Li Xin knelt beside Qian Yao. The moment the hemostatic forceps clamped onto the severed end of the femoral artery, a dark red blood clot squeezed out from the jaws of the tool, falling onto the broken bricks and splashing into a small, dark flower.
His stitching movements were efficient, and his ears weren’t idle, constantly monitoring the surroundings.
There were no roars from mutant beasts for the moment, but he didn’t know how long this window of peace would last.
Without stopping his work, he pressed his fingers against the upper edge of the wound while his other hand reached into the first-aid kit for a bone saw.
“Xiao Wang, blood pressure.”
“Forty, and it’s still dropping.”
“Liu Min, plasma, quickly.”
The female nurse named Liu Min crouched on the other side of Qian Yao. The IV tube in her hand shook twice before she successfully inserted it into the vein.
Dark red blood quickly flowed back into the transparent soft tube at a slow pace. She bit her lower lip and said nothing, the moisture on her eyelashes reflecting a tiny fragment of light in the glow of the searchlights.
Li Xin didn’t look at her; he was pressing the bone saw against the necrotic tissue to cut down. The muffled sound of the serrated blade scraping against bone was like a dull knife peeling old tree bark.
He used a bit of blood energy. The physical strength of a Punisher far exceeded that of an ordinary person; even for a fellow Punisher, it was impossible to cut through this bone without using some special means.
“Make some room.” He didn’t even look up.
Liu Min took half a step back, her back hitting the tire of the off-road vehicle.
Tang Xuan was chewing her bubble gum much slower than usual. Li Qiang leaned against the rear car door with both hands in his pockets, the wrappers of the energy bars inside crinkling under his grip.
No one spoke. Within a hundred-meter radius, there was only the sound of the bone saw grinding against bone and the occasional muffled groan escaping from Qian Yao’s throat.
“Done.”
Li Xin tossed the severed necrotic tissue aside and passed the suture needle through the edge of the skin flap with swift movements. “Hemostasis complete, blood pressure has stabilized. Get him onto the vehicle immediately.”
After everything was finished, he didn’t forget to cover the cross-section with a layer of healing power to prevent infection.
Xiao Wang and Xiao Zhang from the same team unfolded the stretcher. Liu Min and Li Xin also lent a hand, and the four of them worked together to lift Qian Yao into the vehicle.
As the stretcher was lifted, Qian Yao’s fingers twitched, as if trying to grab something, but he caught nothing but air.
Li Xin glanced at his hand, said nothing, and bent over to climb into the compartment, placing the ventilator mask over his face.
Then he turned around, his gaze sweeping over the twenty-odd wounded scattered around.
Some members of the Third Combat Section were sitting against broken walls, some were lying on the ground, and a few were leaning on each other’s shoulders, barely able to stand, yet none of them lay down.
The deputy captain leaned against the rear bumper of the off-road vehicle, his broken blade resting beside him, half of his face covered in dried blood-mud.
Li Xin’s gaze swept over them. He had seen many wounded in his life—those missing arms, missing legs, or with their intestines spilling out.
But to see so many Punishers simultaneously carrying such heavy injuries, scattered in the same place, neither crying nor shouting, just waiting quietly...
Waiting for his two vehicles to take them away, or waiting for the next wave of mutant beasts to rush over and devour them.
He suddenly felt his throat go dry.
“Those who can walk, support those who can’t. Get on the vehicles in groups.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried clearly through the ruins.
The members of the Third Combat Section silently began to move. The deputy captain tucked his broken blade into his belt and single-handedly hoisted a teammate whose leg was riddled with corrosive ulcers, dragging him toward the ambulance.
Both of them limped, leaving two jagged blood trails on the ground behind them.
Luo Yang opened his eyes.
He exerted a great deal of effort to stand up by leaning against a wheel. The wound on his leg was pulled, causing his eye to twitch from the pain.
But once he stood straight, his voice was relatively steady.
