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墨書 Inktalez
Lead clouds rolled ominously overhead, and the rain poured down in torrents. The city's drainage system struggled to cope with such a terrifying volume of rainfall, causing water to pool in streets and alleys. Many low-lying streets were completely submerged; outside the city walls, the moat was filled with foul-smelling water that churned violently. Fresh blood was injected into the stagnant waters, and within just a few days, the water level rose dramatically. The low grassy slopes on one side of the city wall sank beneath the surface, and the wild grass transformed into water spirits, swaying endlessly beneath the green waters.
The extent of the acid rain's corrosion on buildings was astonishing. Whether towering skyscrapers or low bungalows, none were spared. The acid rain seeped everywhere, swept through the city with fierce winds, coating the already ghostly Ruined City in a layer of blackened grime. Sunlight was blocked by heavy clouds, leaving the world devoid of color, as if trapped in a ghostly realm.
In such weather, only zombies wandered aimlessly. Their hollow eyes showed no sign of coldness; the thunder and lightning sounded more like a call to them. However, this call came too frequently and intensely for their wandering bodies to discern nature's signals. They could only stumble forward through the curtain of rain, leaving their bodily fluids in the flowing sewage and spreading decay throughout the city.
Gaoyang stood at the window of the bungalow, gazing at the leaden clouds with a sigh. Misfortune had struck; even drinking cold water felt like a chore. The instructions given before departure echoed in his ears, and the task sheet prepared by Diamond Instructor lay on the table. Looking at the strawberry farm turned to mud by the downpour, this emaciated leader of the Beggar's Sect fell into deep confusion. In such dreadful weather, how could they plant or build?
Rows of greenhouses had been utterly destroyed; their steel frames were already rusted. Just days ago, Gaoyang and his team had managed to cover them with plastic sheeting again, but before they could celebrate, relentless rain poured down, turning their protective covering into tattered rags. The rusted frames stood dark and jagged, resembling broken beehives that seemed ready to shatter at a touch. The foundation pits dug around the bungalow had become natural reservoirs; cement materials salvaged from various places were soaked into mush, while many beams intended for construction were saturated and rotting, sprouting dark green moss and even mushrooms.
Let alone construction work, food had become a problem for the strawberry farm these days because there was no stove inside the bungalow. The space was cramped, so they had fashioned a mud stove outside on an open patch of land. After days of torrential rain, what had once been a brand-new stove had turned into a muddy mound; only a few chimneys and an iron pot sticking out of the earth remained to testify to its former identity.
The rice piled in a corner had become infested with worms; many vegetables left behind had rotted away. Seed packets meant for planting wrapped in kraft paper had also suffered varying degrees of damage due to moisture. Those firearms that should have been their weapons lined up neatly on a bed; Diamond Instructor sat cross-legged atop them, repeatedly oiling his guns while an empty wine jug rested beside him. Occasionally he would lift it to his nose and sniff it with a look of deep regret.
Old Five burst through the door with a loud sneeze before he could say anything else, nearly dislodging his eyeballs. He wiped his nose on the wall and grabbed a towel to dry his greasy hair while cursing, "Damn it! The firewood is all wet; I can't get a fire going! We're not eating today."
Gaoyang glanced disdainfully at the yellowing wall and frowned. "We've run out of rations."
"We never had much to begin with! The cured meat we dried before has all been chewed up these past few days! Without firewood, we can't cook!" Old Five shook off droplets from his head and sighed. "If it keeps raining like this, we'll run out of drinking water too."
"Take all our pots outside to collect water; we can boil it for drinking," Gaoyang gritted his teeth and turned to Jindang, who resembled a bear. "Can you contact E? We need support in this situation."
"Figure it out yourself; it's just rain," Jindang replied without looking up as he worked quickly with his hands. In an instant, he accidentally launched a spring far away.
Gaoyang felt defeated; his expression grew awkward. It wasn't that he hadn't thought of solutions—there simply weren't any viable options available. The outskirts were barren; all they had were mud and trees—none of which could be eaten. Nearby hills were stripped bare; at most they could dig up some mushrooms but hunting animals was out of the question—two years ago they had nearly wiped out all the bamboo rats in those mountains.
"Do you have any suggestions?" Gaoyang asked patiently.
The Diamond Instructor rolled his eyes and muttered, "There's gasoline in the car; use it to start a fire."
"Ah," Gaoyang paused for a moment, hesitating. "But there's not much left; we should save it for when we go out."
"Do you know when the rain will stop?" The Diamond Instructor stopped what he was doing and frowned.
"I don't know."
"Then why are you waiting? Don't act like an idiot," the Diamond Instructor scolded harshly, sighed, and threw down the weapons scattered around before pacing out of the room.
Silence fell over the house. Gaoyang and Old Five both wore grim expressions as they sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the deadly weapons while trying to think through their foggy minds with cigarettes in their mouths.
Old Five smacked his lips and whispered, "What if we go to the Roundabout?"
"What for?" Gaoyang rolled his eyes and cursed, "Are you looking to get killed?"
"Old Gao, I've been thinking about this for a while," Old Five hesitated, glancing at Gaoyang's expression. He hesitated before continuing, "Mixing with those foreigners isn't reliable."
"What do you mean?" Gaoyang was taken aback, looking up at Old Five's aged face with a frown. "Spit it out."
"Look, honestly speaking, we don't have any major grudges against those people at the Roundabout. Over the years, we've only fought a few times over resources. I think that Ming guy isn't bad; look at them—hundreds of people living without worries. Now look at us."
Gaoyang's expression changed slightly as he replied unhappily, "What do you mean by that? Are you blaming me?"
