At the basement door that connected to the underground loading bay, Lan Shiru spotted two zombies lying motionless both with their heads removed by Jiang Xiang. One was a guard, likely the night watchman and the other a delivery driver. It was hard to tell who had bitten whom, but both had ended up as zombies, wandering aimlessly before meeting their end. Their decaying bodies were barely recognizable.

What delighted Lan Shiru, however, was the sight of the large delivery truck. With a capacity of several tons, it was packed with brand-new medical equipment—an unexpected bounty for her.

With a wave of her hand, she stored the truck and the entire basement’s inventory into her space. She organized all the medical supplies neatly on a concrete floor within the space.

Once she was sure nothing was left, she brought Jiang Xiang into her secret space as well.

For a moment, Jiang Xiang seemed bewildered tilting his head at her. “Woof?” What’s going on?

Lan Shiru chuckled, amused by his reaction. “This is our secret space,” she explained. “When we’re exhausted, we can rest here for a bit. We can’t stay too long, but I’m not exactly sure why yet. It’s okay, though; just being able to take short breaks is enough, right?”

“Woof, woof.” he agreed.

“Alright, let’s check on Le Bao in the hut and get you a bath,” she said.

With his heavy steps, Jiang Xiang eagerly followed his master, curious about this little one he hadn’t yet met.

Inside the old hut, little Le Bao was whimpering, his small face scrunched up in discomfort.

Lan Shiru reached out to touch the bedding and, sure enough, it was almost soaking. She lifted the little one and gave him a kiss. “Le Bao, are you also a water-element like Mommy? How else could you get this wet?”

A faint grumble came from him, a tiny protest—“Not that wet, Mommy! So mean.”

Laughing, Lan Shiru kissed him again. Jiang Xiang came over, eager to nuzzle, but his big, furry face brushed against Le Bao, causing him to sneeze several times in a row.

Startled, Jiang Xiang backed out of the hut, looking innocent and confused. He hadn’t meant to do anything!

Lan Shiru laughed until tears pricked her eyes. “Don’t worry, Jiang Xiang,” she reassured him. “He’s just little. He’ll be fine when he’s older.”

Jiang Xiang tilted his head, still a bit lost. He didn’t quite understand.

Shaking her head, Lan Shiru chuckled. He’d understand someday, after all Jiang Xiang was only a year old himself—still a pup, in a way.

She filled a basin to clean Le Bao, dried him off with fresh bedding, fed him, and waited until he was deeply asleep. Then, she stepped outside the hut to give Jiang Xiang a much-needed wash.

With Jiang Xiang’s size, washing him would’ve been impossible without her unique water ability. Unlike others, whose powers could only produce small amounts of water at first, she could summon a constant flow without needing any upgrades. She wasn’t sure why her power worked this way, but she was grateful.

Soaking his fur and using up nearly an entire bottle of shampoo, Lan Shiru scrubbed her loyal friend into a lather. “Jiang Xiang, maybe I should just shave all this fur off. Then we wouldn’t have to wash you every time you fight off the zombies. So much trouble, isn’t it?”

“Woof, woof.” Jiang Xiang gave an indignant growl, clearly protesting. He was a proud and stylish Tibetan mastiff.

With a fiery red coat that made him the flashiest in any crowd. Shaving it off? Not a chance.

Lan Shiru playfully tugged one of his ears. “So vain! How are you going to find a mate if you’re this picky? Destined to be a single dog.”

Not understanding what “single dog” meant, Jiang Xiang only knew one thing: no shaving.

After his bath, he shook himself out in one graceful motion, sending water droplets flying. Lan Shiru, now soaked, sighed his name through clenched teeth. “Jiang Xiang…”

Jiang Xiang covered his eyes with his paws, as if to say, I didn’t mean to!

Lan Shiru sighed and set to cleaning herself up, putting on her last set of dry clothes. The need for food, clothing, and supplies was getting urgent.

“Jiang Xiang, are you hungry?”

“Woof!” Hungry—starving, actually.

She glanced at her watch. It was 1 a.m., a full 24 hours since the acid rain began. Day two of the apocalypse had just begun.

“Alright, let’s gear up. We’re heading out to find some food. At this hour, there won’t be many people around. There are plenty of restaurants near the hospital. It’s only been a day—there’ll definitely be food left. We’ll hit every spot we can and eat until we’re full.” She grinned. “And while we’re at it, there should be some pharmacies, baby supply shops, clothing stores, and mini-marts nearby. Before anyone else even realizes, we’ll be loaded.”

“Woof!” Jiang Xiang barked eagerly. Let’s go—this mastiff can’t wait!

Lan Shiru chuckled, double-checked that the little one was sound asleep, and with Jiang Xiang reappeared in the basement.

With the makeshift iron rod Jiang Xiang had helpfully “found” for her, she felt much more prepared.

The warehouse doors were locked with both a keypad and key lock, but the pair weren’t interested in figuring them out. Another clawed opening was enough to slip through.

Outside, the loading dock was silent and empty. This area was strictly for hospital deliveries, so there were no other vehicles.

Together, they ran down the deserted passageway. It wasn’t very long, and in just five minutes they emerged into the open, taking in the post-apocalyptic streetscape.

The once-bustling city was unrecognizable—reduced to ruins, the ground and buildings pockmarked with craters. Trees, flowers, everything green had withered and blackened.

Only a few streetlights were still holding their ground, and the occasional flicker from a neon sign cast a weak glow. Scattered corpses lurked up and down the streets, sparse now, but soon they would be joined by others emerging from their decaying homes. Soon, the streets would be swarming.

“Welcome to the apocalypse!” Lan Shiru raised her arm in a mock cheer, taking a deep breath of the heavy air. This was the scent of the end times, the smell that haunted even the years she spent as a ghost. Oddly enough, it felt familiar, almost comforting.

Jiang Xiang tilted his head, giving his owner a puzzled look. What does that mean?

Lan Shiru chuckled, ruffling his fur. “Let’s go.”

Jiang Xiang took off at a sprint, with Lan Shiru close behind. By the time the corpses heard the noise and turned, the two were long gone, leaving the undead to aimlessly shuffle along.

The first stop was a small noodle shop. The tables still held half-finished bowls of noodles, but not a soul was in sight—not even in the kitchen. They’d probably run for it.

Lan Shiru surveyed the scene; there were plenty of sauces from before the acid rain, still safe to eat, so she gathered everything. Pots, pans, bowls—she didn’t leave a single thing behind, even clearing out the tables, chairs, and every bottle of drink on the shelves. The pantry held flour, dry noodles, and canned drinks, though the broth had spilled everywhere. The fridge was still running and stocked with frozen meats and other perishables. She took the entire fridge for good measure.

Turning back, she looked at the bare room, now just four walls standing. Maybe I went a little overboard, she thought. This could make people jealous… okay, next time, I’ll try to go easier.

“Alright, Jiang Xiang, let’s go! Next door sells breakfast; maybe they have some buns we can snack on.”

Jiang Xiang darted ahead, swiftly dispatching a wandering corpse near the breakfast shop. But the door was barred from the inside.

He glanced back at Lan Shiru, “Woof, woof.” Want me to claw it open?

Lan Shiru knocked on the door but heard no response. “Seems like there are still people alive in there. Let’s move on to the next place.”

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