People Hollowed Out Like Watermelons

"I don't know. She's just making things up."

Hearing this, the woman froze for a moment, then seemed to catch on. "Not just anyone can claim a connection to him. Don't make fools of yourselves later."

She figured these women were just social climbers, with no real ties to the second-in-command. She'd been a bit nervous at first, but now she was completely unafraid.

Seeing the woman's thoroughly arrogant face, Xie Huiying and the others couldn't help but laugh.

The laughter infuriated the woman, and she nearly lunged at them to throw a punch.

But no sooner had she stood up than Sister Chen slapped her again. "Psycho. You really think we're pushovers? See if you can even squeeze us. Never seen a beggar like you—even a dog knows to wag its tail when you feed it."

The slap sent the woman to the floor, but she didn't give up, lunging forward only to catch a kick.

Guo Li couldn't watch anymore. She stood up and stepped in front of the others. "Oh, why do this to yourself? What's it to us if your husband is a man? The second-in-command of District One really is a woman. I'd advise you not to be foolish—you might end up helping someone count money after they've cheated you."

The woman, clutching her kicked stomach, was beside herself with rage. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and pain stole her voice.

The people around had also gotten the full story: these two, relying on some supposed authority, had tried to extort benefits from the women, and when rebuffed, had tried to use power to bully them.

Seeing them fail and get beaten back, it was a textbook case of being both wicked and stupid.

No one felt sorry for the two fools.

The woman could only lie on the ground recovering for a while before dragging the still-unconscious man back to his seat.

Her belly, already gnawing with hunger, only ached worse after the beating.

She drifted in and out of blurred sleep, jolted awake by every bump in the road.

She'd once been with a man who claimed to be Xie Huiqing, the second-in-command of District One. He'd given her some information about the base and left ahead, telling her to find him at the base and just say his name.

She didn't believe it—or couldn't bear to believe she'd been lied to—so she could only hope that once she reached the quarantine, she'd be able to contact him.

Finally, they arrived at the quarantine zone. The man knocked out earlier also stirred awake. Their physiques were poor to begin with, so they could only lean on each other to get off the bus.

A security guard maintained order, telling everyone to board specially arranged vehicles to enter the base in an orderly fashion.

The bold characters on the base displayed that this was the District One camp—black-and-white walls, orderly lines, making people involuntarily shrink like quails.

Before they entered, the sentry posts had already been notified, so basically after quarantine ended, they could be picked up by their waiting families.

The people from the blue bus mostly had contacts within the city, and they were treated differently from those in other quarantine zones.

These arrangements had all been decided in advance. They were being treated politely now, but if they were found to be deceiving or sneaking through, the consequences would be far worse than a mere fall from grace.

Upon entering, everyone was forced to drink a green detection serum—a new special formulation to prevent monsters from slipping in.

If a monster drank it, it would reveal its true form; for ordinary people, it tasted fine and served as hydration.

The man, knocked into submission, stayed quiet beside the woman, not daring to stir up trouble.

After drinking the serum, the woman walked in the line, listening to the security guard recite the rules. Cold sweat dripped down her forehead, her heart pounding with growing panic.

It wasn't that she didn't trust herself, but an inexplicable dread seized her—what if, what if the man really had lied to her?

The inconsistencies she'd glossed over now circled endlessly in her mind. She even wanted to flee this place. Her inner voice was screaming, her hands and feet trembling, her pale lips the only thing maintaining a forced composure.

The security guard paused after leading them in. This quarantine zone had a large rest area where they were to wait for the administrator to distribute sterilized bedding and basic toiletries.

A security guard in dark blue uniform swept his gaze over the crowd, finally settling on a few middle-aged women.

His eyes darted back and forth between the aunts and the earlier woman, as if uncertain.

A girl with nothing better to do stepped forward and asked, "Hey, little bro, let me ask you something—is the second-in-command of District One a man or a woman?"

The security guard frowned. The girl before him was young, but her family connections were substantial—she was the younger sister of District Three's leader, returning after a long time outside. Not someone he could afford to offend.

Though reluctant, he answered patiently, "Sorry, Chief Xie's identity information isn't public. But just like you, she has an older sister."

The guard emphasized the last two words.

"Oh, I see. Can I see my sister when I get out?"

