On the way back, the two of them walked in silence.

Yu Hongfei killed two lone zombies along the way and handed them over to Lin Chu for dissection.

Taking advantage of Ma Yan’s spatial cover, Lin Chu quietly stored the bodies in her own space.

It wasn’t until they had crossed the road between the two zones that Lin Chu suddenly spoke.

“Why do you think we were sent to the Endless Apocalypse?”

Faced with such a sudden question, Yu Hongfei was momentarily stunned before scratching his head.

“Well… maybe just bad luck.”

Bad luck?

Lin Chu glanced sideways at him after hearing that excuse, then scoffed inwardly.

Bad luck, huh? Yeah, it sure was bad luck.

But what Ma Yan had said earlier kept bothering her.

Why was his first reaction to assume she had “committed a crime” too?

“Yu Hongfei, what kind of person were you in your original world?”

Embarrassed by the question, Yu Hongfei chuckled awkwardly. “Me? Just a regular soldier. Got a few medals here and there.”

“Did you… ever commit a crime?”

Yu Hongfei shook his head rapidly. “No way. If we did, we’d be kicked out of the force.”

Right. Someone who instinctively steps forward even in the Endless Apocalypse—what crime could he possibly have committed?

Lin Chu could tell he was being sincere and likely wasn’t lying, which meant her lead had gone cold again.

She sighed inwardly.

For now, the top priority was survival. Everything else could wait.

When they reached Building 6, Lin Chu pointed out the location of her shelter.

“If you kill any zombies, come find me here. We’ll trade like we agreed before.”

Yu Hongfei nodded readily.

Seeing that he didn’t bring it up, Lin Chu took the initiative.
“That space…”

“You’re the one who took care of Ma Yan’s group. You saved my life. That space is yours—let’s pretend I never saw it.”

He paused, then added, “Don’t worry. I won’t say a word to anyone.”

Soldiers value their word, and Lin Chu believed he would keep his promise.

They said their goodbyes at the entrance, and only after watching Yu Hongfei walk away did Lin Chu head back to her shelter.

As she passed Zheng Ziyu’s shelter—

Creaaak— The door opened.

Zheng Ziyu peeked her head out from behind the security door. Seeing Lin Chu alone, she stepped out.

Before leaving, Lin Chu had left a note at Zheng Ziyu’s door, asking her to cover up her footprints.

Zheng Ziyu had used her peephole to watch Lin Chu tail the outsiders and did exactly as she was told. She hadn’t dared to follow her or mess anything up—just stayed inside and waited.

As expected, those people had come by to check for footprints, searched the area thoroughly without finding anyone, then stormed off in frustration.

But when they left and Lin Chu still hadn’t returned, Zheng Ziyu began to fear the worst.

Another woman charging ahead, while she hid away in her shelter—it made her feel useless and ashamed. She had just decided to grab a weapon and go looking when she heard movement outside.

Peeking out the peephole, she saw Lin Chu returning and immediately opened the door.

“I erased your footprints like you asked,” she said, but then noticed the blood on Lin Chu.

“Lin Chu, are you hurt?”

Lin Chu looked down at herself. Ma Yan’s group had been severely injured, and cleaning up afterward had gotten her soaked in their blood. Her hands were stained from handling Ma Yan’s bracelet.

No wonder Zheng Ziyu misunderstood—she looked seriously wounded.

Lin Chu waved it off. “It’s not my blood. I’m fine, don’t worry.”

Zheng Ziyu thought she was just putting on a brave face, but not wanting to offend her, she didn’t insist. Instead, she ran back inside, grabbed a bottle of iodine, and shoved it into Lin Chu’s hand.

“This is all I have. Use it to disinfect your wounds, just in case. I found it at a workstation in this building. It still works.”

For Lin Chu, who had an entire box of iodine stored away, it wasn’t rare. But for others, it was precious.

She rolled up her sleeves to show her uninjured skin and, after much persuasion, finally convinced Zheng Ziyu to take the iodine back.

“They won’t come looking for us again.”

Hearing that, and seeing all the blood on Lin Chu, Zheng Ziyu’s gaze changed.

Her wide, deer-like eyes were now full of admiration and awe.

She really wanted to ask how Lin Chu had done it, but knew everyone had their secrets—especially in times like these. Boundaries mattered.

If the other person didn’t say, she wouldn’t ask.

So instead, she brought up the zombie dissection deal.

“Is our agreement from before still valid?”

“Of course,” Lin Chu replied. After a pause, she added, “But I’m too exhausted. I’ll need to rest for a day. Let’s continue the day after tomorrow.”

Zheng Ziyu had no objections to that whatsoever.

They said goodbye and returned to their respective shelters.

Lin Chu really was exhausted. Though she maintained regular exercise, running and strength training, these past few days had been non-stop—dissections, counter-surveillance, tailing suspects—it had drained her mentally and physically.

What Ma Yan told her in the end had also left her feeling vaguely unsettled.

She didn’t even have the energy to check what loot was in Ma Yan’s space. After cleaning herself up, she collapsed onto the bed and immediately fell asleep.

She slept for a long time.

When she finally woke up, it was already 3 PM.

She had slept for twelve hours straight.

Her stomach rumbled with hunger. Rubbing her messy hair, Lin Chu walked to the bathroom, washed up, then sat cross-legged on the floor, using a nearby box as a makeshift table. From her space, she retrieved a steaming bowl of snail noodles.

The food exchanged through the system always came out freshly cooked.

Since time was frozen in her space, food placed there stayed hot when she took it out.

She slurped the noodles and drank a few sips of broth, letting out a contented sigh.

After eating, Lin Chu looked around her tiny little living area.

A one-meter-wide bed. A row of shelves. A small window. Half a meter of walking space between the bed and the shelves.

She was sitting in that narrow aisle, using a box as a table.

It felt both fortunate and a little heartbreaking.

Fortunate because, while many people’s shelters had been destroyed, she had managed to activate her security door and create a completely safe refuge—a place where she could sleep peacefully and eat without worry.

Heartbreaking because… the space was so small.

She didn’t even have room to set up the gaming chair and desk she’d scavenged from the office building.

“System, is there any way to expand my shelter’s area?”