Step, step...
The three of them, Roy, Alan, and Pete, were just about to discuss their next move in low voices when they heard a series of light footsteps and the rattle of the ladder.
Jack came down from the observation post on the roof and walked into the convenience store.
His face bore the exhaustion of a long vigil. Seeing that Roy and the others had woken up, he visibly breathed a sigh of relief, "You're awake, the timing is just right... huh?"
Halfway through his words, Jack suddenly paused, his gaze sweeping back and forth over the three of them with a trace of astonishment.
He rubbed his eyes and said somewhat uncertainly, "You guys feel... a bit different? I can't say exactly what has changed, it's just... you seem to have a lot more energy?"
"And..." He stared at Sheriff Roy's shirt, which was slightly tight around the arms and shoulders, and then looked at Alan and Pete, "You seem a bit bulkier? It's not particularly obvious, but it just feels different from before you fell asleep."
As a colleague who spent day and night with them, Jack could acutely perceive the indescribable changes in the three.
That was not just the mental recovery after a sleep, but more like a fine-tuning from the inside out, as if a dust-covered blade had been wiped clean again. Although still scarred, it faintly exuded an introverted sharpness.
Roy exchanged a glance with Alan and Pete. It seemed the power infused in that void realm was not an illusion and had already begun to subtly affect their bodies.
Roy did not want to talk too much about that supernatural experience in front of the children to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. He just nodded to Jack and said in a calm tone, "You will know when you rest later. Hurry up and get some sleep first, recovering your physical strength is the most important thing."
?
Although Jack was confused, an intense sleepiness hit him like a tidal wave, and he couldn't bother to ask further.
He found a relatively clean corner, hugged his rifle, and fell into a deep sleep almost instantly.
Having gone through high-intensity overnight fighting, standing guard, and mental tension, he really needed to rest.
Roy, on the other hand, looked around.
Emily was leading a few younger children, sitting around an emergency light, drawing on the back of old newspapers with water-based pens found on the shelves.
The drawings were mostly of sunshine, houses, and little stick figures holding hands. The children's expressions were focused and calm, seemingly having temporarily forgotten the terrors of the outside world. Michael and two other boys were playing cat's cradle in low voices.
The convenience store maintained a fragile peace that belonged to children.
With the adults awake, the children had their backbone and were no longer as panicked and uneasy as before.
Seeing that there was temporarily no situation that needed handling, Roy gave Alan and Pete a meaningful look.
The three tacitly walked to the innermost part of the convenience store, a corner near the storage room. This place was far from the doors and windows, so their voices would not be easily heard outside, and they could also keep an eye on the children's situation at any time.
"Alright, let's talk." Roy lowered his voice and got straight to the point, "I don't need to say much about what just happened, you both understand. Emily's words are true, that Emperor, he does exist, and he gave us some kind of mission."
"Hiss... phew..."
Alan took a deep breath, rubbed his face, and tried to make his expression look calm, but the aftermath of shock still lingered in his eyes, "Boss, this is too beyond common sense. Information poured directly into our brains..."
"A parallel universe empire, Astartes, and so on... this is simply like forcefully cramming in a bunch of sci-fi novels and myths and legends, but that sense of power is real."
He clenched his fist, feeling the newly born warm current in his body, "Are we now... considered to be marked by him? Or rather, have we become his agents over here?"
Pete appeared more pragmatic, or rather, he selectively accepted the part of the information that could help them survive, "I don't care if he is some Emperor or god, nor do I care about any parallel universe. One thing he said is very right—"
"We need to make more people believe in him and gather strength."
"Only in this way can we truly fight against those things outside, or even, as he said, possibly save more people."
"The key is how to do it? We only have a few people and a few guns, while outside is an endless fog and monsters."
Roy nodded, gesturing for them to continue. They needed to brainstorm.
Alan gathered his thoughts and spoke up, "The most urgent task is to establish a solid stronghold. We have children with us; we can't keep wandering around in cars."
