1.Seeking Life in Certain Death

Clack… clack… clack…

Heavy footsteps echoed in the distance, growing closer.

Half-asleep, Qin Hu jolted awake, his ears instantly alert.

That sound—he knew it all too well. It was the distinctive tread of the Weisen, the nightmare of every survivor. It meant danger. It meant cruelty. And it very likely meant that some unlucky human had just met a gruesome end.

Qin Hu had never actually seen a Weisen, but he had witnessed the aftermath of their brutality—blood, entrails, severed limbs. The nauseating stench of death. Every time he recalled the scene, a bone-deep chill surged through him.

The footsteps drew nearer, and his heartbeat pounded faster, a warning voice screaming inside him: Danger! Run!

But his past brushes with death had taught him one thing—making a sound now was a death sentence.

The footsteps halted nearby. Qin Hu held his breath, remaining frozen in the position he had woken up in. He took a deep inhale, filling his lungs to their limit, then clamped his throat shut, suppressing even the faintest whisper of breath.

One minute… two minutes… three minutes…

He emptied his mind, loosened every muscle, and imagined himself as nothing more than a lifeless rock.

Miraculously, his heart rate slowed. His pulse, which had been hammering wildly, dropped to a mere twenty-something beats per minute, as if he had vanished from existence.

Time dragged on. Then, at last, the footsteps resumed—this time, moving away.

Qin Hu was at his absolute limit. His vision darkened, stars bursting in his eyes.

He knew he couldn't hold out much longer, but the Weisen was still nearby. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to endure. Just a little longer… just a little more…

Finally, the sound faded into the distance.

Qin Hu released a slow, measured breath, letting the stale air seep from his lungs before drawing in a fresh, damp gulp.

His entire body tingled with numbness, and his muscles spasmed so sharply that he nearly lost control of his bladder.

After several deep breaths, he felt life returning to his limbs. But those minutes of suffocating stillness had drained him entirely, leaving him limp and exhausted.

Still, he had survived. Again.

But there was no room for relief.

Moving with painstaking care, he sat up and retrieved a tiny shard of mirror, balancing it on his fingertip as he slowly raised it above his head. Peering through a hole in the crumbling wall, he surveyed the outside.

Nothing.

No familiar streets. No scattered ruins.

Only an endless sea of thick, white fog.

It was mist season in Lan Jing, but even at its peak, the fog was rarely this dense.

Then, a thought struck him—this was his chance.

He had been hiding in this half-collapsed building for seven days. Thirst was manageable; he could still lick the condensation from the walls. But food had run out long ago. His stomach roared in protest, the hunger pangs beating like war drums inside him.

If he didn't find food soon, he would starve to death before the Weisen ever caught him.

And this fog—this thick, suffocating fog—would last until noon at least.

It was the perfect cover.

He had to act before it cleared.

Despite his decision, Qin Hu remained patient. Hunger gnawed at him, but he did not rush. Slowly, soundlessly, he rolled onto his stomach, ensuring he made no noise.

Then, he listened.

Nothing.

Only after confirming his surroundings were silent did he carefully shift the stone slab covering his exit, revealing the small hole leading outside.

His hiding place was a pocket of space in the ruins, where a collapsed ceiling had formed a concealed shelter. Only a small gap in the wall provided entry and exit. Once sealed with the stone, it was almost undetectable.

But the longer a person stayed in one place, the more traces they left behind—footprints, waste, even the faint disturbance of breath.

Seven days was too long. It was time to move.

With a reluctant glance back at his sanctuary, Qin Hu silently slipped out into the fog.

Dampness clung to his ragged clothes immediately.

But he barely noticed. In Lan Jing, for survivors, staying alive was the only thing that mattered.

Where could he find food?

He had already scoured the surrounding area. There was nothing left here.

Going farther would be even more dangerous—and still, the chances of finding food were slim.

The Weisen had only occupied Lan Jing for a short time, but their relentless hunts had pushed survivors into utter desperation. Food was vanishing fast.

Before the invasion, Qin Hu had never known true hunger.

Now, he had seen firsthand what it could do to people.

Just days ago, he had watched a group of starving survivors slaughter one of their own and devour his flesh.

But they hadn't lived long to enjoy it—the sounds of their struggle had drawn the Weisen. The moment they took their first bites, they were swarmed.

All of them ended up as Weisen trophies.

The outer districts of Lan Jing had long been picked clean. There wasn't a single scrap left.

Moving deeper into the city was just as fruitless—other survivors were searching there too, and the competition for food was just as fierce.

That left only one place.

The Weisen-occupied zone.

When the Weisen first descended, their warships had landed directly in the city center. They had massacred everyone in sight, turning the area into an instant death trap. Since then, no survivor dared approach.

It was an unspoken rule.

No matter how desperate, no one set foot in that place.

Go… or don't go?

Qin Hu hesitated.

Logic screamed at him not to take such a reckless risk. The Weisen-occupied zone was heavily guarded. The slightest mistake meant instant death.

But then—

Grrrrrgggkkk…

His stomach let out an ear-splitting growl.

Loud enough to get him killed.

Qin Hu's face twitched violently.

He didn't want to risk his life for food.

But if he didn't, he was going to starve.

Between hunger and danger—

He chose danger.

If he refused to eat people, his only option was to raid the enemy's territory.

But the Weisen-occupied zone was over three kilometers away. A single misstep, a single sound, and he would be dead.

A one-in-a-thousand chance of survival.

Except, staying here meant a zero chance.

If he stayed, it was only a matter of time before he was eaten by humans instead.

Qin Hu clenched his jaw.

There was no choice.

He had to go.