"You say... you have such a mutant plant at home?" Zephyr finally broke his silence, his voice still deep and cold but carrying a barely detectable note of inquiry. His ice-lake eyes fixed unblinkingly on Elara, attempting to discern truth from fiction in her expression.
Elara met his gaze with an open smile: "Yes, called 'Foam.' A pretty little thing, though its temperament... well, needs some 'guidance.'" She skillfully avoided mentioning Foam's specific abilities, emphasizing only its tameable nature and distinct "personality."
Cassian chimed in with well-measured interest: "Sounds intriguing. Since you have experience handling these mutant plants, perhaps we should check out this place you mentioned. Getting more samples or understanding their behaviors better could help our future operations." His suggestion was logical, serving both to verify Elara's information and establish new grounds for cooperation.
After brief discussion, the group decided to change their original plans and head to the suburban villa Elara mentioned. She mused internally about how the villa, which she had short-term rented at a bargain price from a landlord rushing to leave the country (who had looked at her like she was crazy), had now become her legitimate "asset" in this changed world.
Despite mental preparation, the journey to the suburban villa proved unpredictable. They switched from the conspicuous Jeep to a more discreet but modified SUV with excellent power and defensive capabilities.
Throughout the journey, Vespera maintained mental connections with encountered zombies, both to practice her abilities and serve as the team's "long-range radar." As the apocalypse progressed, not only were the zombies growing stronger, but Vespera's own abilities were developing rapidly. Her vision through the "eyes" of indirectly controlled zombies was expanding.
Unlike Elara's space-time ability, which offered complete 360-degree sensing within a relatively narrow range, Vespera's vision was more like a fan-shaped reconnaissance area - limited in horizontal width but surprisingly long in range. She functioned like a mobile watchtower, providing early warnings of distant dangers.
"Ahead... people," Vespera suddenly spoke softly from Emily's arms, where she had been sitting quietly with closed eyes. Her voice was faint but certain.
They had reached the edge of what was once S city's most famous luxury shopping center, home to global premium brands and a magnet for wealthy socialites, fashionistas, and curious tourists. After the apocalypse, its dense population had made it a severely infected zone. Broken display windows, scattered luxury packaging, and mindlessly wandering zombies silently testified to the contrast between past glory and present desolation.
"Many people? Living or..." Elara asked alertly in a low voice.
Vespera's small brows furrowed slightly as she concentrated: "...Living... few... one... surrounded by many... many things..." Her description was fragmented but conveyed the key information.
Following Vespera's guidance, the SUV carefully navigated deep into the commercial district. When they finally reached their destination after numerous turns, the scene before them gave pause even to the experienced group.
In the middle of the street, a once-luxurious jewelry store was now completely encased in countless brown, seemingly dead branches and vines, forming a massive, irregular oval "cocoon." The structure appeared extremely sturdy, its surface covered in vicious wooden spikes, like a dying beast desperately protecting something.
Around this "chrysalis" lay a horrific battlefield. Countless zombies hurled themselves at the cocoon like blood-scenting sharks, emitting bone-chilling howls. At the cocoon's base lay thick layers of zombie limbs, clearly victims of the cocoon's defense mechanism. The number and completeness of limbs increased toward the top, suggesting the cocoon's attacking power was gradually weakening. Now, the dead wood and vines had almost ceased offensive actions, barely maintaining a defensive posture as zombies frantically clawed and bit at them.
Elara focused her hearing, catching faint sounds in the wind. She subtly adjusted her space-time ability to enhance her auditory perception.
Indeed, barely audible, intermittent murmurs reached her ears through the layers of obstruction:
"...water... water... help..."
The voice was hoarse and weak, filled with dying desperation. Then came an even fainter plea:
"...money... I have... lots of money... please..."
Elara's pupils contracted slightly. There really was a living person trapped inside the "chrysalis"! And from the sound of it, they were at their last breath.
The moment they confirmed there was someone alive inside the "chrysalis," Cassian and Elara simultaneously made the decision: "Clear the perimeter, save them!"
