Apocalypse Star House Hoarding

Chapter 206



Chapter 206

In the video, volcanic ash surged over 2,000 meters into the sky, while lava streams poured down, turning the surrounding area for kilometers into blackened charcoal. Gray ash floated midair like a blizzard of feathers.

Fortunately, the region had no inhabitants to begin with. Two fissures had already appeared during the first Red Lotus disaster, deterring any further population settlement. As a result, the area was an uninhabited zone. Although the volcanic eruption was terrifying, it caused no casualties.

However, this was merely the beginning—and only within Huaguo’s borders. The planet, vast and dotted with dormant, extinct, and active volcanoes, presented far greater threats.

Even though most volcanoes remained silent in the following two weeks, humanity, after enduring disaster after disaster, could no longer dismiss such events as coincidences. The reactivation of dormant volcanoes, some quiet for decades, centuries, or even millennia, was a grim omen.

Disasters forced everyone to grow. Instead of lamenting when calamity struck, humanity had to face challenges head-on.

Previously strained relations between resource-scarce nations began to mend. If the predicted catastrophes became reality, the planet would spiral into rapid decline. To survive, humanity had to unite, sharing technology, information, and research.

Outdoor temperatures between 40°C and 70°C had persisted for nearly a month. While the heat hadn’t risen further, it also hadn’t abated. The extreme temperatures caused widespread droughts, shortages of water, electricity, and fuel, and relentless exploitation of resources. People couldn’t endure long hours outdoors, and protective gear like air-conditioned suits was always in short supply.

As a result, people adjusted to nocturnal schedules, working at night and resting during the day. Refuge shelters without adequate cooling or underground facilities had to relocate to better-equipped ones, straining local resources even further.

While headquarters expedited fortress renovations, they urged nearby shelters to consolidate into the fortress while deploying drones en masse to deliver supplies. However, drones carrying essentials like food and water were often shot down by rebel Subordinate groups. Once destroyed, these drones were effectively useless.

The rebel Subordinates, living in even harsher conditions than Naturals and deprived of aid from headquarters, resorted to looting as their sole survival strategy. Unlike Naturals, Subordinates were denied reproductive rights at birth, so they cared little about the future. For them, only the present mattered—living freely and indulging in life, no matter how dire the environment, until death claimed them. Across the planet, more and more Subordinates broke their chains of oppression and joined the rebellion. These groups grew stronger daily. Rebellion brought conflict, and conflict inevitably led to bloodshed and deaths.

Sometimes, Natural forces prevailed. Other times, the Subordinates triumphed. Videos related to Subordinates rarely made it onto official news channels, but the rebel groups posted their own footage online—some showing mass executions of Subordinates, others displaying their victories over Natural troops.

Though such videos were eventually taken down, people always saw them, exacerbating tensions between Naturals and Subordinates. Even within the headquarters fortress, relations between the two groups became increasingly strained.

That day, Xi Yuan was teaching in the training room when a student’s parent stormed in, exchanged a few angry words, and then started throwing punches.

At first, Xi Yuan focused on defense. He was a Subordinate, and the other party was a Natural, so he didn’t want to escalate matters, fearing it might trouble Yu Xi.

But the more he restrained himself, the more aggressive the parent became, eventually picking up a nearby stick and aiming for Xi Yuan’s head.

Trained personally by Yu Xi, Xi Yuan had excellent reflexes and physical fitness. When the blow targeted his vital point, he instinctively countered, kicking the parent away with a single strike.

By the time Yu Xi received the report, the situation had spiraled. The parent lodged a formal complaint against Xi Yuan with the training center, accusing him of seducing a student’s mother and assaulting a student’s father.

Yu Xi: ???

“I didn’t! I don’t even remember what the student’s mother looks like!” For the first time since his “birth” at eighteen, Xi Yuan felt utterly wronged and unable to defend himself.

Just because he was a companion-type Subordinate, they thought they could slander him with such accusations?

While dodging the attacks earlier, he’d seen the disdain in the parent’s eyes, as if looking at something filthy and inferior. Though they’d never met before and the accusations were baseless, the parent had already condemned him solely because he was a companion-type Subordinate.

The parent even claimed that Xi Yuan teaching combat skills was just an excuse to use physical contact to seduce female students.

Yet no matter how others misunderstood or maligned him, he only cared about Yu Xi’s opinion.

“I’ve been working diligently every day—I didn’t do what he said!” He couldn’t hide his anxiety as he looked at Yu Xi, who had remained silent throughout. “Yu Xi, you believe me, right? Yu Xi… are you mad at me?”

Yu Xi didn’t respond until they were back in her room. Only then did she turn to him and say, “Sit down.”

Obediently, Xi Yuan sat down, but his unease grew. Judging by her expression, was she truly angry?

When Yu Xi returned from the bathroom, she pressed a cool, damp towel against Xi Yuan’s forehead, and he realized she was treating his wounds.

