CHAPTER 67: RUINED CITY

From the start of the disaster strike, the internet connection had been severed, so none of them had the faintest idea of what was happening inland.

They had speculated, argued, and clung to naïve hopes that perhaps things weren’t too bad... that maybe the city would still be standing, that authorities would have control, that life would continue as it once did.

As they stepped off the battered vessel, their illusions shattered in an instant.

The air was heavy with a metallic tang. The salty breeze that should have brought relief instead carried the rancid stench of blood and burnt flesh. The once bustling coastal town looked like a corpse, broken, mangled, and lifeless. The docks had splintered as though a monstrous hand had clawed them apart. Salt water still surged in shallow waves across the streets, dragging along the debris and shattered carts, children’s toys, chunks of wood, and glass.

"...This..." one student whispered, his voice trembling as he covered his nose, "This isn’t just a natural disaster."

No tsunami or earthquake could possibly cause such precise devastation in just a short span of thirty minutes.

Blood painted the streets in strokes of red-black, seeping into the cracks of stone pavements. The carcasses of monsters that were scattered on the ground were strange, weirdly shaped things with gaping maws and twisted limbs were strewn about. Many were already half-mangled, as though something had feasted on them after they died. Among them were human corpses, eyes glassy, faces frozen in silent screams. Some had their bodies torn apart, as if ripped limb from limb; others bore claw marks so deep it was as if their torsos had been carved open.

The silence of the ruins was worse than screams. Only the occasional crackle of broken wires sparking above or the groaning collapse of weakened buildings broke it.

The students huddled closer together, their footsteps hesitant. Every shadow felt alive, every corner seemed to hold a threat waiting to lunge.

Ling Yu walked at the front, her expression grim yet steady. Unlike the rest, who trembled with every sound, she scanned her surroundings with sharp precision. Her instincts screamed warnings at her; this destruction wasn’t random. It was the sign that the monsters showed up here, too, the kind that were left behind after predators had already moved on.

"Don’t stare too long," Ling Yu warned when one girl froze in place, staring wide-eyed at the half-devoured corpse of a mother clutching her child. "You’ll only waste your strength. Save your fear for when you need to run."

The harshness in her tone snapped the girl out of her daze. Ling Yu didn’t speak to comfort; she spoke to ensure survival.

They departed quickly, unwilling to linger in the coastal town. The ship they had relied on was useless now, because the open waters were even more dangerous than the land. And though the roads inland were cracked and smeared with destruction, they had no choice but to move.

The Capital City was their destination. If there was order left in the world, if humanity still had any semblance of governance, it would be there.

The journey inland felt endless. With every step, the signs of disaster grew worse.

Houses caved in like sandcastles. Cars were flipped and burned, with their interiors blackened and charred. Blood streaks marked where people had been dragged away, some into alleyways, others straight through shattered doors. Ling Yu could already guess what had taken them away.

But what unsettled her most was the absence of sound. No survivors cried for help, no animals scurried in panic. It was as if life itself had been drained away.

When they finally reached the Capital, the sight was both awe-inspiring and soul-crushing.

The great city, once a monument of prosperity and civilization, was in ruins. Towering skyscrapers stood like gravestones, their glass windows shattered, black smoke rising from their broken spires. Roads that once overflowed with endless streams of cars were now battlefields, overturned buses and military vehicles lay scattered, some still burning faintly.

Blood painted the walls, sidewalks, and intersections, creating a grotesque mural of humanity’s fall. In some places, it was so thick it seemed the ground itself bled.

Dead monsters and human bodies alike were piled up on corners, either left behind or deliberately gathered by survivors. The distinction between human and beast blurred; both were torn, mangled, and chewed beyond recognition.

And amidst the wreckage, there were survivors.

They were few and scattered, moving like ghosts among the debris. Families clutched one another tightly, children crying with hollow voices, while men and women scrambled to collect supplies from broken stores. Some soldiers remained, directing people to evacuation zones, their uniforms stained with both blood and soot.

But what chilled Ling Yu the most wasn’t the destruction. It was the sheer scale of it.

Half an hour. That was all it had taken. Half an hour for the Capital, the heart of human civilization, to be reduced to this nightmare.

Ling Yu tightened her fists. She had expected the monsters and zombies to evade, but the level of devastation exceeded even her foresight. The second wave hadn’t even started yet, and the Capital was already on the brink of collapse.

Even if the city lay in ruins, Ling Yu did not spare it a glance of pity. Broken walls leaned against one another as if sighing their last breaths. Dust and smoke curled into the sky, blotting out the sun.

Streets were littered with overturned carts, split-open sacks of grain, and blood pooling beneath the stiffened limbs of the dead. The cries of survivors rang from alleyways, children wailing for mothers who would never answer, men shouting for lost kin, women sobbing as they clutched at bodies cooling in their arms.

But to her, all of this was little more than background noise. The disaster had ended before its proper time, forcefully cut short by her hand, and that alone was enough to draw consequences far beyond what these mortals could imagine.