Picking Up My Ex-Wife in the Apocalypse - Chapter 1
The pain radiated from her heart, inching through her veins until it reached her very fingertips.
On the bed, the woman’s brows were knit in a tight, agonized knot. Cold sweat dripped from the tip of her nose, soaking into the pile of withered straw beneath her. Suddenly, she drew a sharp, ragged breath and bolted upright, gasping for air as if she’d just been pulled from the depths of the ocean.
As her breathing gradually steadied, she looked around, her eyes darting across the room.
This was… her old shack in the base.
What happened? She remembered being shoved into the front lines by the Awakened—serving as nothing more than a wall of flesh to stall the zombies. How was she still alive?
The drafty door creaked open, and a shadow loomed over her. Si Qi looked up. A man in equally tattered clothes stood in the doorway, kicking the mud off his boots. He looked at her with a sinister, predatory glint in his eyes.
“Protection fees for the month. You’re the last one. When are you paying up?”
Si Qi frowned, her brain throbbing too hard to think clearly. She took a shaky breath before forcing herself to speak. “I don’t have any food right now. This is my ID card; it has three points on it. Can you take this for now? I’ll have the rest for you by tomorrow.”
The man stared greedily at her before snatching the card. He didn’t stop there—he grabbed the half-used candle from the table and shoved it into his pocket. “Fine. But the rate doubles tomorrow.”
Si Qi nodded submissively. As she watched him walk out, the faint, polite smile on her face withered into a cold, hard line. Moonlight spilled through the window, casting half her face in shadow. Deep in her eyes, a storm of icy resentment flickered.
Being shaken down for debts… She had returned. This was the day before she was pushed into the horde.
Tomorrow, an unprecedented Super S-Class zombie tide would launch a targeted assault on the base. Ordinary humans without powers would be discarded—thrown out to serve as “nutrients” for the swarm while even the low-level Awakened within the base would be decimated.
Since the apocalypse began, most people had awakened their abilities sooner or later. Only a small fraction remained “dormant,” forced to rely on the base’s protection to survive another day.
But compared to the agony of being torn apart by the undead, Si Qi would much rather take her chances in the wasteland beyond the walls.
Enduring the sharp pain racking her body, she rolled out of bed and dug through the straw. She found a piece of dry, rock-hard bread and tucked it into her shirt. After scouring the room, she managed to scavenge a flint, a rusted iron bar, and a waterskin.
By the time she had gathered everything useful, the sky was beginning to pale. She leaned against the doorframe, looking toward the main gates. Earth-type Awakened guarded that side. Tomorrow, the horde would surge from that direction; escaping through the front was a death sentence.
The back gate, however, was the passage for ordinary people to head out for simple labor tasks to earn points. She decided to head to the mission hall first to pick up a low-level scouting job—a perfect cover to slip away.
******
The base was divided into three tiers: the Core Zone, the Residential Zone, and the Slums. The Core held the high-rankers and the powerful Mutants who led the base. The Residential Zone housed the common elemental users, while the Slums were where the “powerless” lived out their desperate lives.
Awakened could hunt zombies for crystals to level up or trade for supplies. Ordinary people, meanwhile, survived solely on whatever scraps they could earn from manual labor tasks.
When Si Qi arrived at the Mission Hall, it was crowded with people in rags. Fights frequently broke out here over even the safest, most mundane tasks. Si Qi tapped the mission board, scanning the D-Rank listings.
Tasks for ordinary humans usually ranged from F to D. A D-Rank mission involved venturing outside the base to cull minor mutated plants—usually reserved for teams of physically fit humans or new Awakened looking for practice.
In her past life, she wouldn’t have touched a mission like this; the mortality rate was too high. But now, she needed it as her ticket out. When she took the mission card, the receptionist gave her a lingering look and shook his head. Another one with a death wish.
Outside the hall, a group of Awakened had gathered. In the center stood a woman, her long hair falling softly over her shoulders. She listened to the man beside her with a gentle expression, nodding occasionally.
Si Ruxu.
The name struck Si Qi’s heart like a physical blow, leaving a sharp, stinging ache.
The woman’s skin was pale, and she wore a long, light-colored trench coat. Her features were exquisite, though tinged with a hint of fatigue. The apocalypse didn’t seem to have diminished her; she remained as graceful and poised as ever.
In the gutter of this world, no one would ever suspect that Si Ruxu was Si Qi’s ex-wife.
They had been in love since high school, weathering every storm together. They had moved from a cramped rental to a nice apartment, rising from having nothing to total financial freedom. There was no third party, no grand betrayal—they just drifted apart.
Si Ruxu had simply said she didn’t love her anymore.
Si Qi knew her too well. She had felt the quiet finality behind that gentle tone. There was no argument to be had; the love was just gone.
When they met again years later, Si Ruxu had entered the base’s inner circle as one of the first dual-attribute users—Healer and Lightning. She was a pillar of the community, radiant and essential. Si Qi, meanwhile, had fallen into the dirt.
Si Qi lowered her eyes, shielding the hard bread in her shirt. She gripped her mission token and hurried toward the gates.
Whatever Si Ruxu was doing had nothing to do with her anymore. She was just an ordinary human struggling to keep her own life; she had no time or energy to waste on memories.
******
Getting out of the gates went smoothly. Once outside, she didn’t head toward the mission objective. Instead, she bolted in the opposite direction. Mutated plants rarely initiated attacks on humans unless provoked. She was going to gamble—if she could find a safe place to hide before nightfall, it would have to be within the territory of a powerful mutated plant.
Those plants hated the sun, so Si Qi stuck to the shadows. In the apocalypse, seasons were a thing of the past, replaced by cycles of extreme heat and bitter cold. Right now, a violent wind was howling, carrying the scent of a brewing blizzard.
Si Qi quickened her pace. Her breathing was becoming heavy, and her head felt congested. She exhaled a long breath and pulled out the hard bread. Her stomach, which hadn’t seen food in days, cramped painfully. She broke off a small piece and chewed slowly, forcing it down.
Suddenly, a rustle came from the brush.
Si Qi’s ears twitched. She lunged to the side just as a mutated hound lunged from where she had been standing.
The creature’s mouth was lined with rows of jagged fangs. Its skin had long since rotted away, exposing the stark white bone beneath.
Si Qi coughed, nearly gagging on the bread in her mouth. She arched her back, not running, but slowly backing away.
An ordinary human could never outrun a mutated hound. But this one was decomposed, its body falling apart. Since she couldn’t run, she’d have to gamble on a kill.
After circling each other for several minutes, Si Qi swung the iron bar, catching the hound in its flank. But she had underestimated its speed. The moment she struck, the hound’s tail whipped around like a steel rod, slamming into the end of her bar. The impact sent a jolt of pain through her palms.
She didn’t dare hesitate. She lunged forward and kicked the beast to the ground. Then came the bar—again and again. She pinned the creature down with her weight, raining blows onto its skull until yellow ichor splattered across her face.
Driven by pure survival instinct, she swung dozens of times. Only when she saw the green, low-grade crystal glinting in the hound’s shattered skull did she stop. She wiped the crystal, tucked it into her pocket, and collapsed into a heap, gasping for air.
The stench clinging to her was revolting—like a corpse that had been rotting for a month. She needed to wash up… otherwise, the smell would only draw more of those things to her.