Chapter 7: Sweeping the Building

Upon waking, his spiritual energy was fully restored.

He rubbed his eyes and walked into the kitchen, surveying the meager supplies left. Using a portable stove, he cooked a small bowl of rice, roughly the size of a fist, without adding any seasoning. He chewed mechanically, feeling the faint energy released as the starch broke down in his mouth.

He then broke the last half of a compressed biscuit into pieces and swallowed it with the last sips of water, struggling.

The food would last a few more days.

But water was down to less than six bottles.

Today, he had to find a water source!

Before setting out, Han Ning double-checked the gear in his backpack:

A set of lock-picking tools including a hammer and screwdriver, a bottle of water, a roll of bandages for first aid, painkillers, half a roll of tape, and some iron wire.

And... a spare kitchen knife gripped tightly in his hand.

All accounted for.

He approached the security door, slowly turned the handle, and opened it just a crack.

His eyes scanned the empty corridor, finally resting on the tightly closed door of Room 701 next door.

The previous days' rush had left no time for a thorough search of all the rooms on this floor.

Now that he was stronger, he planned to start searching for supplies on his own floor.

Without hesitation like the first time, Han Ning stepped out, stepping carefully through the puddles on the floor, heading toward 701.

The door was firmly shut, the lock intact.

He tried turning the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

Pressing his ear against the door panel, all was silent inside.

Han Ning didn’t attempt to forcibly break the lock. Instead, he placed his palm over the barely visible gap between the bottom of the security door and the floor.

A faint green light flickered, and a vine as thin as a fishing line slithered through the gap.

It moved like an extension of his fingers, creeping slowly up the door, finally reaching the lock, then tugging downwards.

With a click, the door opened.

A sharp, dusty smell hit him.

Shining his flashlight around, the living room was empty, furniture covered with thick white sheets—clearly no one had lived here for a long time.

He searched the room thoroughly but found no food.

Next was Room 702.

Just as he reached its door, a faint sound came through the thick door panel.

Not rain or wind.

Was it... voices?

It sounded like two people whispering urgently, their words broken and muffled.

Han Ning pressed his ear against the door, listening intently.

“Water... almost gone...”

“...Outside... too many monsters...”

“...Wait... a few more days.”

“Mom, I’m hungry!”

“Wah!”

Survivors!

Should he try to communicate and trade supplies?

After a moment’s hesitation, Han Ning turned away and headed toward the stairwell.

Listening to their conversation, they must also be short on supplies.

He didn’t want to become a robber breaking into their home.

After searching all the rooms on this floor, the results were disappointing.

But it wasn’t all bad news—at least today, he hadn’t seen any of those crocodile-lizard creatures.

Han Ning entered the stairwell, carefully observing the stairs up and down.

Once sure no crocodile-lizards lurked nearby, he chose to go upstairs.

The reason was simple: the higher the floor, the less likely to encounter those creatures.

The eighth floor’s corridor layout was the same as the seventh—four households per floor—but the water seemed shallower here.

The lighting was dimmer.

He first tried Room 801, pushing open the door—no one inside.

802 was the same.

At 803, his hand gripped the cold doorknob—it was locked.

Using the vine method again, he opened the door.

The moment it swung open, a strong odor mixed with decaying food hit him.

“The stench of rotten food.”

Han Ning wrinkled his nose but felt his heart leap with joy. He quickly slipped inside and gently closed the door behind him.

The room was pitch black, curtains drawn tight.

No monsters lunged at him, no fearful screams from survivors.

His flashlight beam swept the living room—it was a warmly decorated suite.

Scattered snack wrappers and empty drink bottles lay on the coffee table; a crumpled blanket lay on the sofa.

Enduring the stench, Han Ning cautiously stepped toward the kitchen.

There stood a high-end double-door refrigerator.

He opened it.

An indescribable mixed smell flooded out.

Inside were fruits overly ripe to the point of cloying sweetness, vegetables rotting with sour stench, and spoiled meat emitting a foul fishy odor.

Despite the smell, the fridge was full.

No, more precisely—it was packed to the brim.

In the fridge’s cold compartment, vegetables and fruits wrapped in plastic bags were piled high, many blackened, moldy, and oozing viscous juices.

Several apples were half rotten, a bag of cucumbers soft and melted inside their plastic.

A dozen unopened cartons of milk and yogurt squished into a corner, their containers bulging slightly.

Opening the freezer door revealed even more food varieties.

Packed tightly were various vacuum-sealed meats, frozen fish, dumplings, glutinous rice balls...

Thanks to the low temperature and good sealing, even with the power cut off, inside this enclosed space with a relatively low room temperature, some packages still had a thin layer of frost.

“Huh? What’s this?”

Han Ning glanced casually at one side of the fridge.

There was a small storage room inside the kitchen.

The door was open, and no foul odors came from within.

He raised his hand, shining his flashlight inside.

In the corner, neatly stacked were four unopened vacuum-sealed bags of rice.

Each bag was a standard 10 kilograms.

On the nearby shelves sat several sealed jars of dried fungi, black fungus, and daylilies.

There were also some unopened packets of dried noodles, a few boxes of self-heating rice meals, compressed biscuits, and even some canned goods—luncheon meat, fermented fish with black beans.

On the floor stood two plastic storage boxes; one contained unopened bottles of salt, sugar, soy sauce, and vinegar.

At the very back against the wall, half a wall’s height of bottled mineral water and various drinks were stacked.

“Wow…”

Even though Han Ning had prepared himself mentally, he couldn’t help but mutter a curse under his breath, his voice trembling with excitement.

Perhaps influenced by some unspoken event two years ago, the owner of this house was clearly a hoarder of supplies who had stockpiled a great deal here.

For some unknown reason, they never returned.

All these supplies were now his for the taking!

“I’m in luck. This time, I really am,” Han Ning said, a bit overwhelmed but quickly forcing himself to calm down.

There was no way to carry all this at once.

Since the owner hadn’t come back,

he might as well just move in.

That would save the trouble of hauling everything.

Higher floors were also safer.

He just needed to bring over the useful things from his own 703 apartment.

In theory, the layouts of 703 and 803 were similar, but his own place seemed smaller than this one.