Chapter Twenty-Five: The Unexpected

It had already been forty-eight hours. Old Victor silently counted the hours in the basement. In truth, he didn’t much mind his current situation. The basement was well-constructed—cool and comfortable, with a solar-powered ventilation system that kept the air fresh and the humidity at bay. The supplies stored inside could last him half a year, given his appetite. Compared to other survivors in this apocalypse, his circumstances were enviable.

As a once-prominent political figure, Victor no longer harbored ambitions. Since his retirement from public life, he had lived in tranquility, both outwardly and within. His son was not close to him and seldom visited, but Victor felt no resentment. Like many elderly people, he lived without pressure or drive, simply awaiting the slow fading of his days in the twilight of life.

He was not afraid of death now; it lingered always just a step away. Even without this catastrophe, he had only a few years left. The panic and fear he’d shown with Alice had been mere instinct—for the manner of death they faced was too abrupt. If he were to simply wither away in this basement, it was a fate he could accept.

That would once have been his outlook, but now, a sliver of anticipation had crept into his heart. That mysterious young man had revealed a new possibility to him, opening a door he thought forever closed. For the first time in years, Victor felt a spark of energy, an itch of excitement, a stirring within his long-dormant spirit.

His political life was over, his career finished, but that Western youth—Victor keenly felt this young man possessed the power to offer him a new beginning, a chance to fight for something once again.

In the past two days together, Victor had wisely refrained from asking questions. Yet he had witnessed with his own eyes the boy’s astonishing ability—how, in a mere two days, he transformed a child of five or six into something formidable, something out of fantasy films. The boy held the key to changing the world.

Victor’s once placid gaze now burned with fervor. He glanced again at his watch. Forty-nine hours had passed; time dragged on longer than he’d expected. How many years had it been since he’d waited for something with hope in his heart?

He was determined to seize this opportunity. If the youth truly intended to change the world, Victor would not let such a spectacle pass him by.

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Thomas’s group was now down to about fifty people, all members of a special forces unit. Apart from two medics, the rest were all combatants. The military district had initially equipped them well—ample ammunition and medicine, three armored vehicles, and several military jeeps.

Of the three armored vehicles, one was a tracked transport, the other two infantry fighting vehicles. The transport could carry nearly fifteen people, with solid protection and some combat capability—far superior to a civilian bus. But the downside was its high fuel consumption. With no logistical support, relying on local fuel supplies was unsustainable for their convoy.

Abandoning the armored vehicles to commandeer a bus from the street would be much simpler—one bus could fit over thirty people—but its protection was sorely lacking. After much deliberation, they’d nearly decided to give up the armored vehicles, but Guo Lang stopped them, vowing he could supply the necessary fuel.

Thomas was always wary of this mysterious, Westernized Asian, but he was reluctant to part with the vehicles. After some thought, he decided to trust Guo Lang for now. At worst, if they couldn’t continue, they could abandon the extra vehicles later.

The infantry fighting vehicles could carry six each, the transport fifteen, and with three military jeeps besides, it was enough. They could find a bus or a train car as a backup vehicle along the way. After assigning soldiers to the vehicles, Thomas and the female soldier Kelly got into Guo Lang’s car.

Only he and Kelly regarded the young man with the deepest suspicion, so he brought Kelly along to keep a close watch on Guo Lang.

On the road, Thomas learned some details through conversation—the mother and daughter had met the young man after the disaster. Judging from the awkwardness between the man and the woman, this seemed true. Yet the little girl appeared especially close to the man, even calling him “Dad.” Neither party offered much explanation for this.

Another thing perplexed Thomas. Guo Lang had said he was heading downtown on a mission to rescue Congressman Allen, but why bring along these two burdens? It made no sense. Thomas’s men, watching through a sniper scope, had indeed seen the little girl in Guo Lang’s car—that meant he kept the mother and daughter with him at all times.

But why? Thomas felt something was off. He glanced through the rearview mirror at the mother and daughter—suddenly, the little girl was out of sight. He froze, then nonchalantly looked back. Finally, he spotted the child nestled in her mother’s arms like a kitten, while the beautiful young woman held her lovingly—a harmonious scene.

