Chapter 47: Collapse and Descent
Chu Sheng City’s zoning of the JD Ruined City Nuclear Wasteland was always clearly defined.
From the suburbs and outer city to the central city area, divisions were based on air pollution levels, location, and traffic conditions.
The security team and standing army conducted eighty preliminary surveys together.
The security team alone undertook forty-seven in-depth surveys.
Combined with pre-war maps of the JD Ruined City, the zoning of its districts was finalized.
Most zones had distinct boundaries, such as a main road or the JD River.
However, Sector 01 was an exception.
Not only was it hard to delineate the five sub-zones within Sector 01, but even distinguishing it from the surrounding 02 sectors was challenging.
Irregularly shifting high-pollution zones were a key reason.
Still, changes in surface features allowed some inference of the divide between Sector 02 and Sector 01.
Geographically part of the central city area alongside Sector 02, Sector 01 presented a different scene.
The air was thick with denser floating impurities.
The surface was far more desolate.
This wasn’t a ruined city—it resembled a desert.
Sector 02 still had scattered ruins and precarious high-rises clinging to the past.
Sector 01, however, was almost entirely barren, its ruins so corroded they resembled piled sand.
Finding a safe zone in Sector 01B for overnight rest, free from the heavy pollution layer, was incredibly fortunate.
Luo Shi even recorded its coordinates as a potential stop for future security team missions in Sector 01B.
The rampant mutated plants common elsewhere were nearly absent in Sector 01.
Only a few stubborn, wilted yellow weeds grew in shaded spots.
Such a dry environment explained why my throat felt so parched upon waking.
But it also provided a wider field of vision.
When the teammate coded ‘B4’ raised the alarm, we immediately looked in the direction he indicated… What was that?!
An unprecedented sight appeared before everyone’s eyes.
At the desert’s edge, where our gaze reached, a pale blue light pillar stood at the horizon.
It seemed to connect the desert ground to the night sky.
Countless flickers of electric light shimmered faintly within it.
The soft glow wasn’t bright but pierced through the dust’s cover.
Against the still dim, dusky sky, it was strikingly vivid and awe-inspiring.
What… was this… Was this light pillar here last night?
I didn’t need to think to answer.
I was certain that, until I fell asleep last night, no such thing existed.
Something so conspicuous couldn’t have been overlooked from our position, unless we were blind.
B4’s next words confirmed my guess.
“Just… moments ago, I saw that light pillar rise.”
B4 bit his tongue hard, using pain to steady himself.
He struggled to describe the incomprehensible scene.
“It didn’t appear instantly, but it rose quickly. First, a blurry halo, then it shot up as that light pillar. In just seconds, it reached the sky…”
Based on this description, even in my dreams, I had no information about such a phenomenon.
Perhaps the base government hadn’t explored Sector 01 deeply enough to discover it.
Or it could be highly classified information.
If the latter, some of my dream-based assumptions might need to be overturned.
Chu Sheng City’s true purpose, despite heavy losses, likely wasn’t just to eliminate the witch.
That light pillar might be the real reason.
Considering the Research Institute’s role in pushing this operation, it made even more sense.
Compared to the threat the witch posed, an unprecedented light pillar would far more likely spark the Research Institute’s exploratory zeal.
What lay beneath that light pillar?
The reason monsters, even the Tyrant, lingered in the JD Ruined City was likely tied to it.
But what we’d discovered seemed delayed compared to the timeline in my dreams…
“Roar roar roar—”
“Roar roar roar roar!!!!”
As I speculated, a strange roar abruptly interrupted my thoughts, shattering the night’s silence.
Starting with that first cry, the oppressive stillness over Sector 01’s desolate expanse ended.
More roars echoed from all directions, a cacophony of bizarre, eerie sounds from different mutated monsters.
Some were deep growls, others shrill screeches, forming a symphony unique to monsters under the night’s curtain.
As listeners to this piece, its infectious power sent dense chills down our spines.
With so many roars, could all the high-tier monsters in the JD Ruined City Nuclear Wasteland be gathered in Sector 01?
They seemed collectively in a state of abnormal excitement.
Even without solid evidence, we all felt certain the light pillar was deeply linked to their reactions.
The light pillar lasted about ten seconds before gradually fading and vanishing.
As it disappeared, the monsters’ frenzied roars quieted.
Just as we thought this sudden event had ended, everyone’s contamination alarms blared simultaneously, without exception.
The chaotic beeping snapped us out of our stunned silence.
After less than half a second’s hesitation, we frantically donned the gas masks hanging around our necks.
Even if it was a malfunction, we had to react.
The odds of all eight alarms failing at once were near impossible.
The only explanation was that the pollution zone was expanding.
Whether in the pollution layer’s height or breadth, our ‘safe zone’ was no longer safe, swallowed by the elevated pollution layer.
“Could… this be because of the light pillar too?”
Luo Shi looked at Han Nianling.
His question drew everyone’s attention to her.