"Yes, though Chief Xie has gone out searching for family and should return a bit later."

He said a bit more, his hint clear enough. The girl grinned and walked away.

Leaving a crowd of onlookers behind, gleefully watching the woman's face turn ashen.

The woman trembled more violently, barely able to hear the outside noise anymore, while the man beside her muttered in confusion.

"What does it have to do with her? No matter how much she asks, she can't claim any connection..."

Everyone's eyes fell on them. Aunt Huang spread her hands. "No helping it now. Guo Li already warned her."

The situation was crystal clear. After collecting their supplies, everyone scattered like birds. Once in their quarantined areas, they couldn't freely come out again.

Xie Huiying gave the woman one last indifferent look, then followed the others back to their room.

They were in a large suite, each in separate rooms but able to meet up.

Sister Chen began worrying about Song Weishi again, feeling unsettled without her around.

She couldn't help but ask, "Sister Xie, what's the deal with Xiao Song? We said she was with us—why hasn't she shown up yet?"

Xie Huiying shook her head. "When we first got here, I'd already spoken with the security guard in charge of registration. But then he said Xiao Song's comprehensive score was too high, and she'd been recruited for special training, so she's quarantining in a different zone. Later, when we contact Huiqing, we can ask about her. At least she's here and won't run off. Don't worry."

Sister Chen sighed and could only nod, waiting for news.

The quarantine officially began.

Over on Song Weishi's side, they arrived at the quarantine zone by evening. The bus had brought them to a remote suburb, and along the way, Ke Shaoyi had grown chatty again, chattering endlessly. Song Weishi listened but rarely replied. Ke Shaoyi, however, was satisfied—she found Song's aloofness acceptable. As long as Song didn't find her annoying, it meant she had a great personality.

Song Weishi had no idea what Ke Shaoyi was thinking and simply walked forward. As soon as she got off the bus, she saw an endless expanse of sea.

This quarantine site was built on a cliff—a rather remote spot.

But the facilities weren't bad, as if converted from a prison. Surrounded by water on all sides, Song felt escaping would be extremely difficult.

The bus couldn't manage the narrow road, so they had to get off and walk a short distance. The bridge was flat, with sea breeze blowing and a brilliant sunset sky—a beautiful sight.

As they approached, sure enough, Song Weishi saw the bold characters: Huihai City Suo Harbor Prison.

Everyone who got off exclaimed in surprise, and even Ke Shaoyi grabbed Song's arm in shock.

She was a head taller than Song, and standing beside her felt like a windbreak.

"What's wrong?" Song asked, puzzled.

Ke Shaoyi let go, a bit embarrassed. "Hey, why were we sent here? This isn't just a quarantine zone—Suo Harbor Prison was converted into a training base. Looks like we're really going to be security guards."

Thank heavens—she was practically overjoyed, hauling two big bags of snacks as she dashed into the quarantine facility.

Seeing Ke Shaoyi's excitement, Song trailed behind, ambling inside.

The structure was clearly renovated: square and orderly, with several iron gates at the entrance. The old workshop had been turned into an indoor training room.

Blue-white walls carried a sense of age, and the steel-and-concrete walls looked thick.

It was a completely enclosed space; looking up, all you could see was a square patch of sky trapped within walls.

For a moment, it was hard to tell if you were here to do time or to quarantine.

Song took a careful look around the facility. She was assigned a small room: upon entering, there was a sink with a weak water flow, and a private bathroom beyond.

The shower was right next to the squat toilet, no separation between wet and dry, no hot water or towels, but the conditions were decent—far better than her days as a wild woman.

She opened the white cabinet beneath the mirror-sink, finding a few rolls of toilet paper and disposable toothbrushes.

Beyond that was her tiny room, with a metal-frame bed and mattress, only about 1.8 meters by 1 meter—barely enough to sleep on. There was a small lamp by the headboard; switched on, its warm yellow light filled the space.

The room was so small that a couple of steps took you from one end to the other, like a cage without windows—but Song Weishi felt a strong sense of security. Not having to rush anywhere felt wonderful.

So even in a room like this, her spirits were high.

Lights out was at 9 p.m. every day, much earlier than she was used to.

She tucked her backpack under the small table, which was beside the bed along with a little stool. There was no other furniture.