“Remember, if something like this happens again, defend yourself immediately. As long as you act with a clear conscience, you have nothing to fear. Don’t bother about whether someone is a Subordinate or a Natural. In this world as it is now, what’s the difference?

You have flesh, blood, and your own thoughts, just like anyone else. Besides, you’re working and supporting yourself—this is a right granted to you by the state. You have every right to resist unfair treatment.” As she spoke, she swiftly disinfected the scrapes on his body.

She was angry—not at Xi Yuan but at the ignorance of certain people. It reminded her of the time Yinyin was bullied and injured, and now Xi Yuan faced the same prejudice.

The outside world was already in chaos, yet some people, safely within the fortress, with their families unharmed and plenty of food and water, still wasted their time and energy on petty matters.

The extreme heat had already triggered mutations officially named “Red Lotus Aberration.” There was no cure at the current stage, whether for those considered infection carriers or those fully infected.

Once a patient completed their mutation and regained consciousness, they would instinctively infect the nearest, physically strongest person. The spores embedded in their blood and flesh fragments thrived solely on the nourishment of living tissue, growing rapidly. Even if surgically removed, they would regrow, and each regrowth consumed significant nutrients from the host’s body.

Whether treated or not, the result was death—either from the infection or from the procedures meant to combat it.

The cells of the Red Lotus soft tissue bore no resemblance to any organism native to this planet. Current technology couldn’t determine their patterns, and the damage was irreversible, akin to a zombie infection.

In the fortress’s early days, panic surged when high-fever patients hadn’t yet been fully screened. People stayed locked in their rooms, refusing to work. Those crammed into shared dormitories of ten or more were on constant high alert, taking turns sleeping with their families.

But now, just one month later, the heat remained, volcanoes erupted frequently, and earthquakes and tsunamis ravaged the planet.

A glance out the fortress windows revealed cracked earth, withered trees, and the bleached bones of dead animals. Among them wandered the infected, some appearing normal but carrying the infection, while others, fully mutated, bore grotesque, blood-red growths on their limbs and faces, their minds long gone.

These infected roamed the desolate landscape like zombies. If they approached the fortress walls, monitoring soldiers would eliminate them.

In such a world, how could anyone have the energy to dwell on petty conflicts? Did they really think the fortress offered complete safety?

Yu Xi closed the first aid kit. Seeing Xi Yuan still staring at her, she sighed softly, “Don’t worry. I’m here. I believe you.”

For some reason, when others insulted him, calling him disgusting, shameless, or accusing him of seduction, Xi Yuan hadn’t cried. Even when he was beaten like garbage, he hadn’t thought of crying.

But now, with her simple words, he felt a lump in his throat, his eyes stinging with tears he could barely hold back.

Xi Yuan fought hard to suppress them. He was no longer the freshly minted Subordinate straight out of the factory. After training at the Subordinate school and facing countless disasters, he had grown stronger every day.

He vowed to grow even stronger until one day, he could truly stand beside her, shoulder to shoulder, without feeling ashamed of his Subordinate origins.

While ordinary people quarreled over the identities of Naturals and Subordinates, the disasters predicted by governments unfolded as feared.

In the early hours of one morning, monitoring devices across the planet sounded alarms simultaneously. Volcanoes erupted one after another—not just a few or a dozen, but hundreds—and the number continued to rise.

That day, nearly everyone felt the planet tremble and heard the deafening roars of the eruptions.

People woke, turned to the internet and news, and sought footage of the events. Some, unable to evacuate, faced nearby eruptions, praying their basements wouldn’t collapse and that the lava would stop before reaching their hiding spots.

Others, caught mid-evacuation, were horrified by the fiery explosions of lava in the night sky. Superheated molten rock rained down like bombs, smashing jeeps and incinerating evacuees into ash in an instant.

In the oceans, underwater volcanic eruptions triggered massive tsunamis, swallowing coastal lands. Polluted seawater killed vast quantities of marine life.

A surge of strong electromagnetic radiation disrupted communications and electronic equipment. Many drones, overwhelmed by interference, lost their ability to transmit footage, maintain flight paths, or avoid obstacles, ultimately succumbing to the ash-laden skies.

For three days and nights, the planet roared with volcanic fury, transitioning only slowly to quieter effusive eruptions.

Even during the day, the skies remained dark. In regions close to the volcanoes, repeated eruptions turned daytime into a blackened night where one could barely see a hand in front of their face.

Satellite imagery shocked global leaders. Red bursts of lava illuminated vast areas, leaving behind zones of utter desolation. The already drought-stricken, heat-scorched lands were now charred and lifeless.

Thick volcanic ash veiled the skies, obscuring satellite views.

The predicted disaster had come true—faster and more unpredictably than anyone had anticipated. The eruptions followed no natural patterns, leaving the planet scarred and battered.