As one of the Research Institute’s few A-level senior researchers, her expertise far surpassed ours.
“I’ve never seen anything like this. Neither the monsters’ frenzied emotions nor the speed of pollution spread… I can only speculate that the light pillar was likely caused by an intense dark energy overflow… phenomenon…”
Her muffled voice came from under the gas mask.
Due to her research needs, Han Nianling had encountered many anomalies and studied numerous records in Chu Sheng City’s database.
But this situation was unprecedented for her.
In just minutes, the light pillar’s anomaly had caused immeasurable impact.
Faced with the unknown, curiosity, not fear, dominated Han Nianling’s heart.
It was an innate thirst for knowledge, paired with unshaken rationality, shaping her behavior even now.
“Is that direction Sector 01A?”
Han Nianling couldn’t help but ask.
“Yes… it seems to be the crater zone…”
Even Luo Shi hesitated to answer, growing wary of Han Nianling’s fixation on Sector 01A and the light pillar.
Sector 01A, the heart of the JD Ruined City Nuclear Wasteland, was the area directly hit by a ‘Cataclysm’ during the war a century ago.
Its pollution levels were extreme, requiring full anti-pollution gear to enter.
Even monsters rarely ventured there.
For JD City, the fortune was that the ‘Cataclysm’ was a standard model.
The misfortune was its power, sufficient to devastate JD City’s prosperity.
The horrific explosion created a 1.9-kilometer-wide, hundred-meter-deep crater in an instant.
But its true destructiveness lay in the high pollution and mutated viruses it unleashed afterward.
Pre-war humans likely never imagined their weapons would transform their world into this unrecognizable state.
“Relax, no matter how enticing the research, you need to be alive to pursue it,” Han Nianling said with a smirk, as if to reassure, seeing through Luo Shi’s thoughts.
“Your safety is our top priority.”
Unfazed by having his thoughts read, Luo Shi responded with necessary clarity.
“We just need to safely rendezvous with Chu Sheng City’s forces. All further decisions will be left to headquarters.”
“The zombie horde… it’s the zombie horde! It’s moving toward Sector 01A!”
A vast black tide surged from behind us.
After a night of consolidation, the horde’s scale was even larger than yesterday.
But to our immense relief, it was more concentrated, no longer forming the wide, blockade-like front from before.
This meant our plan could succeed: penetrating deeper into Sector 01B to find a way around the horde.
Now, we might not even need to detour.
Returning the same way wouldn’t collide with the horde.
“Take advantage now—the monsters are distracted by that direction. Let’s head back immediately!”
“Boom—!”
Suddenly, a loud explosion shook the building violently, causing everyone to stumble.
A clear tilt sent us sliding to one side.
“What’s happening?”
The collapsing wall plummeted dozens of meters.
With all barriers gone, our space became an open, small rooftop.
I, rolling toward the edge, grabbed an exposed rebar just in time, avoiding the fate of shattering like the fallen wall.
What was that?!
Clinging to the rebar left half my body dangling in midair, a dangerous predicament.
As I prepared to climb back, a disturbance below captured my full attention.
The asphalt and concrete ground was being pushed up and split apart, spreading rapidly toward Sector 01A.
It left a vast, raised ridge behind, as if some creature crawled beneath the earth’s depths.
The building’s earlier tremor was caused by this unknown entity passing, destabilizing the foundation beyond support.
“Zhong Jing! The building’s collapsing! Get to the zip line!”
Han Nianling’s voice snapped me back to reality.
I realized my situation was dire—this wasn’t the time to investigate that monster.
“Hng…”
Though my strength had lessened, so had my weight, a sort of compensation.
Pulling myself back to the platform didn’t take much effort.
But action was urgent.
The building’s tilt was increasing, on the verge of total collapse.
“What are you dawdling for? Move!”
Having just climbed back, Han Nianling appeared from nowhere, grabbed me, and ran toward the zip line, securing us together with a safety harness.
I noticed only Luo Shi stood by the zip line.
Han Nianling must have come back on her own to rescue me, someone without zip line gear…
She was the one who should be protected, yet I, her operative, was utterly failing.
“Hurry! Hurry! The zip line’s at its limit!”
As Luo Shi shouted, the taut zip line was stretched to breaking point.
The building’s collapse accelerated, increasing pressure on the line.
To manage the load, Luo Shi had to go first.
“Hold on tight!!!”
Han Nianling’s feet reached the platform’s edge, but she didn’t slow.
She leaped forward, hooking her carabiner onto the zip line mid-air.
The risky move bought a few precious seconds of escape time.
But the danger wasn’t over.
The zip line still spanned over a hundred meters.
Even abandoning all brakes, we couldn’t reach the end in time.
The hook anchored to the building finally gave way.
The collapsing structure snapped the zip line, our last lifeline.
My vision sank.
A chilling weightlessness followed.
The mere ten meters to our goal became an uncrossable eternity.
We were falling, plummeting toward death.