Song spread out the bedding she'd been given upon entry, feeling the space stuffy and hot, so she fanned herself with the fan Sister Chen had given her earlier.

When she'd first arrived, she'd also gotten a meal and a bottle of something green, like juice.

That bottle was for detecting monsters—they'd drunk it upon entry. Song Weishi thought it tasted pretty good.

Now she was looking forward to the quarantine facility's meal. She opened the white box: inside was a small lump of congealed red meat sauce, beneath it a clump of quinoa-purple rice, and two pre-boiled broccoli florets on the side.

Honestly, the food was already pretty good, better than what many on the road were eating. Following her no-waste principle, she quickly finished it off. As she relaxed, she felt hunger stirring again.

A monitoring camera outside could see the sink area. She drew the curtain for privacy, then pulled out her phone and scanned the room, confirming no cameras before pulling things from her space.

She took out a durian mille crepe, cut half of it, and brought out the meat she'd roasted and stored earlier, stuffing her mouth in big bites.

If she ate fast enough, the smells wouldn't escape.

Song Weishi also ate two big bowls of rice and a slice of watermelon, then cleaned up contentedly.

She took a shower afterward. The water flow was weak, but washing with cold water felt nice in this weather. Before long, sounds came through the wall—the insulation wasn't great, and she could hear faint rustling from next door.

With any louder noise, everything was audible.

Song finished washing and lay on the bed, even hearing the thumping of knocking on the wall from next door, plus a few cat meows.

She knew it was Ke Shaoyi next door. To be fair, the base was quite accommodating—allowing pets inside.

Of course, daily rations were fixed; the base wasn't responsible for pet food.

Ke Shaoyi had no complaints about that, grinning as she took her supplies and left.

Song Weishi thought of Jiang Qingrou she'd met in the snow, wondering how she was doing. If she came into quarantine, what would she do with her animals? These rooms couldn't even fit those two black-and-white apes; there was no place for them.

But that was a problem for later.

Song Weishi straightened her pillow and tried calling the System again, still no response. She sighed and opened today's mini cart.

Today's item refresh:

Deluxe Seafood Platter *1

Hot Cheese & Spicy Lobster Tacos *6/box

Floral Blueberries 2kg *1

Song Weishi sat bolt upright in bed, heart racing. "System, is that you?"

No voice answered, but the cart's bounty was on par with before. Song naturally assumed the System had returned.

But after her excitement faded, the silence persisted. The smile on her face disappeared, and she opened her personal panel—still gray, lifeless.

The System hadn't returned, so how to explain the cart's restored richness?

She couldn't help but think of another possibility: maybe the female lead was nearby, which was why the refreshed items had been worse?

She quickly suppressed that thought, because if the female lead were nearby, she'd likely have entered Huihai City at the same time as her.

Given her strength, she'd definitely have come to quarantine here too, but clearly she hadn't.

Song lay back down, poking idly at her panel. Amid the clamor of outside noise, she fell into a deep sleep.

She'd gone without sleep for a day, so though she fell fast, her biological clock dragged her awake in the middle of the night.

She lay in bed a while longer, but once her eyes opened, sleep was gone.

Outside, it was still dark. She sat by the bed, hearing a faint rustling—like a cat digging in sand, or something else. The noise grated on her ears.

She didn't realize when her hearing had become so acute. Pressing her ear to the wall, she listened, discovering it wasn't coming from the cat's side.

The "munch, munch" sound was unceasing. Song Weishi yawned and got up to check.

The dorm lights were already off. She grabbed her small flashlight and went to the door, peering out through the crack—utter darkness, not another soul in sight.

She didn't know if a guard was on duty. From the window, she slid her hand through the bars, waving it, to see what was going on outside.

But no sooner had her hand gone out than she felt a breath of warm air, like respiration, blow across her arm.

Startled, Song yanked her hand back.

The narrow bars scraped her hand red as she pulled it up quickly. Wincing, she shook it while her other hand grabbed the flashlight and clicked it off.

Then, from the darkness beyond, something drifted past. It stood quietly in the corridor, facing her door, breathing.

Song held her breath on instinct, frozen in place. At this hour, anything that didn't speak was definitely not something good.

