Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Breakthrough

They had hoped to reach Bruce’s house smoothly, lock the doors and windows, and wait for reinforcements. However, the commotion outside drew the neighborhood residents out, their curiosity getting the better of them as they stepped out to see what was happening.

"Go home! Get back inside!" Bruce shouted at the residents who were opening their doors or stepping out onto the street, but it was in vain. Driven by curiosity, they moved toward the main gate, peering out. Many walked straight toward Bruce and Shaqya as they approached the entrance. The pair tried in vain to stop them.

Outside, the "zombies" were locked behind the iron gate, clawing at the metal in futility. A man in gold-rimmed glasses leaned in curiously; he was startled by a hand reaching through the bars but managed to avoid being grabbed.

"Hey, hey, what’s going on here? Is it Halloween today?" The man tapped the flailing hands of the "zombies." "Trying to scare us?"

His bravado seemed to embolden the others, and several more men stepped forward to watch.

"Hey, are you looking for death? Get back!" Bruce lunged forward, trying to pull the man in glasses away. "Hey, let go, you brat!" the man retorted, clearly unappreciative.

"Everyone, stay calm... we’re telling the truth! It’s dangerous! Get home!" Shaqya joined in, trying to persuade the curious residents. But they were arrogant and paid no heed to the warnings.

Suddenly, the creatures outside the gate began to retch, black liquid pouring from their mouths and eyes. It looked less viscous than before. Then, the black liquid began to seep through the iron gate.

"Waaah! That’s disgusting!" A woman in the crowd shrieked, and the group instinctively recoiled. The man in glasses finally realized something was wrong, but the pool of black sludge moved with blinding speed, surrounding him and Bruce, who was still grappling with him.

"Danger!" Shaqya grabbed Bruce’s clothes and pulled him back with all her might, but the man was engulfed by the black water. Dozens of hand-like appendages sprouted from the sludge, clawing their way up his body.

"Urgh!? Aaaaaah!" The man screamed, but soon, hands formed from the black liquid covered his face, silencing him. The sludge began to surge into his mouth and nose. A wave of terror erupted through the crowd as they scrambled backward.

"Don't just stand there! Run home!" Shaqya shouted at the crowd, dragging Bruce back with her. But the crowd was too dense, and the black liquid, having consumed the man, began to spread toward the rest of them, moving faster and faster. Several more people who were too close were swallowed up.

The black liquid took control of a few more "zombies," seemingly enhancing their strength. Gelatinous tentacles sprouted from their bodies, ripping street lamps from the ground and swinging them at the fleeing crowd.

As more black liquid seeped into the compound, Bruce saw a little girl about to be engulfed. He lunged forward, pushing her into her parents' arms, but his own foot was caught by a hand reaching out from the sludge.

"Bruce! You...!?" Shaqya, pinned in the panicking crowd, couldn't reach him. Suddenly, Bruce was struck hard in the back and sent flying. A street lamp, swung by a tentacle, had slammed into him; by a stroke of luck, the impact knocked him free from the black sludge.

"Hurry!" Shaqya finally pushed through the crowd, reached the fallen Bruce, hoisted him onto her shoulders, and fled. Bruce’s back was severely injured, bleeding profusely, his clothes and skin torn by the broken lamp post, and his bones likely damaged by the blow. But there was no time to think about that.

Shaqya carried Bruce, struggling to keep pace with the fleeing crowd, but Bruce’s limping made it impossible to move quickly.

"Bruce, which way is your house?!" she asked. If they could reach his home, they might be safe for a while.

Bruce weakly pointed in a direction. "Straight ahead... Building 7..."

"Bear with it..." Shaqya said, and with a sudden heave, she hoisted him onto her back. She took a few breaths using a peculiar technique, then broke into a sprint.

"You...?" Bruce was stunned. The girl, barely 1.6 meters tall and seemingly not very strong, was carrying his 1.8-meter-tall frame and moving faster with every stride. From a trot to a full-blown run!

Behind them, the tentacle monsters hurled trash cans and benches at the scattering crowd, attempting to cut off their escape routes. It was only because Shaqya was carrying him that they managed to stay ahead. On the way, Bruce fished his keys from his pocket and handed them to her. Fortunately, his house was on the ground floor; Shaqya unlocked the door at a dead run, leaving Bruce bewildered by her strength.

She gently laid him face-down on the sofa. "Okay, do you have a first aid kit? Are your parents home?" She needed to treat his severe wounds immediately and began searching the living room. Bruce noticed that the girl wasn't even out of breath. She had sprinted hundreds of meters carrying his 160-pound frame! Perhaps... she really didn't need him to protect her.

"The kit... it’s in the cabinet at the corner of the second floor... the second drawer from the bottom..." The pain was intense, and he decided to focus on bandaging himself first.

"Alright, don't move..."

Bruce’s house was massive, three stories tall, yet it seemed he lived there all alone; it felt lonely. Shaqya wasn't gasping for air because she had used a breathing technique taught to her by Master Shi, who had trained her in martial arts. It was said to be a secret passed down through generations. Master Shi had told her it could enhance physical strength and allow one to channel internal energy.

She had used it during training to recover from exhaustion, but this was the first time she had applied it with such intensity. Even she was surprised; carrying a man of Bruce’s weight and speed, she felt no soreness or extreme fatigue. It was said that even Master Shi had only scratched the surface of this technique. She realized she should practice it more often.

After finding the medical kit, Shaqya began to dress his wounds. She asked about his parents.

"Oh, my parents... they’re always busy... as you can see, I’m usually the one watching the house."

As she disinfected and applied ointment, the pain began to subside, and Bruce started to open up. He had spent his entire middle school years this way. His parents were wealthy, but they were never around. Yet, he understood them; he said they were busy working for the grand cause of humanity’s future. Fortunately, they had been present during his early childhood, which fueled his pride and his steadfast commitment to guarding his home.

"For the future of humanity... huh..." Shaqya smiled bitterly. She, too, was a fighter for the future.

Bruce had been raised strictly, so he didn't have many friends, only Longsheng. He often teased Longsheng, but in reality, he cared for him more than anyone. When he realized Longsheng had a crush on Shaqya, he had been determined to help his best friend win her over. Longsheng had been sickly since childhood and was often bullied; Bruce was always the one to stand up for him. Perhaps it was this pride in his family, his sense of justice, and his hidden loneliness that gave him such a strong desire to protect those around him.

Shaqya said nothing, simply continuing to bandage him in silence.

"Qin Yun... you’re a good girl... beautiful, smart... and you can fight..." Bruce noted her skillful technique. "And you know first aid... what boy wouldn't admire a girl like that?"

Bruce sighed. "Anyway... that’s why I..."