.”
Su Wan’s pupils constricted slightly.
She had considered countless possibilities, but she had never imagined an answer like this.
The woman continued to talk to herself.
“I was infected by a virus before. Half of my lungs were rotten, and I was coughing up blood clots. I had no money for medicine, and I couldn't buy any anyway...”
“To stay alive, I had to find a man and conceive a child.”
The woman looked down at the infant in her arms, her eyes filled with tenderness.
“Just two months after I conceived him, my illness was cured. The coughing stopped, my lungs no longer hurt, and it felt like I had been given a whole new body.”
“When I gave birth to him, it went smoothly. There was no danger at all.”
“The day after giving birth, I could walk around. I was even more energetic than before I got sick.”
“And what about the child?” Su Wan asked. “Once the child is born, is it easy to raise them?”
The woman nodded, a look of natural certainty on her face. “Very easy. Especially easy.”
“Everyone knows that young children don’t get sick. Those viruses that can kill an adult have no effect on children at all.”
“As long as there’s a bit of food, a child can grow up safely.”
She paused, as if remembering something, and added:
“And children under the age of sixteen have very strong resistance and self-healing abilities. If they trip or get a cut, they just need a night’s sleep to be fine.”
“Even if they go without a full meal for a few days, it’s fine. Children are resistant to hunger. As long as there’s a tiny bit of food, they can survive.”
“Unlike adults, who get dizzy after missing one meal and can’t even get up after two days of hunger.”
After listening, Su Wan’s heart was in turmoil.
Pregnancy allows women to heal.
Children are immune to all toxins.
Super self-healing abilities before the age of sixteen.
Resistant to hunger and easy to raise.
What did this mean?
It meant that in this apocalypse, the survival capacity of women and children was far stronger than that of men!
As long as a woman was willing to have children, she could survive.
And a child, as long as they had a bite to eat, could also survive.
Rate on N.U.