"This gas station is in a remote location, far from the town center, and the surrounding view is relatively open, so the monster density should be lower."
"But the problem is also obvious... it's too open here, with no defensible features."
"Once we attract a large number of monsters, or if something more terrifying appears in the fog, this convenience store simply cannot be defended."
Pete chimed in, "So the stronghold can't just consider safety; it also has to consider defense and development."
"We need to reinforce the building, build walls, or at least solid barricades."
"We must collect as many weapons and ammunition as possible. Police stations, military bases, and even civilian gun shops are all targets."
"Food and drinking water are the foundation for long-term survival. Just relying on this little inventory in the convenience store won't last long."
"We need to find a stable water source. The nearby river can be used, but we must consider purification."
"Food... in the long run, we need planting and breeding, but that requires time, space, seeds, technology, and manpower."
Roy listened quietly, his brain working rapidly.
His two companions' analysis hit the nail on the head.
He slowly added, "There is another key point—"
"People."
"The Emperor's mission is to make more people believe and gather conviction."
"We can't go door-to-door to spread the word; that's too dangerous and inefficient."
"We need a base, a place that can demonstrate safety and hope."
"When survivors see that this place is not infested by monsters, see that we have food, order, and some kind of protection because of our presence, they will naturally be willing to approach and listen."
"At that time, it will be much easier for us to pass on the Emperor's conviction."
He paused, his gaze sharpening, "So, my idea is..."
"Step one, officially make this gas station and convenience store our initial base."
"Step two, on the premise of ensuring the base's basic safety, we proceed in two steps—"
"Collect all supplies necessary for survival and defense, especially weapons, ammunition, building materials, tools, and medicine;"
"At the same time, strategically and cautiously seek out and recruit reliable survivors."
"Survivors can not only add to our strength, but they might also bring the skills we urgently need, such as people who understand mechanics, construction, medicine, or even agriculture."
Alan and Pete both expressed their agreement.
This line of thought was clear and pragmatic, focusing not only on immediate survival but also aligning with that long-term and grand mission.
"Then, for specific actions." Roy began to deploy, "Pete, you will be responsible for keeping watch. Now that Jack is asleep, someone needs to stay awake to act as a lookout, while also guarding the children and supplies here."
"This task is yours. If there's any sign of trouble, sound the alarm immediately."
"If the situation becomes critical, prioritize evacuating the children through the back door and run toward the woods to the west. We will meet up there."
Pete nodded solemnly, "Understood, boss. Leave this place to me."
"Alan, you're with me." Roy looked at the middle-aged officer. "We will drive one of the police cars out."
"First are other small buildings or houses that might exist nearby, to search for weapons, tools, and building materials such as wooden planks, iron wire, tools,"
"Fuel, and non-perishable food."
"Second is to try to contact survivors, but we must be extremely cautious and prioritize observation to avoid falling into traps or being surrounded by large numbers of monsters."
Alan tightened his tactical vest and checked the ammunition in his shotgun, "No problem, I know there's a US military base to the north."
"We'll start in that direction." Roy decided. "Remember, safety first."
"Our lives now concern not only ourselves, but also the children here, and moreover... that hope which might save this world."
With the plan finalized, the three no longer hesitated.
Pete picked up his rifle again, taking a few magazines and a walkie-talkie...
Although the walkie-talkie might lose signal beyond a certain range, it could be used as a whistle. He then climbed onto the roof, his figure quickly disappearing into the dim twilight and thin fog, like a silent watcher.
Roy and Alan quickly checked the police car they were going to use, ensuring the fuel tank was full and the engine was normal.
They shoved several empty backpacks, police batons, breaching tools, and a case of drinking water into the car.
Roy still picked up a shotgun and a handgun, while Alan chose a rifle.
The two took one last look at the children quietly going about their activities under the warm lights of the convenience store, their eyes filled with determination and concern.
"Let's go." Roy opened the car door and sat in the driver's seat.