Though the fortress headquarters was built in the mountains, the nearest dormant volcano was over 100 kilometers away. However, even that volcano erupted, obliterating a large nearby refugee base. From the fortress, the fiery explosion could be seen lighting up the night sky.

Fortunately, two of the base’s four massive high-altitude airships managed to launch before the eruption. Despite tight deadlines, limited manpower, and the constraints of underground construction, their proximity to the headquarters ensured better support than most other regions, especially in terms of resources like buoyant wood.

Ultimately, nearly two-thirds of the people from that base managed to escape. Similar scenarios occurred at shelters across Huaguo. Headquarters continued extracting buoyant wood and providing support to other areas.

However, many shelters with insufficient capabilities were no match for the devastating lava and volcanic ash. Their fragile underground structures, like paper, crumbled under the force, consumed and invaded amidst the anguished cries of humanity, extinguishing everything in their path.

The sky was shrouded in dark clouds. Although it was midday, not a ray of sunlight was visible.

It was the sixth day since the planet-wide volcanic eruptions. Outside temperatures had already dropped to around 20 to 30 degrees Celsius, akin to autumn-summer weather. However, Yu Xi suspected that the volcanic dust in the atmosphere would cause temperatures to plummet further.

In the past few days, anyone venturing outside without protective gear had been attacked by an unidentified virus.

According to research teams, the air outside was no longer suitable for human respiration.

During the earlier heatwave disasters, there was a chance of infection with the Red Lotus Aberration. But now, the situation had escalated. Even those previously unaffected by the razor-like ice shards would inevitably become infected after spending time in the outside air.

The manifestations of this infection varied:

Some developed symptoms similar to the earlier “blood bubble” cases, with their bodies rotting and suffering unbearable pain.Others lost their sanity as their internal organs slowly corroded, leading to death.Some remained in a state of high fever and coma.Others experienced severe skin mutations, with grotesque growths of flesh appearing all over their bodies.In short, infection was a death sentence, accompanied by excruciating suffering.

For the families of the infected, it was a psychological torment. Eventually, every family, without exception, opted to administer euthanasia injections to their loved ones.

Yu Xi withdrew her gaze from the glass window beside her bed and returned her focus to the notebook in her hand.

On the pages, she had recently written:

Fourth Disaster: Subordinate Rebellion (?)Fifth Disaster: Heatwaves and InfectionsSixth Disaster: Volcanic Eruptions and Toxic DustSeventh Disaster: ?Even with the planet in its current state, there seemed to be one more disaster yet to unfold.

But was there really just one left?

Was the Subordinate rebellion even part of the Seven Disasters?

As she furrowed her brows in thought, someone knocked on her door.

Opening it, she found a small figure standing outside—it was Yinyin.

The little girl’s dark eyes lit up as soon as she saw Yu Xi, filled with both attachment and joy.

After the last incident, Yu Xi had used her connections to have Yinyin’s family relocated to a cleaner two-bedroom unit on the 32nd floor of Zone G, near Xi Yuan’s residence. The space was more than enough for the family of three.

With no other residents in the unit, Yinyin no longer had to visit the children’s activity room when her parents were at work. She could safely stay in their apartment alone.

Although Yinyin’s father initially hesitated, Yinyin had hugged Yu Xi tightly before he could refuse, silently showing her desire to stay in Zone G and never return to their previous situation.

Perhaps due to their proximity, Yinyin now visited Yu Xi almost daily. She would come prepared with a small backpack containing water and snacks. Quiet and well-behaved, she would sit in a corner of the room, reading books she brought along.

If Yu Xi needed to leave, Yinyin would promptly pack her things and return to her own room without causing any trouble.

Each time, Yinyin would bring something for Yu Xi—a lollipop, a small bag of snacks. If Yu Xi refused, Yinyin would look up at her with determined eyes until she gave in.

Looking at Yinyin often reminded Yu Xi of another girl who used to cling to her, one who once said: “Mom protects the world, and I’ll protect my mom.”

It hadn’t been long since then, but they were now separated by time and space, likely never to meet again.

Perhaps that’s why the memories surfaced more frequently these days.

“Big Sister, today is Lunar New Year’s Eve. My family made braised meat with greens and rice, and we have delicious juice. Can you come to my house for dinner?”

Yu Xi paused, realizing that the planet’s time and calendar differed from her original world. Here, New Year typically fell in mid-March.

So today was Lunar New Year’s Eve.

She gently patted Yinyin’s soft hair, setting aside her thoughts about disasters and the apocalypse. “How about this—you go back and tell your parents to bring the food here, and we’ll all have dinner in my room. Besides the rice and greens, we’ll grill some meat together. I grabbed a lot of good meat at the supermarket this morning.”

Yinyin’s eyes sparkled even brighter, as if recalling a fond memory. “Grilled meat? Okay! It’s Lunar New Year’s Eve; let’s eat grilled meat together!”


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