Everything Will Return—Or Not

Bank of Construction, automated ATM.

There was no sign of life in the surroundings.

Except for a few wrecked vehicles and the occasional rotting corpse, there wasn't even a single tang thi in sight.

In the past, even just to withdraw money, one would have to queue for hours. But now, it was as simple as walking inside and taking what you needed.

Upon entering, an automated voice rang out.

A safety reminder: Lock the door. If there's any problem, press the button nearby.

He inserted the bank card, entered the PIN. The interface changed quickly, switching to the withdrawal screen.

The maximum limit per transaction was 5,000. Considering the situation, he decided to withdraw 10,000. The sound of bills dispensing echoed—shhhk shhhk… A stack of five thousand, then another. A total of 10,000.

He didn't even check the remaining balance. Normally, people were curious and liked to peek at the unknown. But this card wasn't his, so he didn't bother. He organized the money neatly, took the card, and turned to leave the ATM booth.

Tan Phong Real Estate Agency.

"Boss, I'm showing the original listings to four elderly clients. Is there anything available downstairs?"

Seeing the always handsome Co Van, he smiled and greeted him. Regardless of whether the other responded or not, being polite was his choice.

The clutter in the shop didn't bother him. The open storefront signaled the business was still running. As for the mess? Probably the cleaner's fault.

He looked around for the original listings, unsure if he could find one.

"Duong Quang Residential, two stairwells… two stairwells…"

Then he found one.

Second floor, stairwell two, apartment 603. Rent: 1,800.

Much cheaper than the unit Ly Mai had rented.

It was likely due to the floor height—he tried calling the number listed, but no response. Seemed like the owner had run into trouble since the apocalypse hit.

Without the owner's consent, the place couldn't be rented.

Luckily, this was a real estate agency. The agent could make the call.

Quick mental math.

One month: 2,400. Three months: 7,200.

He counted the cash and placed it on the table.

"Here's the rent for three months."

Then he took the keys and, while heading toward the door, said softly to the handsome boss:

"I'm heading out."

…

A certain residential area, third floor.

Ly Mai hid in the balcony, secretly peeking outside. The apocalypse had been especially cruel to women. Her daughter was the only reason she had kept going, the light that gave her a reason to survive.

If not for herself, then for her daughter.

He had said he would get them a room and let her help with errands. For her, this might be the key to their survival. She eagerly awaited, eyes fixed outside, hoping to see that familiar figure.

Earlier, while waiting, she had seen a few tang thi limping down the road.

Now her eyes lit up. She saw that familiar silhouette. She wasn't wrong—in her eyes, he was the light, the light of survival, the one spark of humanity in the apocalypse.

She didn't yell.

Only fools did that. Just because she was a woman didn't mean she was stupid. She had watched plenty of films and dramas. Sometimes, when seeing how idiotic some female characters were portrayed, she wanted to strangle the writers.

The figure vanished.

She wasn't worried.

She knew he had entered the complex.

Knock knock.

Soft knocking.

"It's me. I'm here."

Lam Pham's voice came from outside the door, gentle, afraid that a louder noise might scare the mother and daughter. Ever since the apocalypse, the oppressive atmosphere had been stifling. Any sudden scare could have long-lasting effects.

The door opened.

Lam Pham noticed a certain light in Ly Mai's eyes—the light of hope.

"I found a place for you, right upstairs from me. Unit 804. Two bedrooms, one living room. It's in good condition. Take a look around, see what you need to bring. But don't take too much for now—just daily necessities. The rest can wait."

Too many things would just be a burden.

Anyway, the rented apartment was mostly furnished. Just bring toiletries, clothes, and essentials.

"Got it, got it." Ly Mai nodded eagerly.

Lam Pham said, "I'll wait for you at the door. Pack up a bit. I'll also introduce you to the four elderly people I found apartments for earlier."

Soon, Ly Mai had gathered their belongings.

Just a few clothes were enough.

She picked up a photo album—just a simple one, showing the three of them together. Looking at her husband in the picture, her eyes grew misty. She took a deep breath.

Khanh Duong, don't worry. I'll protect Phi Phi and keep us alive.

"All packed?"

Lam Pham glanced at the bag she carried—it seemed light, but thinking about it, she probably didn't want to carry too much in case they ran into tang thi. Better to travel light. It made sense.

"All done. Took what we need."

At that moment, Lam Pham noticed the little girl's empty hands.

"Where's your schoolbag?"

"Huh?" Phi Phi blinked.

Schoolbag?

What schoolbag?

Even Ly Mai was confused.

"Even though it's the apocalypse and schools are closed, you're still young. You need to study hard. It just so happens one of the elderly ladies upstairs is a retired teacher. She can teach you."

"Study well, make progress every day. Knowledge will make you strong. I missed out because I didn't study seriously. Don't be like me."

"Go grab your schoolbag."

Lam Pham hoped the girl would keep studying. No matter how harsh life became, how bleak the world looked, one should always have the heart to learn. With that mindset, no difficulty was insurmountable.

After hearing that...

Ly Mai nodded in agreement. She also wanted her daughter to study well. At such a young age, what else could she do?

Phi Phi gaped.

"Mom… uncle… it's the apocalypse! You still want me to study?!"

She wasn't that into studying before either. Her grades were average. Now with the world ending, survival seemed way more important than reading books.

Still, kids would be kids. In a world covered by death, she was terrified—but the idea of not having to go to school? That was kind of exciting.

She had read stories about kids throwing their schoolbags into burning houses.

Sure, fire was scary.

But not scary enough to make someone chuck their schoolbag into it.

"Listen to uncle. He's right. Studying is the only thing you can do now," Ly Mai added. Like most parents, when it came to education, everything else became secondary.

"Okay, okay, I'll go grab it." Phi Phi ran off to pack her books.

Lam Pham was overjoyed. Getting a child to commit to studying during the apocalypse was no small feat. Sometimes, a single sentence could change a child's future.

Meanwhile, Ly Mai remembered the softshell turtle she had prepared. It hadn't made it to the pot yet. She rushed to the kitchen to deal with it.

"Let's go."

Lam Pham helped carry her bag and led the way with Frostmourne by his side.

On the road…

Ly Mai and Phi Phi walked softly, afraid of making noise and attracting tang thi.

"It's fine. Just walk normally. If any tang thi show up, I'll handle them," Lam Pham said gently. He didn't want to impose his bravery on others. Not everyone could be like him—strong and fearless. He understood they were scared, and he accepted that.

People may be the same, but their abilities differ.

Like the group at the library—he gave them advice but never forced them to follow his rules.

Tang thi were still dangerous.

For most people, anyway.

This was the first time since the apocalypse that Ly Mai and her daughter had stepped out onto the street. The desolation all around overwhelmed them. It was too quiet—far too quiet.

Shattered glass, overturned cars, decaying corpses…

All of it assaulted their minds.

Lam Pham noticed their moods darkening.

He spoke softly.

"It'll come back. With me, with you, with other survivors… the old Hoang City will return. Right?"

He smiled, never losing hope for the city.

Because hope for the city… lived in them.

As long as people had morals, principles, and integrity, the future would be full of hope.

Everything would return.

A gentle breeze swept past.

The sunset bathed the silent street in gold.

Three silhouettes walked slowly, their backs seemingly weary—but one of them… stood tall like a mountain, radiating unwavering light from his brow.

A presence that made people feel safe.