CHAPTER 243: CHAPTER 243

Lingquan’s voice softened faintly in her mind, almost as if he was trying to cushion the blow.

[They’re all alive. Anya and Yichen are currently stationed in a fortified pharmaceutical building, zone 3B. It’s stable... for now. Ren and Liang Zhen are with them, but supplies are running low. Guo Wen, on the other hand, is harder to read — he’s shifted positions three times in the last week. Currently... he’s holed up in a collapsed metro line beneath zone 4D.]

Qingran rubbed at her temple, already feeling the pressure behind her eyes. "So I need to split my focus again. I barely just got back."

[Welcome to being the hope of humanity,] Lingquan offered dryly. [Would you like me to play some motivational music too?]

She rolled her eyes. "They’re alive, that’s a good start. I’ll find a way to communicate with them soon."

As if summoned, Ruihuang appeared again beside her makeshift resting spot. He didn’t say anything at first, just crouched and looked at her with his usual half-smirk.

"They all kind of hate me," he said bluntly.

Qingran couldn’t help but laugh "Give it a day or two. They’ll come around.."

Ruihuang sighed "They didn’t even let me seat around them. I feel like an outcast, is it because I’m too handsome?"

-_-

Qingran lips twitched, she always ran to the narcissistic ones didn’t she.

This reminded her of when she first met Feng Yizhou.

He was a narcissistic, douche bag, a walking red flag, she wondered what agitated him back then.

"You can only love me shit.." She chuckled again.

She was gladly he had dismissed that method of approach and hoped to see more sides of him.

-_-

"Why aren’t you saying anything? Has my handsomeness gotten to you too??" he smiled, poking her ribs.

"Its got me in pieces.." She replied jokingly. "But don’t worry, they’ll come around. I swear.."

**************************

The building groaned under the shifting weight of fractured concrete and the distant rumbles that had become all too familiar.

Zone 3 was quieter now, not from peace, but from attrition.

Less gunfire. Fewer voices.

The silences lingered too long, stretched thin by starvation and loss.

Tzang Yichen pulled his scarf down, dust trailing from his coat as he stepped into the makeshift infirmary on the fourth floor.

His boots were worn.

His fingers bloodied.

He carried a single backpack slung low on one shoulder, lighter than it had been when he left, and heavier in other ways.

Anya spotted him from across the room. Her shoulders were tense, her braid half-undone and face flushed with fatigue.

She walked quickly to meet him.

"You’re back." Her voice was quiet. "Where’s Jiang Tao and Hamin?"

Yichen didn’t answer immediately.

He just shook his head.

"Hamin went to cool is his head and Jiang Tao... he didn’t make it.."

Anya’s breath hitched, but she said nothing more.

Not here. Not with the others watching.

She gestured for him to follow her toward the back where the medical stores were kept or what was left of them.

A shelf once lined with labeled supplies was nearly bare, reduced to scraps of gauze, two vials of antibiotics, and a single fever reducer.

"Tell me you found something at least.." she said, voice low.

Yichen opened the bag but it wasn’t promising.

Three cans of food.

Half a pack of rice.

A strip of dried meat.

One bandage roll.

"No medicine.." he said grimly. "The place we raided had already been looted. Only bodies left behind and recently too."

Anya sighed and leaned back against the wall, wiping a hand across her brow.

"We can’t keep up like this. I’ve got six people burning with fever in the other room. If they don’t have antibiotics by tomorrow.."

"I know.." Yichen cut in, his jaw tight. "I know."

A shuffle of movement to their left drew both of their attention.

It was the sick woman, Mrs. Shen the one who’d come in last week with a broken arm and her teenage son.

She’d been drifting in and out of fever dreams for days, but now she was upright, eyes glassy and desperate.

"Mr. Yichen..." Her voice was shaky. Weak. "Where’s Tao? He said he’d stay by your side..."

Yichen froze. Anya turned sharply to him.

The silence was sharp, cutting between them like a blade.

"I’m sorry.." he said quietly.

