Cheng Ye grabbed his backpack and pushed the door open to leave.
He thought his outfit, exposing only his eyes, was odd enough to stand out, but on the street, he was shocked to see a third of the passersby dressed similarly.
Did everyone know about the Stand-In Starfish?
Of course not.
According to Liu Bi last night, even frontline military police wouldn’t know the infection had spread until just before the outbreak. Information would be released in stages, only made public at the last moment when containment was deemed hopeless.
The current notice framed this as an emergency drill for the duty chief’s death.
Still, people had their own sense of things.
Whether an infected entity had slipped in or could spark a small infection tide was unknown.
You could trust the official word, but not entirely.
That’s why some chose full gear, adhering to the belief: better to assume it’s real than not.“Sir, under A-level epidemic status, we need to record your movements. Where are you headed?”
At the community gate, two Westerner military police stopped him.
“Work.”
Cheng Ye pulled out his badge from his pocket. The officers scanned it with their defense communicators, then handed it back respectfully.
“Thank you for your service to Happiness City. May God bless you!”
Cheng Ye nodded, taking it back, silently sighing inside.
Since Happiness City wasn’t resorting to violent suppression and maintained surface peace, they had some confidence in resolving the infection tide.
If a method to eliminate the infection source was developed within three days, the crisis could be largely defused.
Otherwise, the buffer zone could become an infected paradise, collapsing entirely.
On the way to North Station, Cheng Ye stuck close to the walls, avoiding crowds, careful not to let even his clothes brush against others.
At the bus stop, he spotted a lean figure wiping a vehicle, Master Tian, again.
“No water, and you’re still cleaning the bus?”
“No choice, it’s habit. No water doesn’t mean I can’t wipe it down.”
Master Tian smiled, then sniffed oddly. “Sir, are you… injured?”
“Yeah, sparring practice, bound to get a few bruises.”
“I’ve got a special liniment. Want to try it? Might work better than what you’re using.”
“Sure, thanks.”
Cheng Ye nodded, boarding the bus and taking a small bottle from Master Tian’s storage compartment.
Noticing his rubber gloves and arms wrapped in cloth scraps, Master Tian paused but quickly regained his composure.
Cheng Ye sat in the middle of the bus.
Opening the bottle, he found a viscous, dark green paste, like modern herbal ointments.
Since he’d chartered the bus, he didn’t hesitate, pulling down his pants to apply it to his thigh.
Master Tian glanced in the rearview mirror, clicking his tongue. “Sir, your body’s made of iron? Injured there and still walking?”
“Stop with the ‘sir’ and formalities. Call me Cheng Ye or Inspector Cheng.”
“Got it.”
Master Tian wasn’t fazed by Cheng Ye’s inspector status. “Inspector Cheng, apply this, and you’ll recover in about five days, but only if you avoid fighting.”
“Five days?”
Cheng Ye was stunned. Miao Yang said his injury would take at least ten days to heal.
“Roughly. The common stuff you used is too weak. Mine’s got several mutated crystal powders, it packs a punch.”
“Huh, I don’t feel it?”
Cheng Ye blinked, then unequipped Iron Body.
Instantly, a bone-chilling coolness seeped from the bruised area, painful and itchy, yet oddly satisfying, like scratching an itch. He nearly groaned.
Damn, that potent?
“In the wasteland, especially ruins or wilderness, you need this stuff. Injuries are trouble otherwise.”
“How much?”
“With crystal powders, it’s not cheap. 80 Happiness Coins!”
You’re bold.
Cheng Ye grumbled inwardly but swiftly pulled out coins, asking, “Got more? I’ll buy them all!”
Before a big fight, he needed supplies, weapons and gear were one thing, consumables another.
“I’ve got one more at home. Shelf life’s six months. If you need it, I’ll prepare and deliver.”
“Get me two… no, three bottles.”
“Deal! I’m here every day this month. Just come pick them up.”
Master Tian grinned. “You know, third-rate assassins like me aren’t much, but we’re good at surviving.”
Cheng Ye didn’t respond, instead opening his panel.
[Master Tian, 21%, searchable range: intelligence]
“Such low compatibility, something’s off.”
He mused, deciding to save a search chance for Master Tian after surviving this infection tide.
Miao Yang only had standard liniment, but a bus driver had potent medicine?
Third-rate assassin excuse, my foot.
Cheng Ye didn’t buy it. In the wasteland, you couldn’t underestimate any passerby; this guy might be a hidden legend.
“Inspector Cheng.”
“Yeah?”
“Still able to run?” Master Tian asked abruptly, eyes fixed on the road.
Cheng Ye paused, staying silent, gently shaking his head.
The rearview mirror caught his movement. Master Tian’s lips curved into a bitter smile, saying no more.
After applying the ointment, Cheng Ye leaned against the window, despite the chartered bus fare, no one boarded for 2 coins.
“Inspector Cheng, we’re here!”
“Thanks.”
Cheng Ye equipped Iron Body, stepping off under Master Tian’s admiring yet complex gaze, walking as if uninjured.
As it was the early morning shift, he avoided the hassle of handing over to a Westerner inspector.
From a distance, a guard saw him approach and preemptively opened the isolation gate.