“Let Old Qian go first,” he said. “All the wounded from the Third Combat Section, get on the vehicles.”
Li Xin turned to look at him.
“Two vehicles can’t fit everyone.”
Li Xin spoke very bluntly. “There are too many wounded. Even if we remove all the seats, one ambulance can only fit eight or nine people at most. Including Section Chief Qian, there are over twenty people from the Third Combat Section alone. And then there’s all of you...”
Luo Yang fished the car keys out of his pants pocket; the keychain was stained with dried blood clots.
He tilted his chin toward the off-road vehicle. “Take this one too. It still has half a tank of gas. At worst, I’ll stay here for now. Let everyone without combat capability leave first.”
Li Xin took the keys and looked down. A faded charm hung from the keychain, its shape blurred and hard to identify.
He gripped the keys in his palm and nodded.
“That’ll be enough then. Section Chief Qian will be on a stretcher, so that vehicle will take fewer people. The rest can be spread between the other ambulance and the off-road vehicle. We can take everyone in one trip.”
After saying that, he frowned again. “But we don’t have enough drivers. Only Xiao Wang and I can drive the ambulances, and someone needs to drive the off-road vehicle. Is there anyone left in the Third Combat Section who can drive?”
The deputy captain, leaning against the ambulance’s rear door, raised his one unbroken hand. His lips were pale, but his eyes were still relatively clear. “I can drive. My right leg is fine, and my left eye can still see.”
“Your left arm is fractured,” the female nurse reminded him with a frown.
“It’s an automatic; one hand is enough. Give me the keys.”
Li Xin looked at him for two seconds before tossing the keys over.
The deputy captain caught them with one hand, gripped them tight, and turned toward the off-road vehicle. Though his steps were wobbly, he walked in a straight line.
Once the order to evacuate was passed down, the members of the Third Combat Section began boarding in groups.
The most seriously injured were lifted into the first ambulance. Qian Yao’s stretcher was secured at the very back of the compartment, the ventilator tube swaying slightly with the movement of the vehicle.
The female nurse crouched beside him, her hand pressed against the IV bag. Dried black blood from treating the wounds earlier was still trapped under her fingernails.
Tang Xuan spat the flavorless bubble gum into the pile of rubble at her feet, clapped her hands, stood up, and glanced at Qiu Shubai.
Qiu Shubai didn’t look at her. She was standing next to Luo Yang, the stitched wound on her waist seeping blood and staining a small patch of her academy uniform dark red.
Li Qiang pulled out the energy bar he had tucked into his pocket earlier, broke it in half, and handed one piece to Tang Xuan. He started to hand the other half to Qiu Shubai.
But halfway through the motion, he pulled his hand back.
Qiu Shubai didn’t notice his movement.
Her gaze was fixed on Luo Yang—specifically, on the corroded wound below his collarbone.
The outer layer of flesh was white and blistered, the edges charred and curled as if seared by a red-hot iron spoon. The surrounding skin twitched slightly every few seconds.
Luo Yang himself didn’t seem to react much. He found half a wall to lean against again, his eyes half-open as he watched the others busy themselves moving the wounded. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to stand properly; he was simply too exhausted.
Qiu Shubai finally spoke. “Your wound needs to be treated.”
Luo Yang tilted his head to look at her, his eyes narrowing behind his spectacles as if confirming it was her speaking.
A moment later, he suddenly let out a short laugh that dispersed into the night wind as soon as it emerged.
“You have the nerve to say that? The stitches on your own waist are about to burst.”
Qiu Shubai didn’t take the bait. She took a step forward, knelt down, and reached out to peel back the ruined fabric of the shirt on Luo Yang’s shoulder.
The fabric was stuck to the wound. When she gave it a light tug, Luo Yang’s brow jumped.
“Speak up if it hurts,” she said.
“It hurts,” Luo Yang said bluntly, a half-dead smile still on his face. “It hurts like hell. Be gentle.”
