Apocalyptic Island - Chapter 51

Chapter 51

The people in the guesthouse seemed to have abandoned the shop and fled in a panic during the early stages of the disaster. Plates on the counter had been swept aside, and breath-freshening candies were scattered across the floor.

Wen Yishu picked up one in a yellow wrapper; the lemon-flavored candy was perfectly intact. She peeled one open to try it, squinting at the sourness. The taste wasn’t bad, so she stuffed the remaining candies into her pocket.

She handed a few to Bai Mi. They didn’t plan on going to the second floor; the first floor was relatively safer and made for a much easier escape. Once all the curtains were drawn, they turned on the lights. The electrical wiring hadn’t suffered much damage, and the indoor facilities were still functional.

While Bai Mi used the stove in the open kitchen, Wen Yishu, having nothing to do, began searching the lobby to see if any food had been left behind. She headed straight for the counter. The front desk wasn’t locked—perhaps the staff had run off in a hurry. The rooms upstairs required a master card to enter, but the smart home system showed they were all vacant. She had checked carefully when she went up; as long as there were no animals in the house, they would be perfectly safe.

The oak counter was over half a person high, so Wen Yishu couldn’t see what was behind it from the outside. She planned to circle around the side. There were no unpleasant odors in the room, so she wasn’t worried about finding someone lying unconscious on the floor.

Suddenly, her footsteps faltered. Her hand, holding the rotating candy tray, tightened instinctively.

Standing stiffly behind the counter was a robot housekeeper. A formulaic, frozen smile was plastered on her face, and as Wen Yishu approached, her eyeballs tracked the movement.

A mechanical voice issued from her mouth: “Welcome… Please register your check-in information.”

Her voice wasn’t crisp or pleasant; it sounded more like an old, neglected videotape—stuttering and distorted, giving off a bizarre, absurd feeling. She moved her limbs, twitching neurotically as if vibrating on the floor, yet she never actually stood up.

Wen Yishu felt a chill from the robot’s gaze. She hated this robot—no, she hated all things programmed with such a lack of manners.

Standing in the kitchen, Bai Mi noticed her frozen in place. She brought the dishes to the table and walked over to Wen Yishu. At a glance, she saw the robot lying on the floor. Seeing Wen Yishu’s pale face, Bai Mi stepped behind the counter and helped the robot up.

The robot’s eyes remained fixed on her, unchanging, its gaze glued to her face, completely forgetting to blink. This robot wasn’t as exquisite as the ones in the Rhine Apartments; it was likely a cheap model bought by the guesthouse owner. There were even puppet-like joint lines on her face that hadn’t been fully blended. She looked entirely like a mannequin, lacking the realism of the apartment models.

Facing Wen Yishu, she maintained her frozen smile and said, “Hello.”

Wen Yishu felt goosebumps rising and really wanted to punch her in the face. Just as she was about to act, there was a click, and the robot housekeeper seemed to lose power, her entire body going limp.

Bai Mi had shut down her core systems. The remote was in the drawer; she had taken it out to turn the robot off and then tossed it back. She slowly lowered the robot and walked to Wen Yishu’s side, patting her shoulder. “It’s okay. She just ran out of power. Relax, let’s go eat.”

The robot housekeeper looked like a marionette with its strings cut. Bai Mi thoughtfully placed her face-down on the floor. Wen Yishu, still uneasy, simply rolled the robot into a ball and used brute force to stuff her under the counter. Her limbs were completely wedged in, making it impossible for her to come out. Only then did Wen Yishu breathe a sigh of relief.

On the table was a simple sandwich—the no-vegetable version. Wen Yishu took a bite; it didn’t have the bread crusts she hated. The soft bread had been toasted with butter, filled with bacon, luncheon meat, eggs, and mayonnaise. It was the most formal and delicious meal Wen Yishu had eaten in days.

She chewed vigorously. “If you had been born normally, you definitely would have been a gourmet.”

Her tone and expression were sincere. Bai Mi didn’t feel offended; she smiled slightly and ate quietly. “Maybe a master chef?”

Wen Yishu gave her a thumbs-up, fully agreeing. Bai Mi seemed to have an innate talent for cooking; she hadn’t done it before, but she picked it up quickly, and the food tasted excellent.

The String of Pearls hooked her finger from below, protesting strongly against resting here and expressing dissatisfaction at not being able to communicate with new plants. Wen Yishu reached down to comfort it until it finally calmed down.

Along the way, she hadn’t encountered any trees that felt “right.” Many large trees showed no aggression, but they didn’t communicate either. Wen Yishu’s greetings mostly went unanswered or received only short, monosyllabic pulses. Tree species like the String of Pearls and the Banyan, which could learn human communication styles, were few and far between. She didn’t dare risk letting the String of Pearls negotiate with others; if a disagreement broke out and a trunk flattened all three of them, the loss would outweigh the gain.

