Chapter 200: Racing Against Time

"Liang Liyang, 19 years old, has been a severe infection case for seven hours."

"Meets the criteria, proceeding with transfer."

In his dazed state, Liang Liyang heard a cold electronic voice.

He struggled to open his eyes and saw two humanoid metal robots standing by his hospital bed.

Before he could react, he found himself lifted onto a stretcher and transferred to a bright, clean cabin.

"This is... on the water."

Feeling the rocking motion beneath him, Liang Liyang realized he was likely being transported by boat to another location.

"Am I being abandoned?"

A sense of sorrow welled up inside him.

Even before he was infected, he had learned from the mobile network that people like him had no cure.

At most, he would survive for a day or two before dying quickly.

Many shelters, to avoid trouble, would preemptively cremate severely infected patients like him.

His fate, he figured, would be no different.

The only regret was that he still had consciousness.

If he were to be burned alive or buried, he would suffer a painful death.

Yet, he lacked the strength to end his own life.

All he could do was quietly await his fate.

He had no idea how much time had passed when he was once again carried on a stretcher into a shelter.

Inside, he saw robots everywhere.

There were also many other severe infection patients like him, lying on stretchers.

And all of them were being taken to a massive structure that resembled a beehive.

"Is this a morgue?"

Liang Liyang struggled to keep his eyes open, trying to take in what was likely his final resting place.

But the place was simply too large for him to grasp its full scope.

The only thing he could make out was that the individual compartments forming the beehive structure seemed endless.

Some were still empty, while others were already occupied.

It wasn't until he was placed inside one of these compartments himself that he realized it was not as cramped as he had imagined.

The compartment was high enough for him to sit up slightly.

There were soft blankets and a small, warm orange light illuminating the space.

It didn't look like a storage box for corpses at all.

After all, corpses didn't need so much space.

Nor did they require lighting or bedding.

"So... I might still be able to live..."

This thought surfaced in Liang Liyang's mind, but his exhausted brain couldn't sustain any further contemplation.

Moments later, he slipped into unconsciousness.

---

September 19th

Farmhouse Shelter, Underground Control Center

"The Type II treatment drug has been successfully developed."

"It can extend the survival period of severe infection cases from three to five days to over fifteen days."

"The downside is that during this period, the patient will be in a deep sleep for more than 23 hours a day."

"They will have less than an hour for eating and excretion."

To develop a drug that could extend survival before the mass deaths of infected individuals, Su Wu invested all his accumulated spiritual energy from the past few days into Chen Yue.

He even occasionally joined the research himself.

Under this intense time pressure, they finally succeeded in developing the Type II treatment drug.

Without even conducting tests, Su Wu immediately moved to mass-produce and administer the drug.

Luckily, no major issues arose.

Out of the tens of thousands of severely infected individuals in the shelter, over 97% successfully survived after treatment.

As for the side effect—prolonged sleep—it actually proved beneficial for Jiewei Shelter, which was now housing nearly 200,000 infected individuals.

After all, conscious patients would struggle to endure the long hours confined within the capsule compartments, leading to potential psychological distress and disorder.

"Additionally, since eating and excretion require robotic assistance, handling this many patients at once is pushing our existing robots to their limits."

"We need to produce a new batch of specialized support equipment to help manage them."

"And the capsule compartments must continue to be expanded."

"The number of severe infection cases in other shelters is not decreasing—it's increasing rapidly."

"We must prepare in advance."

Since the job was relatively simple—only requiring stationary patient care—a micro-tracked vehicle, an elevator platform, and a few mechanical arms were enough to tend to hundreds of patients at once.

For the Manufacturing Center, this was not a major burden.

However, the mass production of capsule compartments was much more challenging.

Even though their construction involved no complex technology—just a metal frame, foam padding, and a simple light bulb—the sheer quantity needed was staggering.

At least 70,000 to 80,000 new capsules had to be built daily.

This demand had already surpassed the Farmhouse Shelter's manufacturing capabilities.

Su Wu had no choice but to involve the residents of his now-secure affiliated shelters in the capsule production effort.

Although they barely managed to meet demand, another problem quickly emerged—

The stockpiles of processed steel and plastic resources were being depleted at an alarming rate.

At this pace, the entire inventory would be exhausted in about a week.

Furthermore, because severe infection patients were physically weak, they needed more nutritious food.

The lowest-tier rations produced by the Food Factory were not suitable for them.

Su Wu had to pull from his stockpiles of high-quality grains and dairy products, preparing meals like rice porridge that were both nutrient-rich and easy to digest.

This, too, was a major burden and not sustainable for long.

"Considering the rapid depletion of resources—"

"Jiewei Shelter will have a maximum capacity of 700,000 people."

"At Zhou Xiwu Shelter, we can allocate an additional 200,000-person isolation zone."

"That will be the absolute limit."

"Beyond that, neither housing space nor food supply will be sufficient."

Using the AI database, Su Wu carefully recalculated everything and pinpointed his maximum carrying capacity.

The 620,000 residents of his existing shelters, plus a maximum of 900,000 infected individuals—

That was the limit.

And even this did not account for what would happen after these patients were cured

and needed to resume normal activity.

When that time came, they might still have to live in the capsule compartments for a while longer.

(End of Chapter)