The two exchanged a brief glance of mutual appreciation before springing into action.
Zephyr took point, his pale blue eyes flashing coldly as the air pressure around him suddenly dropped. With a simple raise of his hand, a savage miniature tornado—or more accurately, a blizzard of countless high-speed rotating wind blades—erupted from his center, sweeping outward!
"Swoosh—"
The sound wasn't like normal wind, but rather the shriek of countless blades slicing through air. Any zombies caught in this "wind blade meat grinder" were instantly cut, torn, and disintegrated before they could even howl, reduced to floating particles. The process was incredibly clean, with minimal blood splatter—only some harder bone fragments and crystal cores remained, glinting on the ground.
This terrifying mass-elimination ability was far more impressive than his earlier handling of the mutant vine. While that had demonstrated precise control and single-target suppression, this large-scale, destructive clearing ability truly revealed his prowess as a top-tier ability user.
Elara watched in silent shock. Even in her ten years of apocalyptic experience before rebirth, such power would have been considered apex-level.
Within moments, Zephyr had eliminated most of the zombies surrounding the "chrysalis." Despite using such powerful abilities, he only showed slight pallor and light sweat, his breathing somewhat quickened but his gaze still sharp as an eagle's, clearly having energy in reserve.
Elara seized this opportunity to "fish in troubled waters." Following the edge of Zephyr's attack range, she used the chaos and visual obstruction, along with scattered zombie remains as cover, to practice and expand her control over her space-time abilities.
Her Glock 19 moved like an extension of her arm, its shots barely noticeable amid Zephyr's "blizzard" but unfailingly precise. Unlike Zephyr's overwhelming, direct style, her shooting technique showed the cunning and ruthlessness forged in real combat. Without textbook postures or deliberate aiming pauses, she relied purely on combat intuition and muscle memory built over ten years of rebirth, each movement efficient yet distinctly "street-styled." She sometimes used subtle spatial distortions to adjust bullet trajectories for impossible-angle hits, other times conjuring space blades to finish off zombies trying to slip through Zephyr's blind spots.
Seraphina handled ranged suppression, preventing newly attracted zombies from joining the fray. Her flames whipped out like precision lashes, igniting targets one by one. Meanwhile, Cassian maintained his characteristic fluidity, his water abilities alternating between ice barriers for defense and water arrows for precise kills, like a calm commander monitoring every corner of the battlefield.
When Elara's perfectly concentrated spatial blade cleanly bisected the last resistant zombie at the waist, the massive "chrysalis" encasing the jewelry store seemed to exhaust its final life force. The dying wooden vines, which had maintained a faint vital aura, instantly lost their luster, rapidly withering, shrinking, and breaking apart like all moisture had been drained from them, collapsing with a cascading "rustle."
As the "chrysalis" disintegrated, a frail figure tumbled out from the crumbling dead wood, landing heavily on the zombie-debris-covered ground with a dull thud.
It was a young man, barely in his early twenties. He wore expensive clothing, now torn and stained with dirt and blood, his brown hair matted against his sweat-soaked forehead. His face was paper-white, cheeks deeply sunken, lips cracked and blood-stained—clear signs of prolonged dehydration, starvation, and extreme terror and exhaustion.
Emily, with a mother's heart, immediately felt pained seeing the young man's pitiful state, her eyes filling with sympathy and concern.
Zephyr stepped forward, briefly checking for the man's weak breathing and pulse before efficiently hoisting him onto his shoulder. Though not gentle, his movements were steady as he carried the man back to the SUV.
Once the young man was settled in the back seat, Emily decisively pulled out her water flask, carefully unscrewed the cap, and supported his head, bringing the spout to his cracked lips to feed him water slowly.
"Drink slowly, slowly..." she soothed, her movements as gentle as if caring for her own child.
Though seemingly unconscious, survival instinct made the young man reflexively swallow the life-saving water.
"This poor child... who knows how many days he suffered here... Lord have mercy..." Emily sighed as she continued feeding him water, her voice full of maternal affection.