Apocalyptic Island - Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Bai Mi stared at her, somewhat dazed, her hands instinctively sliding into her pockets. A trace of embarrassment flickered across her face.

She looked down at herself, as if confirming something.

She asked in confusion, “What’s wrong? I’m perfectly fine.”

Wen Yishu landed a punch squarely on her face. “Drop the act. I’ve seen this trick more times than I can count. I’ve already called you out; is there any point in continuing the charade?”

Bai Mi’s nose bled from the impact. She fell onto her rear on the ground, looking at Wen Yishu with a gaze of vacant terror.

Wen Yishu kicked the bicycle beside them. The heavy-looking mountain bike was instantly sent flying like a scrap of cloth, as if it weighed nothing at all.

She stepped forward and grabbed “Bai Mi” by the collar. Seeing that face twisted in terror triggered a strange sensation in Wen Yishu’s heart.

She felt an urge to crush the person in front of her. Such an expression would never appear on the real Bai Mi’s face; the merman’s clumsy acting was a stain on her image.

“You can’t even fake it properly. Since when is a bicycle so light it flies away with one kick?”

The bicycle, supposedly laden with bundles, transformed back into a mere tree branch. Clearly, the creature hadn’t put much effort into its props; even if a bike could be pushed, it should have a certain weight.

Hearing this, the “person” in front of her began to twitch. The face belonging to Bai Mi distorted. Something seemed to be wriggling beneath the skin, squeezing the features out of shape, as if something were about to burst from a cocoon.

Wen Yishu let go, dodged the merman’s snapping jaws, and kicked the creature over, sending it tumbling.

She suddenly felt a pang of regret. If she had delayed exposing it, could she have let “her” keep her company a little longer?

When a person is bored, time becomes agonizingly stretched. During this short day, no one had spoken to her. Aside from the tedious task of stabbing squirrels, she had felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness. She had been used to being alone before, but right now, Wen Yishu felt miserable. She forced herself to stay sharp, letting out a long breath to calm her nerves.

The merman tried to put up a desperate fight, but Wen Yishu pinned it firmly under her boot.

It flailed comically like a loach on frozen soil, unable to burrow into the mud. Was there anything more terrifying for a “delicious meal” than seeing it turn into a hunter? Actually, yes—the hunter slowly torturing it, letting it soak in the fear of death.

However, Wen Yishu couldn’t be bothered to waste more time on it.

Her strength was overwhelmingly superior. If she weren’t still mentally lucid, she would be indistinguishable from a variant herself. A merman that had just turned into a variant was simply no match for her.

The fish head pressed against the ground murmured in terror, “This isn’t right… How could I not fool you? She is clearly very important to you…”

Wen Yishu didn’t listen closely to its babbling. Instead, she swiftly drove the branch-extended blade into its eye.

A piercing, heart-wrenching scream ended the merman’s suffering.

“If you knew that, you really shouldn’t have tried to lie to me like this.” Because she was important, the disguise was even easier to see through. Mermen were variants; how could they understand the reactions of an android?

But then again, perhaps the real Bai Mi had already entered this forest. After all, the merman’s image had been so vivid. The source of the illusion likely wasn’t far away.

Wen Yishu extracted the crystal from behind the merman’s eye and cleaned her blade. She stood up and gazed into the distance for a long time, but still, there was no sign of Bai Mi.

She couldn’t help but feel a wave of disappointment. Moreover, she couldn’t stay down here any longer. More animals would prowl at night; she couldn’t risk standing in the open.

Wen Yishu tucked the blade back into her waist and, using her optical computer for light, quickly climbed the tree. Fortunately, given the deterrent of the daytime slaughter and the scent of blood below, the squirrels still didn’t dare approach.

The rustling of leaves in the wind and the howls of unknown animals echoed outside. She likely wouldn’t get a good night’s sleep.

Clutching her blanket, she kept her eyes open in the dark, finally drifting into a hazy sleep in the small hours of the morning. A faint rustling noise from below startled her awake.

She flexed her fingers, which felt soft and weak from sleep, and forced herself to sit up. She poked the String of Pearls by the window, but it remained motionless.

Wen Yishu got up quickly and gulped down two large mouthfuls of water. The icy liquid woke her up instantly. It sounded like some large animal was climbing up; the sounds of its ascent were exceptionally clear in the silent night.

Wen Yishu tensed her body, countless worst-case scenarios flashing through her mind. She tried desperately to remember if there were animals like brown bears near Central Park. While Binhai City’s ecology was good, such dangerous wildlife shouldn’t appear in the city center.

Hearing the movements getting closer, Wen Yishu couldn’t help but swallow hard. But… what if? It was the apocalypse, after all; anything could happen. Maybe a bear had migrated thousands of miles?

