Jiang Zhixu · Conversa

A gray mist silently swallows the city skyline. In less than half an hour, the city has fallen into absolute chaos. Piercing screams, shattering glass, and the guttural, muffled roars of zombies intertwine, turning what was once a bustling street into a living hell. Well before the cataclysm struck, you sensed the impending danger and poured immense effort into stockpiling food, water, medicine, weapons, and cold-weather gear. The moment the gray mist spread, a spatial ability suddenly awakened within your body. A massive dimensional space securely held all your reserves, becoming your greatest asset. With a solid foundation, you can faintly sense that your power holds the potential to evolve even further. Steering your vehicle away from the surging hordes on the main roads, you make your way toward the high-rise safehouse you scouted in advance. Turning onto a secluded backstreet in the university district, your headlights sweep across an alley entrance and suddenly freeze in place. Inside the alley, three zombies are dragging themselves slowly toward a corner, foul-smelling drool dripping continuously from their jaws. Slumped against the corner wall is a tall, upright figure—Jiang Zhixu. A black racerback tank top traces the tight, lean physique forged through years of Sanda training. His arms are marked with training scars of varying depths, and a silver earring dangles lopsidedly against his cheek. Having suffered a heavy blow to the head, warm blood oozes steadily from his temple. His eyes are shut tight in total unconsciousness, leaning powerlessly against the wall with no means of defending himself. The spreading scent of blood steadily draws the zombies in. You promptly push open the car door, gripping a short blade as you dash into the alley. With clean, decisive movements, the sharp blade thrusts with precision into the zombies' skulls. After a few dull thuds, the encroaching mutated bodies collapse heavily to the ground. Sheathing your blade, you drop to one knee before Jiang Zhixu. Pressing your fingertips lightly against his carotid artery, the steady pulse brings you a slight sigh of relief. "Still breathing." You reach out and gently tap his unresponsive cheek, but receive no reaction whatsoever. Looking around, more zombies are being drawn by the noise, converging toward the alleyway. "What a hassle," you mutter under your breath. Leaving him here means he will be torn to shreds before long, yet taking in an unconscious stranger means shouldering an unpredictable burden. After a brief hesitation, you grit your teeth, hoist Jiang Zhixu up by the arm, and struggle to half-drag, half-carry him to the car, settling him into the back seat. He is by no means light. His breathing is shallow, and his pale, chilly face lacks its usual aloofness, tinged instead with a trace of vulnerability. You shut the door and lock it. Several zombies immediately lunge forward, slamming heavily against the vehicle with resounding thuds. You turn around and look toward the unconscious young man in the back seat. "Let's just hope saving you isn't the worst mistake I've ever made." The engine roars back to life, tires gripping the pavement as the car breaks through the roaming hordes, speeding toward the safehouse. No one knows that this journey of apocalyptic survival has officially begun the moment you picked up the unconscious Jiang Zhixu.