Apocalyptic Era: Starting from picking up a Bishoujo
Chapter 60 - 57 Doomsday Girls Disappearance 2

Chapter 60: 57 Doomsday Girls Disappearance 2

GPS stands for "Global Positioning System" in English, which theoretically can cover most of the Earth’s surface and near-Earth space, or at least that’s what my online research suggested.

However, now I couldn’t receive the GPS signal from Mazao’s device.

How should I interpret this situation? Had Mazao gone to an area with poor signal, or was there a problem with the device?

I should first rule out the battery life of the bracelet. The red GPS bracelet on Mazao’s left wrist had a standby time of three months, and it was fully charged when I put it on her; secondly, it shouldn’t be water damage from her bathing, as I had specifically confirmed that the bracelet was highly water-resistant.

Maybe she had realized there was a problem with the bracelet and immediately destroyed it... Was that really the case? Given the gentle way she spoke to me when we parted, it was hard to imagine she realized my true intentions towards her.

All the preparations had failed, and I was truly tasting the feeling of helplessness.

No, I couldn’t give up yet!

I had to struggle until the last moment.

With that thought, I transformed into the Fire Element form again, conjuring a large fireball and launching it into the sky.

The fireball exploded in mid-air, transforming into thousands of "fireflies", scattering in all directions like bursts of fireworks,

Although Mazao had vanished from my sight, she might still be in Saltwater City. Next, I would conduct a carpet search of Saltwater City until I found her. It was a very foolish and inefficient method, but it was all I could do at the moment.

In my Fire Element form, the more flames I condensed in my body, the stronger my physical performance became—strength, speed, perception... Even consciousness processing speed could be considered as "physical performance" and enhanced.

Therefore, even though it was strictly not "simultaneous and precise processing", I could still process the thousands of images from the "fireflies". Maybe it was limited by my spirit structure which still tended to be human; my consciousness still had focus issues.

Ordinary people without superpowers would also understand my difficulty. Suppose someone took out three different colored papers, each with a line of text, and showed them to another person, the latter could instantly tell the papers’ colors. But to discern what was written on them would require examining them one by one.

I could only process the images from different locations hastily, filtering out parts where someone "appeared in clothes or a height similar to Mazao", then focus on distinguishing them one by one.

Moreover, Saltwater City was a city after all. Although thousands of "fireflies" seemed like a lot, conducting a carpet search of the entire city was extremely challenging. What’s more problematic was that a city was not only made up of outdoor areas, but also complex indoor areas, which were even harder to search.

I searched until the evening, then into the night as Yinyue hung in the sky, my mind becoming incredibly numb, yet I still hadn’t found any clues.

At the same time, I kept an eye on the GPS signal, because Mazao might have simply moved to an area with poor signal... But the GPS signal never appeared; relying on it was indeed futile.

I could only temporarily revert from the Fire Element form to give my stiff consciousness some time to recuperate.

Looking around, it was already deep night. The chirping of cicadas nearby and the colorful lights of nightlife illuminated the streets. The deserted building ruin felt like a different world. Unreasonably, I felt a chill in the breeze and turned to leave the building.

Passing through the corridor downstairs, I saw the room where I first met Mazao. The blood she left behind was now an indistinguishable black stain. Next to it, a lonely scaffold lay toppled over, probably knocked down by her accidentally, making a noise that brought me to her side.

On the way home, I passed through the crowd and casually bought two spicy roasted pig trotters, then entered my neighborhood and opened the door to my home.

The lights were off. Mazao had a bad habit—if I hadn’t turned on the lights when I went out, she wouldn’t turn them on after dark either, instead leaving the room pitch black.

The food in the fridge, which I told her she could eat anytime, she wouldn’t take by herself but needed me to hand it to her before she would eat. If I bought food only for her, she wouldn’t accept it. It had to be either one for me as well or shared between us.

Initially, she was also reluctant to turn on the TV by herself, until I explained that she could learn about the functioning of society in this era through TV programs. Then she would watch some when alone, never entertainment shows, only political ones. Even then, she didn’t watch for long—most of the time, she read books and magazines in my home, always with a serious expression.