The engine let out a low roar, and the headlights pierced through the increasingly heavy dusk and fog, casting two dim yellow beams of light on the desolate highway.
The police car slowly drove out of the gravel lot of the gas station and turned onto the highway heading north.
Soon, its taillights grew dimmer and dimmer in the thick fog and deepening night, until finally, as if swallowed by an invisible giant beast, they completely disappeared into the unsettling distance where grayish-white and darkness intertwined.
On the roof of the convenience store, Pete tightly gripped his cold rifle, watching that speck of light disappear, and then focused even more on scanning the dead, fog-shrouded wilderness around him.
Inside the gas station, the emergency lights gave off a steady glow. The low whispers of the children and Jack's even snoring formed a tiny yet exceptionally precious normal bubble in this world of despair.
And the departing police car, carrying the hope of finding reinforcement materials and more residents for this bubble, drove into the unknown peril...
The police car drove forward on the empty highway, the area illuminated by its headlights extremely limited.
As night completely fell, the fog did not dissipate; instead, under the low temperatures, it seemed to become more solid and oppressive.
Visibility plummeted to less than twenty meters. Outside the window was a rolling, all-consuming grayish-white, as if the entire world was left with only this highway and their lone traveling metal box.
According to the plan made before departure, their primary target was a small US military base about a forty-minute drive from the gas station. Although as local police officers, Roy and Alan had quite a few complaints about the military's style of doing things, under the current circumstances, it was undoubtedly the best place to acquire large-scale weapons, ammunition, protective gear, and even possible heavy vehicles or defense equipment.
The needs of survival and the mission overpowered all past sentiments.
Relying on the car's navigation, which miraculously was still running and even had some offline map functions, as well as the occasionally recognizable road signs by the side of the road, they painstakingly determined their direction.
What was originally a forty-minute journey ended up taking over an hour due to the harsh visibility and the need to stay constantly alert to road conditions.
Finally, they got off the highway and turned onto an asphalt road leading deep into the mountains and forests.
The map showed that the base was located at the end of this road, in a relatively hidden valley area.
The closer they got, the more the surrounding dead silence made their hearts palpitate.
The forest in the fog looked like the silhouettes of silent giant beasts. There were no insects chirping or birds singing, only the rustling sound of tires rolling over fallen leaves and gravel, and the monotonous roar of the engine.
Just when the two felt they were about to arrive at their destination... rat-a-tat... tat...!
Boom... BOOM!
A series of extremely sudden gunshots and explosions, which sounded particularly piercing in the dead-silent forest, came from deep within the fog ahead.
The sounds were somewhat muffled, indicating they were still some distance away, and it was not a continuous, intense firefight, but more like sporadic, intermittent resistance or a skirmish.
Roy and Alan immediately exchanged an alert glance.
Are there still living people in the military camp?
Resisting?
Or... are they other survivors?
Or perhaps some kind of trap?
Roy made a prompt decision, driving the police car to a stop beside a relatively dense thicket by the side of the road, and turned off the engine and headlights.
The thick fog and night immediately swallowed them.
The two quickly got out of the car. Roy slung his shotgun over his back and checked the handgun at his waist and a few shotgun shells, while Alan raised his rifle and slotted several spare magazines into his tactical vest.
There was no conversation, only hand signals.
The two, one in front and one behind, left the road and carefully advanced toward the direction of the gunshots—the location of the military camp—using the trees and terrain as cover.
After walking for about seven or eight minutes and passing through a sparse woodland, the outline of the military camp gradually appeared in their field of vision.
However, the scene that greeted their eyes made their hearts sink.
It was obvious that a tragic and sudden massacre had taken place here.
The barbed wire fence was broken and collapsed in many places. The guard posts were empty. In the clearing near the camp entrance, between the tents, and beside the prefabricated houses, a large number of corpses lay haphazardly.
Most of them were twisted mutants in various shapes. They wore civilian clothes and seemed to come from a nearby small town with a population of about thirty thousand.
