The checkpoint consisted of six zones: A, B, C, D, E, and F.

Zones E and F were twice the size of the other four, shaping the checkpoint’s layout: A, B, C, and D lined up in the front, with E behind A and B, and F behind C and D, forming a “front four, back two” structure.

The station chief’s office was on the sixth floor of Zone E’s administrative building, the highest point of the checkpoint, offering a panoramic view of the entire area through its floor-to-ceiling windows.

Descending the stairs and passing through three isolation retractable doors, Cheng Ye entered the core of the checkpoint.

The quarantine inspection zone.

The four zones were strictly separated by iron netting, ensuring independent inspections while allowing for isolation and control in emergencies.

Behind the four zones ran a 20-meter-wide secondary isolation channel stretching east to west.

This channel served dual purposes: normally, it was used for disinfecting cleared personnel and materials, but if an infected entity went out of control in any zone, it could instantly become a firepower interception zone, forming the checkpoint’s first line of defense.

To Cheng Ye’s surprise, each isolation zone was further divided into two precise sections.

The front half was the quarantine zone, for initial screening of entrants.

The back half was the observation zone, for deeper testing and short-term isolation of suspected infected individuals.

Through the netting, he could see that, despite being open-air, the observation zone housed four large warehouses and some basic shelter facilities.

“Zone A mainly handles vehicle quarantine. Enter through this door,” Raul said, leading Cheng Ye to the isolation gate for Zone A. He pressed the communicator and spoke briefly. Within half a minute, two staff members jogged over.

“This is Inspector Cheng Ye, on duty for Zone A quarantine today. Show him the zone’s layout.”

“Uh…” Seeing Cheng Ye’s Easterner face, the two staff members froze.

After repeatedly confirming he was a pure Easterner, not a mixed-blood, they exchanged a glance, reading the same suspicion in each other’s eyes: Was Raul being sarcastic, hinting they should make trouble for this Easterner inspector?

But they were just observers, doing grunt work. Who had the guts to mess with a duty inspector?

“Idiots, since when do you get to meddle in faction disputes?” Raul rubbed his forehead, irritated.

Ever since the East-West faction balance broke a few months ago, it had gradually affected everyone at the station.

Now even observers thought they could get involved. Were they courting death?

“Easterner or Westerner, an inspector can end your life with a word.”

“Got it?”

“Yes, yes, got it.”

The two nodded frantically. Though Raul chewed them out, they felt relieved.

Compared to losing their jobs by offending an inspector, a scolding was nothing.

At the same time, they wondered: Raul was the deputy station chief’s son, always high and mighty. What kind of background did this Easterner have to warrant Raul personally escorting him to his post and instructing them to cooperate?

“Inspector Cheng, I won’t disturb you further.”

“Thanks.”

Cheng Ye nodded and slipped through the open isolation door.

As the metal door closed behind him, the overhead isolation purifier kicked on, sending a breeze that lifted Raul’s blond bangs.

Watching Cheng Ye’s figure vanish, a flicker of confusion crossed Raul’s eyes, soon replaced by a deeper, thoughtful look.

“Inspector Cheng, at the rapid checkpoint, only inspectors rotate daily. Staff, unless killed or otherwise removed, typically serve three-month shifts.”

“We’ve got two months left in this shift. During your duty, we’ll be your assistant observers for inspections.”

“Observers don’t use names. Just call us by our codenames.”

“I’m Raven, handling your miscellaneous tasks, fetching supplies, testing wounds, tracing sources, organizing files, calling cleanup crews. Just let me know.”

“He’s Owl, in charge of security, your combat assistant. If you think an infected entity check is risky, send him in.”

“If we die, don’t worry. New replacements will inherit our codenames and continue as your assistants.”

Raven and Owl walked ahead, earnestly explaining.

The rapid checkpoint’s structure was straightforward.

Duty inspectors were at the top, followed by two observers, then staff and guards.