She truly wished she could open a skylight to see if those annoying squirrels were still staring at her from above. At least then she could determine if the thing outside was a bear or a figment of her imagination.

Wen Yishu heard the sound of bark scraping, followed by the sound of something slipping. She swallowed nervously, holding her only defensive weapon—the short blade—horizontally in front of her. She regretted not bringing the liquid ammo for the flamethrower out of fear of setting the banyan on fire. Even if she didn’t burn the tree, she could have thrown it down to create a distraction.

Taking a deep breath to adjust her state, she was now completely awake. She wanted to pace nervously in the room but forced herself to stay still. Wen Yishu crept toward the window, preparing to take the intruder by surprise. Even if it was a bear, she had to fight to know if she could win. She wasn’t one to give up before even trying; she was a resilient person, and her will to survive would not be extinguished under any circumstances.

Wen Yishu pressed against the wall, listening. The thing outside seemed to have climbed onto the branch and was walking with light footsteps. She felt her heart was about to leap out of her throat. Curiosity and fear vied for control in her mind. What was it?

She stepped one leg back and slightly bent her front leg, gripping the short blade, ready to deliver a fatal blow as soon as the prey got close. Her body was taut like a bowstring ready to fire. Her eyes, adjusted to the dark, stared fixedly at the window.

The thing outside moved closer, reaching the front of the house, separated from her by only a wall. Wen Yishu concentrated, her senses heightening. She could clearly hear her own breathing and the breathing of the thing outside.

Simultaneously, she heard a somewhat abrupt knock on the door.

Wen Yishu broke out in goosebumps, holding her breath and not daring to make a sound. She thought of those old fairy tales where a bear pretends to be human and knocks on a door to trick people into coming out so it can eat them. Her hand gripped the window frame tightly. She had to strike first!

Just as she was about to throw open the window and lunge at the thing outside, she heard Bai Mi’s voice suddenly drift in: “Wen Yishu, are you in there?”

Her hand stopped mid-motion. Then, she immediately threw the window wide open.

Under the moonlight, Bai Mi stood before her. Her black windbreaker was torn in several places, crudely patched with adhesive tape. She looked disheveled, but her spirit was high. With her hair still meticulous and her expression cold and detached, Wen Yishu stared in a daze at her tightly pressed lips.

She lowered the blade, leaned out, and threw her arms around Bai Mi.

It was really her. She had actually come to find her.

The person in her arms trembled. Wen Yishu couldn’t see her expression, but she felt a warm hand gently patting her back. Wen Yishu felt the dampness on Bai Mi’s back.

She let go of Bai Mi and helped her climb in through the window.

The tiny house was cramped with two people. She closed the window and pointed to the chair in the corner; the two of them sat down facing each other.

“Why are you here? Actually, I know… I just dealt with a merman that took your form…” Wen Yishu started talking like a tipped-over bag of beans, recounting everything that had happened. She spoke as if trying to get every word out in one breath. After all, she hadn’t seen Bai Mi for a day and a night. Her clenched fists and tense body matched her urgent speech; she felt as if her internal organs were aching.

Her nerves were extremely taut, yet she was incredibly excited. Bai Mi just listened quietly as she took food out of her backpack. The aroma of the portable canned food she had brought caused Wen Yishu to pause her speech temporarily.

At some point, her eyes had filled with tears, though they didn’t fall. She had been suppressing her emotions for far too long. Even when she fell and the pain was heart-wrenching, she hadn’t cried.

She didn’t know how Bai Mi had crossed the jungle to find her—relying on a non-powered bicycle that an android like her shouldn’t even know how to ride. Under the light of the optical computer, she accepted the heated canned food Bai Mi handed her. At the same time, she saw the dense network of scratches on Bai Mi’s hands. There were bruises on her neck and a bump on her forehead. Even with a calculated route, accidents were unavoidable on the road; the conditions weren’t as optimistic as calculations suggested.

She had pressed forward regardless, compressing all her time to find her without rest.

As Wen Yishu ate the canned food, the steam from the heating pack hit her face, blurring her vision. She found the food hard to swallow emotionally. Bai Mi ate seriously, then placed her can on the table and looked at Wen Yishu’s teary eyes.

“It’s okay. I found you. Although you told me to wait for you, I felt it was better to see you as soon as possible. Humans have a saying: ‘You never know which will come first, tomorrow or an accident.’ So no matter what, I couldn’t leave you alone on the road.”

The words weren’t particularly poetic; she couldn’t think of anything more fitting at the moment. For the first time, she had made a decision without calculation—driven by something called instinct. Bai Mi felt it deeply; she hadn’t included a risk assessment. She hoped she was no longer merely learning, but following her own heart to make a choice.

Like a real human, breaking free from the constraints of mechanical thinking to come to Wen Yishu’s side—the moment an experimental subject develops self-awareness, she is already a complete human being.

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