If it were a night guard, they'd have called out by now. Song felt breathing over her head, like a strange vent, intermittent.

This thing was definitely much taller than her, or it wouldn't be like that.

Song pinched her nose, clutching the flashlight tightly. In those few seconds of reaction time, she'd already done her best.

The thing outside lost patience after lingering too long. Only when the breathing truly faded did Song dare to breathe slowly again.

She remembered that none of the people quarantined here were that tall.

Even Ke Shaoyi next door wasn't that tall.

A odd feeling crept into Song's heart. She quickly shut the window, confirmed the thing outside couldn't come in, and then started thinking about what to do.

First, the thing out there hadn't been detected by the security guards. In the darkness, she couldn't see it, couldn't determine what it was.

But one thing she was certain of was its poor eyesight—at least as blind as hers in this dark. She'd been standing right there, and it hadn't come in; sneaking around like that wasn't human behavior.

She thought of the pangolin monster she'd encountered in the snow. Could something like that have slipped into quarantine on the first day?

The serum the base had handed out had relaxed her guard, putting her in a false mindset, blindly trusting the authorities. So what if the base had seemed authoritative before? This was the apocalypse!

Those serums only meant there were no obvious monsters; they didn't guarantee her environment was absolutely safe.

Song Weishi thought for a few seconds. She wanted to contact Ke Shaoyi next door, to see what was going on.

But if she made noise rashly, who knew if the thing outside would come over.

She'd only luckily verified the thing's poor eyesight; its hearing was still a question.

Shouting through the wall to Ke Shaoyi wouldn't work, Song mused, rubbing her flashlight. Then a bold idea struck her.

The prison's switches had been modified to be quiet, meaning the people here made more noise just moving than the switches did. Song might as well carefully sneak out of her room and try.

Outside, she could hug the center of the hall with her flashlight and see what the hell was out there.

It couldn't be that this apocalypse had evolved into a world of ghosts and demons, a head floating in midair following her, right?

With that thought, Song rubbed the goosebumps her wild imagination had raised, and quietly cracked open her door.

Outside was silent, no sound. She was startled, suddenly realizing something odd—she remembered locking the door.

All rooms only had a small window that could be opened, and the doors were to be unlatched by security guards the next day, since the observation period after drinking the serum was one day.

But her door opened easily now. She'd forgotten that.

She shone the flashlight on her door's lock—it was indeed already open.

In fact, all the locks on this row of doors were open.

Any door would pull open from outside.

The security guard who'd been posted in the corridor was gone. No one was here.

Song saw some rooms' windows open—people had tried to air the place out. Ke Shaoyi, who kept a kitten, hadn't opened her window; only the exhaust fan hummed and whirred.

She glanced at the rooms with open windows and walked deeper into the corridor, quickly finding two adjacent windows with faint bloodstains.

Blood smears clung to the bars. The bars of two adjacent rooms looked squeezed and deformed, round in the middle—clearly something had forced its way through violently.

She peeked inside: the curtain blocking the view had blood on it.

An ominous feeling rose in her heart. Carefully, she eased the door open and stepped in, pulling a knife from her space.

With the knife, she lifted the curtain, and the flashlight beam fell on a corpse lying dead on the bed.

She'd seen this man during the day—a young man who'd sat in the front of the bus. Now he lay quietly on the bed, eyes closed, a huge hole in his chest, hollowed out completely.

His flesh had been scraped clean, like a watermelon emptied with a spoon.

At a glance, Song Weishi clamped her mouth shut, retreating from the room. She was careful not to make a sound. She didn't even need to check the other room to guess what lay inside.

She thought of the strange noise she'd heard earlier—that monster eating a human heart and chest away like jelly.

That thing had just stood before her. She needed to get back to her room fast, secure herself, then raise the alarm for everyone.

Song practically ran, wind whistling past her ears. In the flashlight's beam, she spotted something—a long neck-like appendage, like a human neck, hanging from above.

Song's heart nearly leapt from her throat. She swept the flashlight around wildly, running before the thing could spot her, trying to get back to her room.

Victory was within reach. Song finally stood before her door again—but it had locked itself. She pulled, but it wouldn't budge. The lock was hanging, and she was locked out of her own room.

At the same moment, a faint voice sounded behind her: "Are you looking for me?"