Cheng Ye nodded occasionally, thinking Raul’s escort was a brilliant move, saving him the hassle of navigating the rapid checkpoint’s layout on his own.

Amid the sharp smell of chemical disinfectants, the three passed through a ten-meter-long decontamination channel, finally entering the back half of Zone A’s quarantine area.

First impression: it felt like stepping into a sports arena.

The isolation zone stretched about 200 meters long and 100 meters wide. Unlike Zone E’s epoxy flooring, the ground here was alloy, a material used in the inner city.

Crisscrossing grooved drainage channels were embedded in it, now gurgling with rainwater from above.

To the side, in an open area, stood the four warehouses he’d seen through the netting.

Up close, Cheng Ye noticed the warehouses varied in size and material, spaced about 20 meters apart.

The first two were made of familiar buffer zone modular metal sandwich panels, their silver-gray surfaces coated with anti-corrosion layers, seams tightly joined, with a service life of up to 50 years.

But the other two warehouses were odd.

Noticing Cheng Ye’s confusion, Raven quickly explained, “Since Zone A handles vehicle inspections, its setup differs slightly from the other three zones. The biggest difference is we have a dedicated vehicle storage warehouse, right there, Warehouse 4, the one you’re facing.”

“The other three are:

Warehouse 1: Isolation ward, for holding personnel with questionable quarantine results. The duty inspector decides the isolation period, but it’s at least 72 hours to ensure no parasitic infection before release.

Warehouse 2: Living quarters, for staff and guards. Unlike you, who can leave after duty, we’re stationed here for the full three-month shift.

Warehouse 3: Supply room, storing daily necessities, epidemic prevention materials, and some confiscated contraband from entrants. If you’re interested in any item, you can take it. The checkpoint clears out remaining items every seven days.”

No wonder it’s a rapid checkpoint, Happiness City’s showcase. Every zone was so well-equipped.

Zone A even had a lavish vehicle garage.

Cheng Ye paused, curiously peering into the nearest Warehouse 4.

Since the isolation ward took up much of the observation zone’s open space, the garage was squeezed into a corner, its area compact.

The interior was cramped, with six Jinbei vans parked nose-to-tail, nearly filling the space.

Wait!

Cheng Ye’s scanning gaze froze, his pupils contracting sharply as he stared at the garage wall in disbelief.

Could it really be true, after a big battle, supplies always follow?

On the wall of Warehouse 4, neatly arranged, three on the left, three on the right, hung six brand-new charging stations!!!

The three silver-gray chargers on the left had slim cables, about two fingers wide, likely 7kW slow chargers, by his estimation.

But the three gray-blue chargers on the right had cables as thick as a forearm, at least 60kW.

60kW?

Cheng Ye’s mind exploded, briefly losing the ability to think.

Talk about searching high and low only to stumble upon it effortlessly.

What did this mean?

Charging at home overnight, even at a max of 2.5kW, he’d get about 20 kWh.

But with these chargers, one hour meant 60 kWh.

An eight-hour shift, if he could charge constantly, that’s…

480 kWh?

What kind of game-changer was that?

It meant his search frequency would skyrocket from once every three days to four times a day.

“Sir?”

The two were leading him to review the inspection process.

Turning, they found Cheng Ye frozen before the garage, his eyes burning with intensity.

How to describe it? Like he’d seen the goddess of his dreams beckoning from inside.

“Let’s start with the observation zone.”

Cheng Ye took deep breaths, forcing down his excitement, trying to look normal.

No wonder he was so thrilled.

Even if his skill slots could only hold three skills, excess search results could convert into information points for upgrading his Collector rank.

Four searches a day, even if just one succeeded, would massively boost his information point gain.

If he could quickly move from Trainee Lv.1 to Lv.2, he’d unlock search permissions for higher-tier Lv.3 skills.

What changes would equipping Lv.3 skills bring?

Cheng Ye couldn’t imagine, but he knew it was the fastest path to rooting himself in the wasteland!