“Inspector Cheng.” A tall guard greeted respectfully.
Cheng Ye nodded, scanning the wall guards. This time, no one deliberately avoided his gaze, though most looked uneasy, keeping their distance.
Passing through the gate into Area E, Cheng Ye slowed, edging along the wall to the reporting room window.
Peering inside, as expected, Jamie was gone.
A red-haired youth sat inside, idly playing Tetris on his defense communicator.
Sensing a shadow at the window, the youth looked up, ready to snap, but seeing Cheng Ye’s grin as he lifted his mask, he jolted, standing ramrod straight.
“Ins-Inspector Cheng!”
“Where’s Jamie?”
“He… he…” The redhead, terrified, sweated profusely, tongue-tied.
“Jamie’s unwell. I’ve sent him home.”
Raul emerged from the nearby archive room, smiling. “Inspector Cheng, rest assured, as long as you’re on duty at North Station, you’ll never see Jamie again.”
“Is that so?”
Cheng Ye muttered, glancing at the redhead in the archive room.
The youth stumbled back two steps, nearly tripping over a chair.
“Him?”
“Jamie may have said something he shouldn’t, scaring him. I’ll handle your check-in.”
Raul entered the reporting room, swiping Cheng Ye’s badge to clock him in.
“Thanks.”
Cheng Ye’s lips twitched. One day on the job, and he’d already earned a fierce reputation?
But scanning the other workstations, his sharp memory noted that only about 20% of the people from two days ago remained; the rest were new.
“My father cleaned up Area E. Those who didn’t meet standards were sent back.”
Raul explained, “It’s unrelated to you, don’t worry.”
“Oh.”
Cheng Ye nodded, taking his badge and dismissing the matter.
Privileged second-generation types lounging at the checkpoint were fine, but targeting inspectors crossed a line.
Even as a trainee inspector, he wasn’t someone they could toy with, sending them back was good, saved him further trouble.
Heading to Inspection Area A, the sky cleared, and air still damp.
The crowd waiting to leave surged, nearly twenty large vans lined up in the waiting area like a silver-gray snake, rear doors open, tarps covering small industrial goods.
A hoarding frenzy hit the buffer zone, and nearby settlements weren’t far behind.
A sudden storm had heightened survival crises, everyone desperate for basic supplies.
Trading goods now meant premium prices and often bartering for rare items scavengers usually held onto.
For risk-takers with lives on the line, danger was the least of their worries compared to profit margins and urgent demand.
“Inspector Cheng, want to check?”
Some youths verifying cargo lists tensed as he approached.
Nearby Westerner drivers exchanged glances. Since when did these fearless second-generation types fear an Easterner inspector like this?
“No need, you handle it.”
Thinking they might carry Stand-In Starfish to nearby settlements, Cheng Ye could only pray silently.
A few steps further, at the isolation passage, a burly man blocked his path.
His wild blond hair gleamed in the sun, a heavy silver chain clinking around his neck. Twisted devil and angel tattoos adorned his exposed forearms, reminiscent of the Beatles vibe from Cheng Ye’s memory.
“Inspector Cheng, hello. I’m Arthur Amir.”
The man introduced himself. “Inspector Liu briefed me, but I was on duty two days ago and couldn’t greet you.”
A familiar name. Cheng Ye recalled instantly.
“You’re… Machine Gunner Arthur?”
“That’s me. The machine gun post is on a weekly rotation, and I’m on the same week as you.”
Arthur grinned. “Rest assured, as long as I’m here, even if the checkpoint’s sky falls, I won’t let any infected or person reach you before I’m down!”
“Is that so?”
Arthur’s honest demeanor clashed with his Beatles style.
Cheng Ye smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, dismissing the promise.
In the wasteland, trust in people was the last thing to rely on. Freshly transmigrated, he might’ve bought Arthur’s excuse of being too busy to meet.
But two days later, no call on the defense communicator? Did Arthur think he was an idiot?
“This guy’s sharp. Looks like news of my meeting with Dario yesterday spread. Didn’t expect Arthur to know too.”
“No surprise, though. Guards climb to machine gunner, just below inspectors. Without some cunning and skill, they’d be ousted fast.”
Thoughts racing, Cheng Ye kept his expression neutral, smiling. “Arthur, past favors belong to the past. I won’t let you take risks.”
“Don’t worry, if I call on you, it’ll be for a chance to climb higher, not anything dangerous.”
At that, Arthur instinctively offered polite assurances.
Despite being their first meeting, they chatted familiarly for several minutes, as if old friends.
“Alright, get to your post. It’s getting late.”
“Yes, sir!”
Dismissed by Cheng Ye, Arthur retreated respectfully.
But at the wall’s corner, his expression shifted, a fleeting heaviness in his eyes.
Interesting. No wonder this Inspector Cheng, as a trainee, flipped the situation in two days, not only avoiding Westerner targeting but even extending an olive branch.
Such tactics, such depth…
“Climb higher? Could he mean making me an inspector someday?”
Watching Cheng Ye’s back fade, Arthur licked his lips, turned decisively, and headed to the watchtower.
He had to admit, for a moment, he was tempted.