Qiu Shubai’s fingers paused for a moment. Without looking up, her movements became even lighter.
She fished povidone-iodine and sterile gauze out of the first-aid kit on the ground, unscrewed the cap, poured the medicine onto the gauze, and used her fingertips to pinch the edges of the gauze. Bit by bit, she cleared away the necrotic tissue and residual acidic fluids around the wound.
When the iodine touched the raw flesh, Luo Yang’s fingers dug into the wall, his nails scraping against the broken bricks with an extremely piercing sound.
“I told you not to push yourself,” Qiu Shubai’s voice was very soft, so soft it was almost blown away by the wind.
Luo Yang didn’t speak. Qiu Shubai kept her head down, meticulously cleaning the unrecognizable wound.
She went through piece after piece of gauze, each one stained with a mixture of dark yellow and deep red.
She tossed them on the ground and took new ones, her movements steady from beginning to end.
Yan Zhi approached from the side and crouched on Luo Yang’s other side.
Luo Yang looked down at her. The dust on her face hadn’t been wiped off yet, and a few drops of dark red blood were splattered on the cuffs of her pale pink casual wear, though he didn't know when they had gotten there.
“How about you go with them first? You’re small; you might be able to squeeze in,” he said.
Yan Zhi shook her head and continued to crouch beside him, watching.
On the other side, the deputy captain started the off-road vehicle, the low hum of the engine echoing through the ruins.
Standing between the two ambulances, Tang Xuan pinched her fingers to do a rough head count and shouted to Li Xin, “Twenty-two wounded from the Third Combat Section in total.”
Li Xin jumped down from the rear door of the ambulance, scanned the compartment, and then looked at the deputy captain’s off-road vehicle.
“Throw out some of the equipment and supplies that aren’t absolutely necessary. The space we free up can fit one more person. This way, the two ambulances and the off-road vehicle can take everyone at once.”
The wounded began boarding. Stretchers were pushed into the rear compartments, the lightly injured huddled together on the cushions, and the seriously injured were secured further inside.
The female nurse squeezed through the crowd while holding an IV bag, the hem of her white coat becoming wrinkled from the press of people.
The deputy captain gripped the steering wheel with one hand. In the passenger seat sat a member of the Third Combat Section with a broken ankle, while four others were squeezed into the back. One of them, with bandages wrapped around his face leaving only one eye exposed, was looking out the window.
Li Xin was verifying the count, his lips moving silently and his finger tapping the air as he counted from the first vehicle to the last off-road vehicle.
“Twenty-two. That’s correct.”
He turned back to Luo Yang. “The vehicles are all full, so how will you all—”
“Don’t worry about us,” Tang Xuan suddenly spoke up. “You get the people back first. We’ll find our own way.”
Li Qiang pulled out the last energy bar from his pocket, tore open the wrapper, took a bite, and said indistinctly, “Exactly. My Flowing Cloud Stardust is still usable. If something really happens, I can still hold out for a bit.”
Luo Yang waved his hand, his movement as light as shooing away a mosquito.
The wound Qiu Shubai had just treated was still seeping transparent interstitial fluid, and the gauze she had applied was already soaked.
“Give it a rest. You three have been fighting all night too, and your current state isn't exactly great. I didn’t bring the people from the Third Combat Section out just to have you guys die here in their place.”
He nodded to Li Xin. “You guys go first.”
“Alright. If there’s no danger, don’t leave this spot. We’ll come back to get you.”
The deputy captain stepped on the accelerator, and the off-road vehicle was the first to drive away.
The two ambulances followed closely, their tires crushing gravel and shell casings. Their taillights turned a corner at the end of the ruins, disappearing behind the ramp of the broken viaduct.
The roar of the engines faded into the distance.
The surroundings fell silent. The night wind poured in through the gaps in the factory ruins, carrying the smell of burnt rubber and the faint, lingering scent of blood.
Four people, one girl who might not be human, and a ground covered in broken bricks and dried blood-mud. That was all that remained in the ruins.