These monsters had died in all sorts of hideous postures, their bodies covered in bullet holes or trauma caused by explosions.
But equally shocking were the corpses of the US soldiers, wearing camouflage uniforms but mostly disheveled, some even wearing only pajamas.
Many faces still bore the bewilderment of sleep or the horror of the moment they woke up, with no weapons in their hands.
Clearly, when the disaster broke out, most people were sleeping in the barracks. The sudden mutations occurred internally, leading to extreme chaos and heavy casualties.
Only a few soldiers who managed to react organized a resistance. Judging from the scattered bullet casings and several explosion marks at the scene, the battle was brief but filled with despair.
The entire camp was filled with the strong smell of blood, a burnt odor, and that peculiar rotting stench. It was deadly silent, save for the whimpering sound of the night wind blowing through the torn tents.
"Poor guys..."
Alan said in a low voice, a sense of desolation in his tone.
Right at this moment—
Roar—!
A roar filled with malice came from the fog ahead and to their side!
Several dark figures staggered out from behind a half-collapsed barracks building. They had clearly been attracted by the gunshots just now, or the sounds of the two men's movements.
Judging from the remaining fragments of clothing, there were both civilian mutants and unfortunately transformed soldiers.
"Fire!" Roy shouted in a low voice, taking the lead in raising his shotgun.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The roar of the shotgun was exceptionally deafening in the silent ruins of the camp.
Alan's rifle also spat out short, precise bursts.
However, the moment they opened fire, both noticed something unusual.
The feeling fed back from the weapons in their hands...
Was not right!
Recoil!
The originally familiar recoil, especially the obvious recoil of the rifle in Alan's hands, had now become so minuscule that it could almost be ignored.
The gun body was as steady as a rock in his hands, as if firmly locked in place by some invisible force.
What was even more unbelievable was the accuracy.
Under the limited visibility and fog interference, their shooting was exceptionally accurate.
The spread of Roy's shotgun shells seemed more concentrated, and Alan's bullets hit exactly where he aimed, every single shot striking the mutants' torsos or heads.
"This..."
Alan was both shocked and doubtful, but he didn't have time to think, because an exceptionally strong mutant wearing a torn combat uniform—whom he could vaguely tell was once a soldier—forcefully withstood a few bullets and roared as it broke through the sparse crossfire, lunging straight at Alan with astonishing speed.
"Damn it!"
Alan cursed. He was holding his rifle and didn't have time to completely turn his muzzle around.
Almost instinctively, at a critical moment of extreme danger, he freed his right hand, clenched it into a fist, channeled all his body's strength into it, and viciously smashed a punch right into the face of the leaping mutant!
He originally just wanted to force the opponent back to buy time to adjust his weapon.
However, splat!
It let out a teeth-grinding, muffled thud like an overripe watermelon being smashed to pieces!
Alan only felt his fist hit an object that was a mix of hard and soft, barely feeling much of a counter-shock.
And the head of that lunging mutant, right under Alan's fist, instantly deformed and shattered like a watermelon hit by a hammer. Dark red slurry and bone fragments splattered everywhere.
Thud!
The headless corpse fell to the ground, twitched twice, and stopped moving.
Alan froze in place, maintaining his punching posture, staring dumbfounded at his fist, which was covered in filth but completely uninjured, and then looking at the headless corpse on the ground.
Roy also stopped shooting, watching this scene in shock.
?
The remaining few mutants in the distance also seemed to be intimidated by this violent strike, their movements becoming sluggish.
The power granted in the void realm was displayed before them for the first time in actual combat in such an intuitive and violent manner.
This was not just a recovery of spirit and physical strength; this was...
A tangible, beyond-mortal enhancement.
They realized that this camp of death was both a crisis and possibly hid the treasures they desperately needed, but the price of exploration was clearly much more... bloody than they had anticipated.
And they themselves had already become unpredictable variables in this game of survival...
______
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