The two washed up in the living room, taking turns to shower in the downstairs bathroom. The water storage here was decent, supplied by an independent solar energy conversion system. Since the tenants upstairs had fled, there was plenty of water. Wen Yishu blow-dried her hair, feeling her whole body relax. If there were no dangers, this would be a quite suitable place to live. The trees outside didn’t seem to have mutated into the town yet.

When Wen Yishu came out, Bai Mi had already pushed several large sofas in the living room together and covered them with thick blankets. She rubbed her hair, grabbed a throw pillow, lay down, and opened her news feed to browse for information. The signal tower here hadn’t been damaged, so the connection was stable.

She hadn’t had time to check the news all day. She found many messages from others; she had almost forgotten to report her safety. Even the person in charge at Warp had contacted her, and she hadn’t replied yet. She sent back a few brief responses—meaningless words, really. Their goal of recruiting her had been achieved, and they didn’t dare press too hard for her secrets. Wen Yishu felt this was a good sign; this tech company wasn’t as heartless as the rumors suggested. If it were those unscrupulous capitalists, they would have seized her the moment she arrived to pry the secrets of Rhine out of her mouth.

She looked at messages from people like You Ning but resisted the urge to click in. Bai Mi wasn’t carrying her database; if unencrypted messages were sent out, they would likely be intercepted by big data, allowing Rhine to track her location. It was better to wait until they returned.

On the news feed, reports of the rat riots in the city were pinned to the top. Wen Yishu looked at the news about spraying chemicals and found it baffling.

“Do you think this looks like the work of the big corporations? It feels like a bunch of idiots made this decision.”

Wen Yishu opened all her permissions. Bai Mi leaned over, looking at the holographic screen, and shook her head. “It was probably done by a small company or an individual. To promote their chemicals, they deployed them without knowing the consequences.”

The expressions on both their faces were complicated. What kind of amateur crew would come up with such a “masterstroke”? Wen Yishu also saw the clip of the expert’s live stream. The Federation was no longer censoring such events and had banned the mid-sized pharmaceutical company overnight as a warning to others. Although the biological drugs they developed were effective against mutated rats, they also made the survivors much more violent, causing them to invade homes frantically. This resulted in massive casualties and incalculable property damage.

The man who died during the promotional broadcast was just a poor scapegoat pulled out as a front. After his death, the company shifted all the blame onto him, sparking a wave of online outrage. However, those with keen eyes could see the truth, and the Federation ruthlessly dismantled the pharmaceutical company. The CEO jumped to his death that day; decades of hard work were confiscated in an instant, serving only to benefit others.

Wen Yishu sighed at the sight. Under such iron-fisted tactics, other ambitious companies temporarily settled down. However, she noticed that the rat outbreaks occurred only in densely populated areas—she wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

Some reckless people online were saying they would return to their rural hometowns, claiming it was better than staying in the city. At worst, they just wouldn’t keep plants, and the food stored in the countryside would last a long time. Staying in the city yielded nothing but constant fear. Many people echoed these sentiments, and some even took action, finding that the mutated plants on the roads were significantly less aggressive toward humans.

If Wen Yishu hadn’t seen those rampaging centipedes today, she might have actually agreed. The outskirts weren’t necessarily safer than the city, especially in rural areas where animals roamed; without the “bronze walls and iron heights” of the city for protection, the death toll would surely be higher. Of course, most of these people hadn’t made it out; they were all stopped by guards at the city gates. The Federation explicitly stated that staying inside was safer.

They would be able to reach the city area tomorrow. Wen Yishu planned to see if she could find a way in during the chaos. In her heart, she was still unwilling to trust Aix, the AI that had already been confirmed as a non-neutral party.

The two browsed the news a bit longer. Bai Mi rubbed her eyes, a hint of sleepiness appearing. Her body hadn’t been enhanced, so unlike Wen Yishu, she couldn’t recover her strength with just a few hours of sleep after extreme exhaustion. Her previous day-and-night trek had left her in a state of fatigue; sleep was non-negotiable.

Wen Yishu simply turned off the optical computer, leaving one small lamp on while turning off the others. Propping her head on her hand, she looked toward the door. Before long, she heard Bai Mi’s even breathing. She turned her head, resting on the pillow, and watched Bai Mi’s peaceful sleeping face, unable to resist poking her soft cheek. Bai Mi gave her a dazed look before closing her eyes again and falling into a deep slumber.

Wen Yishu curled her lips, finding the expression very cute. Just as she was about to lie down, she heard a few soft knocks on the door.

Her body froze mid-motion. Who would be knocking at this time? During the day, the town had seemed completely devoid of living souls. Had her sensitive hearing mistaken it?

She looked up at the semi-transparent glass door. No silhouette was visible outside. Wen Yishu was about to lie down again when she saw a small, dark shadow flickering across the door, and the light knocking sounded once more.

Tuo, tuo, tuo.

Support Apocalyptic Island