Reborn As A Doomsday Villainess
Chapter 203

Chapter 203: 203

The bus rumbled on, cutting through the dead veins of the city, surrounded on all sides by scorched trees and broken lampposts. Inside, silence reigned.

The 50 chosen survivors stared ahead blankly, unable or unwilling to speak. The air carried the raw scent of fear and guilt.

Lotus’s voice still buzzing in his head. It had been so long since the system had said anything that he’d nearly forgotten its presence. But now, it came back with the sharpness of a blade.

He rubbed at his eyes, his throat feeling dry. "You’re wrong, we’ll all find a way to help him somehow.." he whispered under his breath.

(No, Haoyu. They will not, they’ll leverage off him until he has nothing and start complaining when he doesn’t give them)

He stared ahead, to where Sun Zi Mo drove in near-absolute stillness, then glanced behind him to where Feng Yizhou sat, eyes half-lidded, arms folded. The man looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

Probably because he hadn’t.

Feng Yizhou wasn’t just the strongest among them, he was the spine holding this fragile group together. And now he’d been forced to split it in half.

Haoyu pressed a hand to his chest. "I should’ve done more."

(Saying that won’t change anything. Doing something might.)

He closed his eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath and opened the small clipboard tucked into the side of the seat.

Names. Inventory. Weapons. All accounted for. But none of it accounted for the heaviness in his gut.

Behind him, one of the children started crying. A soft, hiccuping sound muffled by her mother’s embrace. Haoyu turned but said nothing.

Feng Yizhou’s voice cut through the tension, low and even. "How far out are we?"

Sun Zi Mo glanced at the rearview mirror. "Thirty minutes, if the road stays clear."

Feng Yizhou nodded, it would take them about 10 hours, to get to zone 4 and that was if they didn’t stop for the night.

They were barely into the journey.

A few rows back, Luo Roulan sat stiffly, hands folded over her lap. Her eyes darted now and then to the windows, as though expecting a shadow to leap from the wreckage outside. Her younger brother was beside her, dozing against her shoulder, but she hadn’t moved a muscle in over twenty minutes.

Haoyu made his way down the narrow aisle, clipboard hugged to his chest. A few heads lifted, expecting something. But he could only offer a tired smile.

"Water rotation in one hour.." he said quietly. "We’ll have to manage until then."

No one objected. Some nodded. Most just stared.

As he passed one of the older men, Zhao Lan, who had a bad leg and a sharper tongue, the man muttered under his breath, "Shoulda let more of the fighters on. What’s the point of saving civvies if none of us can defend them?"

Haoyu stopped but didn’t turn.

"The point is," he said, his voice calm, "that they’re still alive. And that’s a damn miracle right now."

Zhao grunted, unconvinced, but didn’t push it.

Sun Zi Mo kept driving, hands steady on the wheel, his face unreadable. Every so often he adjusted the mirror to check the back. His expression never changed, but Haoyu could tell he was watching everyone.

They all were, in their own way. Even the ones pretending to sleep.

The city outside remained a bleak, unending smear of grey. Broken storefronts, rusted signs, a bus stop crushed under a fallen billboard. Trees wilted and blackened, as though the soil itself had rejected life. Once in a while, they passed an abandoned vehicle, doors ajar, glass shattered.

But no movement.

When Haoyu returned to his seat. Feng Yizhou hadn’t shifted an inch.

"We might have enough gas for eight hours," Sun Zi Mo said softly, leaning toward him. "We may need to detour if we find a safe stop to refill."

Yizhou didn’t open his eyes. "We won’t. Not around here. We stick to the route. Fuel will be added externally."

"What about if one of the kids needs—"

Yizhou looked at him then, and it was enough to make Haoyu fall silent.

There was no cruelty in the stare. Only a raw, aching clarity. A man who had made peace with the unbearable calculus of survival.

"They’ll be able to go about their business while the tank is getting filled up."

Haoyu nodded.

The hours ahead stretched long. And they would only get longer.

Beside them, the sound of a radio crackled faintly. Sun Zi Mo had one earbud in, listening to the emergency channel they had rigged together. Every now and then, static would spike, then settle again.

It was too early for much chatter. The others wouldn’t be within range yet.

Haoyu leaned back and let the bus lull him into half-alertness. He couldn’t sleep properly. But he could at least close his eyes for a while.

Fifteen minutes passed.

The child who had cried earlier had fallen asleep now, her tiny hand clenched in her mother’s jacket. A couple in the middle rows had quietly joined hands. Someone further back began a whispered prayer.

Then—a voice was heard.

It was soft, low and almost hesitant.

"Do you think... they’re okay? The ones who stayed?"

Feng Yizhou replied after a beat. "If they weren’t okay, we would have heard and they were not left behind, they’re on the path of their own journey as well."

Roulan’s voice wavered. "But what if the radios—"

"They’re fine.." Yizhou said.

Not a reassurance, but a command. She bit her lip and nodded.

Haoyu knew the silence wouldn’t hold forever. Not with fifty people crammed in a metal shell for ten hours.

The cracks would soon show.

Frustration. Fear. Hunger. This was just the beginning.

Just past the hour mark, Haoyu stood again.

"Water break," he called out gently.

He passed bottles down the rows, keeping a mental tally. Rationed. Controlled. They had to make it last.

When he got to Feng Yizhou, the man didn’t take one. Just gave a small shake of his head.

Haoyu left one anyway.

Sun Zi Mo tapped the dash lightly. "We’ll pass the old toll booths soon. Should be clear, but keep alert."

Haoyu nodded. "Copy."

[It’s a long journey. At least they made the roads to the next zone a waste land. You don’t have to worry about zombies or anything attacking you.]

Caocao said, and Yizhou only scoffed.

"Yeah so we can worry about dying in a different way. Thank you."

[".."]

[Ungrateful much. To think I even tried to think I even thought of cheering you up. You probably dont want to see Qingran.]

Feng Yizhou eyes widened as he sat up, whatever opportunity that would bring him to Qingran he would take it.

[I’m not saying I’m going to let you call you. Just reminding you that there are only 2 more ahead of you before you meet her. And if she decides to move to the second zone there’s a likely chance that you both will meet each other at the third zone.]

"Okay, if something like a firestorm is a challenge in the first zone then she’ll definitely move when it’s over"

[Yes]

Six hours later, the landscape had changed.

The thick decay of city rot had given way to the outskirts. Less ruin, more emptiness. The buildings grew smaller, sparse, most of them factories or half-finished developments long abandoned.

The sky was a dull ochre, not yet evening but past afternoon. The air still held the scent of scorched earth, but it was thinner now, like the world was holding its breath.

Sun Zi Mo leaned forward, pointing at the horizon. "That ridge—past it is the outer perimeter of Zone 4."

Haoyu stood up, stretching cramped muscles. "How far out?"

"Maybe ten miles."

A murmur of relief moved through the passengers.

Yizhou didn’t smile, but his eyes opened fully now. "Don’t relax yet. We don’t know what we’re up against yet."

The sun had begun to dip behind the skeletal remains of the outer city, casting long shadows over the desolate highway.

The land had flattened out, the buildings behind them now distant silhouettes.

Ahead, hills loomed low and brush-covered, blanketed in reddish light.

They were now only a few miles from the fourth zone point or what used to be one.

The convoy had pulled off the main road, parking under the partial shelter of a collapsed overpass.

The bridge above was fractured in the middle, but sturdy enough at the edges to provide some shade and visual cover. A rusted sign still hung crooked from one of the pylons:

"Zone Four - Humanitarian Corridor"

The words had been spray-painted over with black: "THERE’S NOTHING HUMAN HERE."

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