Chapter 123: Chapter 123: New Crisis
The commotion died down quickly.
Many people even started walking back quietly.
Just moments ago, they were shouting, cursing, and had even snatched away guns. But now, they were as quiet as a flock of lambs.
Silas Hawthorne glanced at Dominic Trent again.
Mr. Lewis had already let go of Dominic Trent, who was now straightening his clothes. Caught off guard by the glance, he flinched instinctively.
Whether or not Silas Hawthorne had discovered anything about him before, he swore that something had definitely been found out now.
But...
’Oh well. If he’s not going to say anything, I’ll just pretend I don’t know,’ he thought.
"Dominic Trent."
But the man behind him had already called his name.
"Please come with me."
Silas Hawthorne said calmly.
Dominic Trent was speechless.
He sighed and could only follow silently.
As for where they were going, Sue Lawrence knew better than anyone. They were going to discuss a "collaboration." Hahahahaha!
’Maybe they’ll even take a sample of Dominic Trent’s Superpower, too! Hahahaha!’
Sue Lawrence was ecstatic. In any case, she found it quite amusing to see someone else walking the same path as her.
Sue Lawrence returned to her room.
Outside, the natural disasters were still playing out on the big screen, but everyone had calmed down and was watching quietly.
A great flood submerged everything, hiding all the buildings under the water.
The situation underwater was invisible, but all sorts of things floated on the surface: vehicles, household garbage, dead wood, and withered leaves...
This situation continued for more than three months.
After more than three months, the temperature began to drop, and the floodwaters started to recede.
No one knew where the flood had come from, and naturally, no one knew where the waters would recede to. It all just happened.
When the outside temperature dropped to 32 degrees Celsius and the floodwaters had completely receded, the base’s gates opened. The people walked out, finally standing on solid ground again after so long.
The mission they were given was simple: rebuild their home.
"Rebuild our home?"
The three words floated out from the broadcast, light as air, but they landed on the devastated ground with the weight of a thousand-ton boulder, making everyone’s heart sink.
The world before them no longer resembled the city it once was. What the receding flood left behind was a scene of utter devastation.
Mud mixed with rotting garbage coated the streets. The once-smooth roads were now pockmarked and treacherously soft from the water. Every step left a deep muddy footprint, and foul water seeped through the seams of their shoes to their ankles, carrying a pungent, musty stench.
Rusted cars were piled haphazardly on the roadsides. Some were mangled by the floodwaters, their windows shattered, with damp branches and tattered rags clinging to their frames. The walls of skyscrapers were mottled and peeling, their windows nothing but hollow black cavities. From a distance, the entire city looked like the carcass of a dead beast, devoid of life.
But no matter how difficult, life had to go on, and their home had to be rebuilt.
The base distributed tools: worn-out shovels, hoes, brooms, and simple protective masks. Despite the scarcity of supplies, everyone gripped their tools tightly and marched silently toward the ruins.
No one complained anymore. After surviving extreme cold, extreme heat, and a monstrous flood, just being alive was a stroke of luck. To be able to stand on solid ground again was the greatest luxury they could hope for.
The first task was to clear the streets.
The men shouldered their shovels, digging away at the thick sludge and piled-up garbage one shovelful at a time. The waterlogged household waste was so swollen that it burst at the slightest touch, instantly releasing a foul stench. Some couldn’t help but double over and gag, but they simply wiped their faces and went back to work.
The women, meanwhile, used brooms to sweep away the leaves and debris from the road surface, gathering larger pieces of rubbish into piles. Designated workers then used wheelbarrows to transport it all to a specified landfill site.
Everyone had a clear role, and no one slacked off. The clamor of hard work replaced the old panic, and the once-dead streets gradually came back to life.
Halfway through clearing the garbage, someone found piles of dead leaves and rotten wood. Sue Lawrence stood in the crowd, watching as Silas Hawthorne directed people to gather these seemingly useless materials, dig a deep pit, and carefully bury them.
"After these dead leaves rot, they’ll become natural fertilizer. We’ll need it for farming later."
Silas Hawthorne’s voice was calm but forceful. Hearing this, the crowd worked even harder to move the dead branches and leaves into the pit. They all knew that to survive, food was fundamental. These inconspicuous things were now their hope for staying alive.
Once the streets were roughly cleared, the work of leveling the ground began immediately.
The flood had washed the ground into an uneven mess. To plant crops and build houses, they had to level the land first.
With hoes and rakes, they broke up compacted soil, filled in depressions, and crushed clods of dirt, bit by bit. Even when their palms blistered and their arms ached so much they could barely lift them, no one stopped.
Sue Lawrence watched as the barren land was slowly tilled until it was flat and soft. Her eyes filled with anticipation. ’Once the ground is ready and the seeds are sown, it might not be long before we see green again. We won’t have to live in constant fear, relying on stockpiled food anymore.’
Elsewhere, in a selected safe zone, a group had already started laying foundations for new buildings.
Without advanced machinery, they relied on manual labor to dig pits and move stones, piling up sturdy rocks that had withstood the flood to serve as the foundations for the houses.
Silas Hawthorne directed from the side with a few skilled individuals, managing both safety and progress. Dominic Trent stayed close to him. After their earlier conversation, he had become much more compliant and was working exceptionally hard. He had clearly accepted the so-called "collaboration" and was fixated on seizing this chance to survive in the apocalypse.
As the sun began to set, the people who had been toiling for most of the day took a short break. Some leaned against rocks, panting, while others cupped murky water in their hands and sipped it. They were exhausted, but their hearts were steady.
Sue Lawrence leaned against a corner, watching the busy scene before her. The earlier smile still lingered on her lips. She felt that everything was heading in the right direction. But just then, a strange noise suddenly came from a pile of rubble in the distance.
"CREAK... CRUNCH..."
It sounded like rotting wood snapping, or perhaps something dragging its feet as it moved slowly through the mud. The sound was faint, yet exceptionally clear, cutting through the clamor of their work.
Everyone instantly stopped what they were doing and turned toward the source of the sound. Their nerves, which had just begun to relax, snapped taut again. Having survived countless disasters, they had developed an extreme sense of vigilance. Silas Hawthorne’s expression darkened. He raised a hand, signaling for silence, his sharp gaze sweeping over the pile of broken bricks and shattered tiles. The air around him instantly grew cold.
Dominic Trent’s heart clenched. He subconsciously edged closer to Silas Hawthorne, his palms breaking out in a cold sweat.
The pile of rubble stirred slowly. A broken brick tumbled down. Then, a figure covered in sludge and filth shakily crawled out from the debris.
Its skin was a sallow gray, shrunken tight against its bones. Its eyes were cloudy and dull, utterly devoid of life. Its mouth hung slightly open, revealing yellowed fangs, with a murky slime dribbling from the corners. It moved on stiff limbs, its actions slow yet possessing an unnatural rigidity. Every step produced a shuffling, scraping sound.
