Chapter 9: Encounter

The next day.

The sky had yet to fully brighten; the first light of dawn flickered at the horizon, while a gray mist shrouded the outlines of the ruins, exuding an eerie, deathly chill.

Suddenly, a sharp, terrified scream pierced through the silence of the ruins, cutting through the thin fog and jolting Xia Tong awake from a pleasant dream as she curled up in the corner of a worn-out sofa.

“Who’s there? Disturbing a cat’s peaceful morning nap this early.” She flicked her tail in mild annoyance, her glassy blue feline eyes still carrying a trace of post-slumber haze.

With a graceful, silent leap, she jumped onto a nearby dilapidated windowsill—the metal frame long corroded and unrecognizable.

Following the direction of the sound, Xia Tong gazed down to see two figures stumbling wildly along the rubble-strewn collapsed street, racing frantically toward the lone building where she resided. Their expressions were filled with terror; their movements frantic—clearly, they were fleeing for their lives.

“???” She tilted her head. Weren’t these the same two wanderers she’d encountered at the supermarket? Back then, their tone made them sound formidable.

“And this is it? Just two ordinary people?” Xia Tong’s gaze passed over the two, settling on what relentlessly pursued them.

It was a grotesquely mutated hound, its fur matted and filthy, jaws stretched back to reveal gleaming white fangs, drool dripping from its mouth corners as it emitted low, fierce growls—baring teeth and barking madly as it chased the pair.

At the same time, a “Source Core” alert chimed in her mind:

[Mutated Hyena, Rank One, One Star. A common mutated canine with keen senses and a certain level of aggression.]

Better to avoid unnecessary trouble; Xia Tong had no habit of helping others out of convenience.

As the two humans and the mutated dog drew closer to her building, she didn’t hesitate. In a flash, she dropped silently from the windowsill, curling back into the corner of the sofa, ready to enjoy her breakfast in peace.

The food before her was scavenged from the fleeing wanderers the night before.

Soon, a clattering sound of falling debris came from downstairs, accompanied by heavy breathing and frantic footsteps—the two fleeing humans had evidently burst in. Then, hurried, chaotic steps rapidly ascended the decrepit staircase, growing nearer.

Xia Tong leisurely munched, her ears twitching slightly, not even bothering to lift her eyelids.

After all, the door was closed; there was no way they could reach her here.

***

Before her lay a bag of compressed biscuits and two green leaves—her breakfast for the morning. As for water, her water-elemental abilities ensured she lacked nothing of that kind.

The footsteps paused briefly in the corridor on the second floor, followed by more urgent running sounds. Then came a loud bang, likely someone forcefully opening a room’s door, followed by a sudden slamming.

…The noise came precisely from the room opposite her.

Xia Tong was speechless for a moment: “…”

“Woo…”

Almost simultaneously, a heavy, violent banging followed—“thud! thud! thud!”—mixed with the low, angry growls of the mutated hyena and the sharp scraping of claws against the iron door. The entire door trembled violently, as if it would be breached any second, dust falling like rain around.

“What do we do… what do we do!” Inside, a woman’s panicked screams rang out.

“Stay quiet! It… it might leave soon…” The man gripped a steel pipe tightly, his voice trembling with fear and uncertainty.

Against a mutated beast, these scavenging ordinary humans were mere snacks. No matter how tough their facade, it would crumble in an instant.

Listening to the unrelenting roars outside, Xia Tong continued to play idly with her biscuits, then took small bites.

The taste was mediocre—dry and a bit tough on the teeth, far inferior to that long-expired canned meat. But now was not the time to be picky; filling her belly was enough.

She paid no heed to the life-or-death struggle beyond the door.

This world was a vast arena of natural selection and survival of the fittest. The weak were the first to perish in the early waves of the apocalypse. Those who remained alive were all, in some sense, ruthless survivors.

No one chose to help others without reason—especially in the apocalypse. Xia Tong certainly would not. Moreover, venturing out now risked exposing her presence, which was not worth the trouble.

“Let them rely on their own luck!”

…

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

The pounding grew more intense, each strike hitting like a blow to the heart. The iron door groaned under the strain; cracks spread like spiderwebs across the surrounding wall, plaster crumbling.

Inside, the woman’s sobs turned into stifled whimpers; the man’s breathing grew heavier, trembling with despair.

“Hold on! Use the cabinet! Hurry!” the man shouted, his voice distorted by fear.

“No… no use! The door’s opening! It’s opening!” The woman’s voice sharpened, on the verge of collapse.

Xia Tong paused her biscuit-chewing—not out of concern, but because the noise was simply too distracting.

***

She lifted her head, her glassy blue eyes calmly fixed on the shut door opposite, ears twitching slightly as she caught every sound beyond the threshold. To her, the fate of these two ordinary humans against a rank-one mutated beast was almost sealed, though they were not entirely defenseless.

“Bang… crack!”

A harsh metallic twisting and breaking sound rang out, followed by a burst of flying iron shards. The battered iron door was finally shattered!

A filthy, fierce canine head suddenly thrust inside, its blood-red eyes locked onto the terrified pair, issuing a menacing low growl.

“Ah!” The woman’s scream pierced the air.

“Fight it to the death!” the man yelled in desperation, seemingly pushed to the brink, awakening a spark of fierce resolve.

What followed was chaotic combat:

The whistle of the steel pipe swinging, the enraged howls of the mutated hyena, the dull thuds of falling objects, the man’s curses, and the woman’s cries and screams—all intertwined, reverberating fiercely in the cramped room.

The scene sounded brutal.

Xia Tong tilted her head and swallowed the last bit of compressed biscuit. She could almost envision the carnage inside—blood, torn flesh, the struggle of man and beast intertwined. This was the apocalypse laid bare: cruel and unvarnished.

The tumult lasted a little over a minute, punctuated by several piercing cries of pain and the dying wails of the beast. Gradually, the fighting subsided; the growls softened into whimpers, and finally, only heavy, exhausted breaths remained.

Silence returned.

A thick metallic scent of blood drifted through the cracked door, permeating the narrow corridor.

“Hm?”

Xia Tong pricked her ears, catching faint, almost imperceptible breathing sounds. A flicker of subtle surprise crossed her eyes.

It seemed… they had survived?