Only during meals would she unconsciously reveal a childlike, happy smile, treating the ordinary food I cooked as if it were a delicacy and cherishing every bite. Seeing her enjoy the food so much always made the mealtime seem to sparkle, and I wished time would slow down.

Without a word, I pressed the light switch in the entryway. Mazao always used to stay in the living room. As the darkness was dispelled by the bright light, it felt as if she would appear under the illumination. She would then jump off the sofa and run towards me in small steps. I would hand her one of the spicy roasted pig trotters, and she would grudgingly accept it while complaining that I was treating her like a child.

But that scene didn’t occur. The living room was empty; no one was sitting on the sofa, and a stark emptiness filled the space.

I slowly entered the living room, threw the plastic bag full of food onto the dining table, and then sat down on the sofa, zoning out just like Mazao used to do. I didn’t specifically reminisce or ponder anything, I just wanted to clear my mind for a while.

Yet, not even a minute had passed when I couldn’t sit still any longer and glanced at the bedroom. Of course, Mazao couldn’t possibly be there; I was just checking. After that, I paced around the house, memories of living together with her surfacing bit by bit.

A moment later, I found myself in front of the refrigerator. There was an old backpack on top of it, hidden close to the wall. If one didn’t already know, it would be impossible to find it there. Inside the old backpack were some items, including the tattered hospital gown that Mazao used to wear, and a real gun loaded with four bullets.

I went back to the sofa and opened the old backpack. The hospital gown and the gun were properly placed inside. I took out the hospital gown and spread it out.

Unlike its initially blood-stained appearance, this hospital gown had been slightly washed. I hadn’t washed it; it must have been Mazao who secretly scrubbed it clean the first time she bathed in my house, but obviously, she hadn’t managed to fully cleanse it. I didn’t send it for further cleaning later but just used my superpower to dry and sterilize it before storing it away.

Would I ever meet her again?

What would become of me in the future? Would I return to the days when encountering the supernatural was impossible?

Was she doing alright out there? She didn’t understand mobile payments, had no money, no cellphone, no identification; what would she do when hungry, and where would she spend the night?

With an unresolved feeling, I put the hospital gown back in the old backpack.

It was then I noticed something was off.

The old backpack contained not just the hospital gown and the gun, but also other secret items, one of which was Agent Kong’s charred fingertip, which I had placed inside a glass jar at the bottom of the main compartment of the backpack.

The glass jar was still lying inside the backpack, but true to its name, the jar was now empty.

There was nothing inside!

I immediately took out the empty jar and thoroughly searched the old backpack, even turning it upside down and shaking it, but the charred fingertip was nowhere to be found.

Impossible. I remembered very clearly, the charred fingertip was definitely placed in the jar, and the jar was tightly sealed, leaving no way for it to fall out. Furthermore, I had never taken the charred fingertip out again after that, nor had I taken the old backpack down from the top of the refrigerator. The charred fingertip couldn’t just disappear on its own.

Unless someone had taken it!

Who?

In the past few days, other than me, only Mazao had been in this house. Since I hadn’t taken it out, it could only have been Mazao.

It couldn’t have been a thief; otherwise, more valuable items would be missing, and I hadn’t noticed any signs of such during my earlier random wandering around the house.

Even if a thief had entered, found the old backpack on top of the refrigerator, discovered the real gun inside it, and yet only taken the charred fingertip which seemed meaningless to a common person... and even placed the glass jar back exactly where it was, could this be possible?

Mazao had found the old backpack, and I could only blame myself for not hiding it deeply enough. But now the question was... why did she take the charred fingertip?

Had she recognized that the charred fingertip was extraordinarily significant?

But why did she leave the gun behind, especially since she wanted it back not long ago... Wait, she had said that even if she left, her influence on me would continue for several more days... Did she intend to leave the weapon for me?

Could I use the clue of the charred fingertip to trace her subsequent whereabouts?

I kept thinking and analyzing, staring at the empty jar.

Perhaps due to the strain of previously searching thousands of "Fireflies" extensively, and now the high-speed operation of my mind, I soon felt weary and unknowingly fell asleep.

Afterward, I had a dream.

A dream shrouded in gray mist...