Luo Yang leaned against the broken wall, his voice low and trailing off, sounding somewhat relaxed instead. “When you all... filled out your college entrance exam applications, did you all choose ‘stay behind and die’?”
Tang Xuan had her back to him, and her shoulders moved at his words. When she turned around, her face wore her usual arrogant smile. “What, you’re the only one allowed to play the hero? We aren’t allowed to give it a shot?”
Li Qiang leaned against the bumper of an off-road vehicle wreck, folding the energy bar wrapper into a small square and repeatedly rubbing it between his thumb and index finger.
He didn’t speak, only curling the corners of his mouth slightly.
No one cared what exactly the college entrance exam Luo Yang mentioned was.
Qiu Shubai stood half a step away from Luo Yang, her hair slightly messy from the night wind. Bloodfall was placed to the side, its blade reflecting the last few clusters of dark red embers at the break of the distant blast furnace.
“Saying all this is useless now. You should shut up and save your strength.”
She looked at Luo Yang. “That goes for you too. You’ve lost no less blood than anyone else.”
Luo Yang smiled and didn’t argue.
He was already very tired. His wounds were still seeping blood, and there wasn’t a single part of him that didn’t hurt.
Normally, he probably would have collapsed on a bed and refused to get up for anything.
But now, looking at the people around him, a small spark of high spirits actually began to grow in his heart.
One more wave wouldn't be so bad.
He unfastened Night Owl from his waist, the scabbard making a muffled thud as it hit the broken bricks.
Yan Zhi, crouching beside him, fished something out of her pocket and quietly pressed it into his palm.
He looked down to see a piece of candy. The wrapper was wrinkled, and there was no telling how long it had been tucked in her pocket.
Luo Yang stared at the candy and suddenly laughed out loud. He peeled the candy and popped it into his mouth. It was orange-flavored, sweet and sour, and it dissolved quickly.
In the distance, at the edge of the industrial park ruins, something was moving.
It didn’t sound like the noise of mutant beasts treading on bricks and stones; instead, it was the sound of some slimy, soft tissue dragging across the ground.
The sound was very small, almost covered by the wind, but Luo Yang’s ears still caught it.
With the candy still in his mouth, he tilted his head and looked in that direction.
Everything there was shrouded in shadow.
The night wind died down, and the smell of burnt rubber in the air was suddenly overwhelmed by another, thicker, and more cloying scent.
It was like the smell of fermented rotten meat mixed with acid, with half a spoonful of expired syrup stirred in.
Sweet and fishy, slimy and putrid, it burrowed into the nostrils like it had grown tentacles.
Qiu Shubai sensed it too. She reached out and gripped the hilt of Bloodfall, her gaze falling into the depths of the darkness.
Tang Xuan stopped blowing her bubble gum, which stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her fingertips tightened, and strands of white light leaked from between her fingers.
“This smell...” Tang Xuan’s voice was pressed extremely low, as if she were speaking underwater. “What is that?”
No one answered her.
At the edge of the ruins, where the darkness was thickest and most dense, came bursts of low growls.
It wasn’t the sharp screech of a bone lizard, nor the short howl of a Silver Moon Dog. It was a deeper sound, as if squeezed out of an esophagus filled with mucus.
The sound bubbled up from the throat, wrapped in an unpleasant sliminess, as if it had been suppressed in some deep, dark place for a long time before finally spilling out of the well.
Luo Yang placed his hand on the hilt of Night Owl, his thumb lightly pushing the guard open.
The orange candy was almost gone, the sweet and sour aftertaste still rolling on his tongue.
“Rested enough?” he asked as he stood up, his voice very light.
The moment he finished speaking, the darkness at the end of the ruins suddenly split open. From the crack, a thicker, heavier, and more disgusting blackness surged forth.
That blackness was alive, squirming and contracting as it slowly crawled toward them along the shattered ground.
END
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