"No, no don’t tell me you’re sorry..." Mrs. Shen’s voice cracked. "No, you promised me you’d protect him...! You said— You said you’d bring him back!"

Yichen swallowed, but he didn’t flinch.

"We were descending into a supply shaft when the tremors hit. He lost footing. The ground collapsed. There were poles... metal debris..."

"I don’t care!" she screamed, lunging forward despite Anya trying to steady her. "You took him! Why did you take my boy?!"

"He volunteer Mrs Shen but that doesn’t excuse that I couldn’t protect him.."

Yichen bowed "I couldn’t drag him out.." Yichen said hoarsely. "Not without, not without tearing what was left of him."

The words hung heavy in the room.

Mrs. Shen sobbed, not a quiet weep, but a raw, gut-wrenching sound that filled the space with the weight of grief everyone else had been too afraid to voice.

One of the younger volunteers tried to step in, but Anya raised a hand to stop them.

"Let her cry.." she said. "It’s the only thing we still have left."

Yichen’s fingers curled into fists.

"I should’ve gone alone..."

Anya looked at him sharply. "He knew what he was up against, we all did. But we’re past that."

She turned toward the infirmary doorway, her tone flat now. "We’re running on nothing, Yichen. The building’s barely stable, water’s running dry, and the last earthquake nearly tore the south wing in half. If another tremor hits, we lose this floor and the rest of this building."

"And then what?"

"We start burying the ones we can’t carry out."

Another silence.

Yichen exhaled shakily.

"Do we move them?"

Anya shook her head. "Not yet. We wait for Ren and Zhen to come back with the second team. If they have something, anything, we might be able to hold out for a little longer."

Yichen nodded slowly.

But he didn’t look at her.

His eyes were still fixed on the grieving mother in the corner.

The sound of her cries hadn’t stopped.

And Yichen wasn’t sure they ever would.

Anya sighed, things would have been so much easier if Qingran was here, she had all these resources.

"We need some kind of miracle.." she muttered.

A low chime echoed faintly one that only Anya and Yichen could hear.

Yichen stiffened.

Anya’s breath caught. A strange hum reverberated in her skull, and her vision blurred momentarily, like the world had shifted an inch sideways.

Then....

[System Allocation in Progress.]

The voice rang out clearly inside her mind, not external, not audible to anyone else.

Across from her, Yichen suddenly grunted, staggering back a step as his pupils dilated.

Anya clutched her chest. Something burned there not painful, but it was raw. As if a star had been pressed into her ribs.

[Host: Kuroba Anya — Bound System: Phoenix Protocol. Rank 11. Function: Self-Detonation / Burst Ignition.]

Anya gasped, sweat breaking across her brow. She staggered sideways, grabbing the shelf to stay upright.

Her body was hot. Her heart pulsed like a war drum, and for a terrifying moment, she thought she might actually combust.

Yichen doubled over beside her.

[Host: Tzang Yichen — Bound System: Voidstring System. Rank 13. Function: Puppetry / Marionette Control.]

He gritted his teeth, his hand flexing uncontrollably.

He felt something around him, thin threads, invisible but tight, like a hundred tiny reins wrapping around his joints and extending out.

No one else heard any of this.

To the others watching, Anya and Yichen just froze.

They looked like they were seizing, eyes wide, skin suddenly glowing faintly.

Mrs. Shen blinked from the cot, alarmed. One of the younger volunteers shouted.

"Miss Anya?! Mr. Yichen?!"

"They’re burning up!" someone else shouted, rushing forward.

But Anya lifted a hand shakily.

"Don’t... touch us. We’re fine."

Yichen straightened slowly, still pale. His eyes swept across the room.

Nothing had changed outwardly, but everything inside him was different.

He could feel the control lines in the room, dozens of possible puppet points.

Crutches.

Ropes.

Belts.

Shoelaces.

Anya pressed a hand to her chest. Her palm steamed faintly where it touched skin.

The room stared at them in frightened silence.

"What the hell just happened?"