Yet Thomas couldn’t shake a slight sense of incongruity. It was the third time the girl had disappeared from his view. Most people wouldn’t care about a child so young, but as a seasoned special forces soldier, Thomas had a keen instinct for such things; this child was not ordinary.

“Quite the sight, isn’t it?” Guo Lang teased.

“Yes, very pretty,” Thomas replied without embarrassment, turning to flash a grin, his white teeth a stark contrast to his dark face. “Though my wife’s still a notch above.”

“Really?” Guo Lang looked at him skeptically.

At Guo Lang’s disbelief, Thomas gave a soft chuckle and pulled out a pocket watch, handing it over. Guo Lang opened it to see a photograph of a mother and daughter embracing—at least, they appeared to be mother and daughter. The girl was clearly the woman’s biological child from her complexion, but the woman...

She was white, with a model’s figure and looks. Damn, a soldier had landed a woman like that? And a black man, no less—what did she see in him? Or was it... Guo Lang’s thoughts took a turn.

“Mary...” A gentle look softened Thomas’s rugged face. “She’s the prettiest doctor in our town.” He shot Guo Lang a challenging look. “Not bad, eh?”

“Cough, cough...” Guo Lang nearly choked. What was this guy trying to say? He felt a pang of envy—a rough-and-tumble guy had scored such a beauty, and even in uniform, no less. As for himself, he could only rely on a young widow to fill out his entourage... Well, she hardly seemed interested in him anyway.

“It’s all a matter of taste. Yours just has a bigger chest, but what matters now is temperament. Get it? Temperament?”

So they really were a couple? Thomas chuckled, then turned to Laura, saying, “Hard to imagine a woman with your poise would fall for a Westerner.”

Laura smiled without replying, simply lowering her head to stroke Alice’s hair.

Guo Lang let out a quiet sigh of relief. At least she hadn’t embarrassed him in front of everyone. She might be ungrateful at times, but she knew when to keep her peace.

Laura was keenly aware of where her loyalties lay. Compared to these unknown soldiers, she trusted Guo Lang more. At least he had risked his life to rescue her for her daughter’s sake. Whatever his intentions toward her daughter, for now, he meant them no harm. She couldn’t say the same for these soldiers—without Guo Lang, who knew what they might do to her and her child?

Relieved, Guo Lang shot Thomas a disgruntled look. “So, a model-doctor fell for a black guy like you?”

“Our Norrell people are different,” Thomas replied, wearing the universal expression men use among themselves. “We’re stronger.”

“You—!” Seeing his confident, teasing face, Guo Lang wanted to pull over and shout, “Damn it, want to take off our pants and compare?”

But the next second, he calmed himself. Sometimes it was better not to invite humiliation. He consulted Xiaotao in his mind, “How many evolutions would it take for me to be stronger than him?” He stressed the word “stronger” heavily.

Through their neural link, Xiaotao replied with disdain, “Stronger? We’re not some savage beast clan—we are the noble Nightkind! Comrade, your ideology needs work. What does strength prove? What does it prove? What does it prove?”

Sighing, Guo Lang cut off the connection. He almost regretted not choosing the beast race—then no mere mortal would dare provoke his dignity. Even at half his power, he’d be stronger than this guy!

Just as he was about to retort and salvage his pride, the car vibrated with a familiar ringtone. It was the phone Alice had bought for him after he arrived in this world. The Federation’s capital still ran on nuclear power; despite a week of chaos, the grid and cell towers were functioning, so the phone worked. Only two people had the number. With Alice in the car, it was obvious who the caller was.

“Victor? What is it?”

“Sir, I’ve been found. I sense many undead outside...”

“Don’t panic. We’re on our way!” Guo Lang’s face grew grim. He had a good impression of old Victor and saw potential in him. If possible, he didn’t want anything to happen to him. After hanging up, he said softly, “Alice.”

“Yes, I heard,” Alice had already wriggled free from her mother’s embrace, tying back her stray hair into a ponytail. “I’m ready any time.”

Heard? Thomas and Kelly exchanged startled glances. Guo Lang hadn’t used speakerphone; neither of them had heard anything. Their eyes returned to the little girl they’d been watching all along—so she really was special!

Meanwhile, Laura watched her daughter, suddenly struck by a sense of unfamiliarity, her brow furrowing deeply.