Chapter Ten: Medicine

“This kind of medicine isn’t something you’d find in an ordinary household, and there’s no way you could get it at a convenience store!” Glasses exclaimed, “It’s prescription only.”

“Then we have to try the pharmacy or the hospital. Otherwise, he’ll never make it till dawn,” Li Qingshui reached out to check Liu Chang’s temperature again. “It’s already a miracle he’s alive.”

“With things as they are now, you can’t see your hand in front of your face out there. Who’d dare go outside?” Glasses said, still shaken.

“I’ll go myself,” Liu Chang forced his eyes open at that, “Staying here is certain death. If I go out, at least there’s a sliver of hope. Besides, pharmacies and hospitals aren’t hard to find—there’s a hospital just two intersections away from here. I’ll go on my own. Maybe it won’t be as dangerous as we fear.”

With that, Liu Chang braced himself against the wall and rose, his cracked lips stretching in a grim smile. “Does anyone have a flashlight?”

“I do.” Glasses pulled a flashlight from his bag and handed it over. “The battery’s full. It’ll last for hours.”

“That’s good enough.” Liu Chang passed his backpack to Glasses. “There’s food and some medicine inside. If I don’t come back, these are yours.”

He took up the crowbar again. Left hand gripping the flashlight, right hand holding the crowbar, a pistol tucked at his waist, he staggered to the door.

“Wait.” A familiar voice called from behind him. “I’ll go with you.”

Liu Tao hurried up.

“Hah, I didn’t expect you to have a heroic streak.” Liu Chang didn’t pause, pushing open the locked door into the darkness beyond.

He melted into the night, relying on the thin beam of light cast by the flashlight over the ground as he felt his way forward.

All manner of plants grew here, waist-high now, and with the thick fog, moving forward felt like hunting for treasure with a firefly. It was impossibly dark.

And utterly silent.

The fog muffled sound, making it impossible to hear anything a hundred meters away. Immersed in the darkness, it was as though they had been cast out of the world—cold and alone.

“Heh, scared yet? I told you to wait for me,” another ‘firefly’ caught up—it was Liu Tao.

“Why are you so nice to me? If you were a girl, I might’ve fallen for you right now,” Liu Chang joked, fighting off dizziness. “Smart, good-looking, willing to help—what a pity, what a pity…”

“Pity my ass. If you were a girl, you’d owe me your life by now. Enough talking, save your strength for the road!” Liu Tao gave him a push.

They fell silent, relying on the dim glow to fumble their way forward.

The journey wasn’t far—just over a kilometer, two intersections away. Both knew the area well. On a normal day, it would be just a ten-minute walk.

But now, everything was different. The world was pitch-black; standing in the middle of the street, you couldn’t see the buildings on either side, couldn’t orient yourself by familiar landmarks. The ground was treacherous: once-solid concrete broken and uneven, scattered with rubble, mud, and tangled stems, every step a struggle.

And always, there was the threat of danger lurking.

The walk was anything but peaceful.

Still, relying on their familiarity with the streets, they managed to grope their way to the hospital entrance. It wasn’t exactly safe, but at least they hadn’t encountered anything truly perilous—a stroke of luck amid misfortune.

“Do you know why I wanted to come with you?” Liu Tao suddenly asked as they stepped through the hospital doors.

“I’m sure it’s not just to help me out. You seem clear-headed enough not to be blinded by heroics,” Liu Chang replied as he slowly entered, weeds overrunning the courtyard.

“Yeah, it’s because I have a wound too, and I’m infected,” Liu Tao lifted his leg in the tangled grass, shining his flashlight on his ankle.

When the light hit, Liu Chang saw two small, round punctures. The wounds weren’t large, but deep; pus and blood oozed steadily, though it wasn’t as horrifying as his own injury.

“What happened?” Liu Chang looked up.

“Snake bite. When you first came home, I got bitten. Not a venomous one—hurt like hell at first, then stopped, so I didn’t think much of it. Until just now, when I realized I had a fever and heard about your symptoms. That’s why I wanted to come—I think we’re in the same boat.”

“I see.” Liu Chang wobbled onward. “But you don’t seem as bad as me.”

“My temperature’s not quite thirty-eight yet, but it keeps climbing,” Liu Tao said. “So I can’t wait any longer. The more I delay, the weaker I’ll get, the lower my chances of survival. The sooner we sort this out, the better. I don’t want to drag this out till morning.”

Having received a clear answer, Liu Chang did not speak further. With his temperature over forty-two degrees, his mind was barely lucid.

Everything around him seemed to twist and spin, dizziness intensifying. Only by biting his tongue and holding onto the pain could he preserve the last shred of clarity.

“Hang in there, we’re almost there.” Liu Tao saw his state and pulled him forward.

Together, they staggered into the hospital’s interior.

“The pharmacy’s over there,” Liu Tao pointed ahead.

“You think there’ll be monsters here? In horror movies, hospitals are always the deadliest places,” Liu Chang joked weakly, as though humor might keep his mind off his suffering.

“It’s hard to say, but even if there are, we have to go. If we don’t, we’re both dead.”

Dragging Liu Chang along, Liu Tao opened the pharmacy door; immediately, they heard strange noises.

The light revealed no monsters—only bodies, sprawled across the floor.

“What the hell?” Liu Tao gasped, but no one answered.

The people on the floor looked desperately weak.

“In this ruined world, did you really think we’d be the only ones with infected wounds? If the microorganisms have mutated, then sick people won’t be few,” Liu Chang forced out the last breath from his lungs. “Forget about everyone else, just find antibiotics and strong fever medicine. That’s what matters.”

He found a spot by the wall, away from the crowd, and leaned against it.

Liu Tao quickly searched through the pile of medicine, picking out what they needed. He took a dose himself, then helped Liu Chang take one.

“I don’t know if I’ll make it to morning,” Liu Chang said, after taking the medicine and pouring iodine over his wound. He forced himself to stay awake—afraid that if he closed his eyes, he might never open them again.

“You should be able to,” Liu Tao said, though his voice lacked conviction, as he glanced at Liu Chang’s current state.

“Thank you.” Liu Chang’s dark pupils shifted to Liu Tao’s face, and he gave a cracked smile. Blood instantly seeped from his fevered, dry lips.

“No need to thank me. I’m not doing it for you. Just happened to help you out.”

Liu Tao found a clean spot beside him and sat down.

“Why is it that all the other creatures mutated, but humans haven’t? If this red mist is some kind of catalyst, shouldn’t some humans mutate as well?” Liu Chang curled his legs to his chest, staring again at the nasty wound on his ankle.

“Didn’t they teach us in biology? The more complex an organism, the harder it is to mutate. If that’s true, then as the most complex creatures on Earth, humans would be the last to change. It’s not surprising.”

“Is that so? Hah…” Liu Chang managed another smile. At last, unable to withstand the overwhelming dizziness, even with all his strength, his eyelids grew too heavy. He finally let them fall shut.