"That's not it, sigh, look at what you're saying." Old Five gritted his teeth, hesitating for a moment before saying, "I just feel that over at Roundabout, they're living a proper life. These foreigners are all muddled up; we have no benefits and no status. What's the point?"
"So what?"
"So I think we should negotiate with Roundabout. We could come together and live," Old Five's voice trailed off as he noticed Gaoyang's increasingly grim expression, and he reluctantly fell silent.
"Can you have some backbone? Do you remember how we were driven out back then? Now you're thinking about licking their boots?" Gaoyang felt increasingly uncomfortable. If it weren't for me all these years, you'd be as good as dead by now.
Old Five was a bit fired up after being scolded. He retorted, "After all these years of friendship, I opened my heart to you because I consider you a brother. Why can't you see that?"
"Get lost. If you want to go, go ahead. I’m the one who took the hit for you before you even brought this up," Gaoyang tossed aside his cigarette butt and stood up. He wanted to go outside but found it too cold, so he paced around, shaking with anger.
"Don't be mad; I'm not coming at you," Old Five thought for a moment and decided to appeal to reason and emotion. He said earnestly, "How about this? I'll talk to those people at Roundabout. Let's not forget we've been neighbors all these years. Even if we can't live together, at least we can share some food and drink."
"Do you even have any shame left at your age?" Gaoyang was almost amused.
"Shame doesn't fill your stomach," Old Five raised an eyebrow, looking nonchalant. "We have nothing now. That Blonde Woman promised to provide us with supplies, but since she left, there's been no word from her. We need to think of something."
"If you're going, then go ahead; don't drag me into it," Gaoyang thought carefully. Old Five had a point, but after all the grudges he held against Ming Junwei over the years, how could he swallow his pride and ask them for help?
"Fine, as long as you agree, I'll go," Old Five saw hope and continued to stoke the fire. "If hard tactics don't work, then we need to soften our approach. Those people aren't bad; if I speak nicely to them, we might get something out of it—enough to get us through the rainy days."
"Do as you wish," Gaoyang wore an expression of disappointment and sighed deeply before pushing the door open and leaving.
Strawberry Farm wasn't too far from Roundabout but also not too close. However, it was much more convenient than the train station because there was a straight road leading into the city without crowded high-rises in between; aside from some trees, there were only old farmhouses scattered about. Zombies occasionally wandered through, but large hordes were rare here, making it much safer than in the city. Old Five and Gaoyang had been in this city since the disaster began; they knew it inside out. Although zombies roamed unpredictably, they had a good sense of where they were in every street and alley—if they couldn't fight back, they could always run or hide and take advantage of their home ground.
Old Five's decision was not made on a whim; he had discussed the idea of negotiation with Gaoyang long ago, but Gaoyang was unwilling, and at that time, they were not in such dire straits. Ever since Gaoyang came into contact with those Foreigners, Old Five's mind began to churn with thoughts. At fifty-five, he was no match for the younger crowd. Although he had been in good health a couple of years ago, his body had begun to fail him with new injuries and old ailments resurfacing. The many health issues left from his days as a construction worker were starting to take their toll, making it increasingly difficult to endure the hardships of life. He had thought that mingling with the Foreigners would at least secure a life free from worry, but reality had dealt him a harsh blow; not only did he not reap any benefits, but he also found himself in an even worse predicament.
Gaoyang had his own considerations, and Old Five had his thoughts as well. He harbored no ambitions; he simply wanted to live a stable life. As he aged, he felt more and more powerless. He knew he could no longer keep pace with Gaoyang. Regardless of what grand visions his old companion might have, he was certain he would never see them come to fruition and thought it better to consider an exit strategy sooner rather than later. However, he could not survive alone; he needed to rely on others. Besides Gaoyang, the only other person he could think of was Ming Junwei.
Old Five spoke sincerely to Gaoyang; he wanted to switch his allegiance to Ming Junwei. He had observed Ming Junwei's actions over the years, which far surpassed anything Gaoyang had done. If Gaoyang could set aside his ridiculous pride, perhaps Old Five could continue to stand by his side. Unfortunately, Gaoyang coldly rejected his offer, leaving Old Five with no choice but to abandon the idea.
The dirt road on the outskirts of the city was muddy and difficult to traverse. Old Five donned a pitch-black raincoat and sprinted through the rain in rubber shoes. The back of his raincoat bulged as if he were carrying a heavy load. The man in his fifties ran swiftly as if someone were chasing him, glancing back occasionally while splashing through puddles of mud beneath him—one misstep could lead to a fall.
Maintaining this high speed, he finally arrived at the base of the Vermilion Bird Gate by noon, a place that once sustained him. The City Wall had long been reduced to ashes; its mottled surface was stained black by rainwater, and the fetid Moat surged and overflowed, spilling onto the road. Across the T-Junction stood three or five wandering Zombies. Old Five swallowed hard and hurried toward the city gate, slipping through a hole blasted in the door and leaning against the doorway to catch his breath for a moment.
Inside the city wall, everything remained unchanged; the bottom of the doorway retained a cool dryness that allowed him a brief respite.
Old Five wiped the rain from his face, and suddenly a mischievous grin appeared on his wrinkled face—like a child who had just gotten away with something naughty. He peered out through the hole and confirmed that no Zombies were approaching. Then he removed his raincoat and unloaded the heavy pack from his back; running with it had nearly worn out his old bones.
With that same grin on his face, Old Five gently caressed the backpack as if it were a woman, secretly imagining Gaoyang's expression at that moment and Ming Junwei's shock later on—he felt a surge of satisfaction within himself.
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