A few minutes later, the full view of the Hospital came into sight.
Looking down from high above, zombies from the surrounding streets were continuously converging here; the density was so great it made one's scalp tingle.
"Look over there."
Herta suddenly pointed at the open-air parking lot behind the Hospital, her voice carrying a rare trace of emotional fluctuation.
Following the direction of her finger, Lord Zhimu revealed a look of surprise.
In the middle of the dense throng of zombies lay a colossal object—
A Spacecraft with a sci-fi design and a completely silver-gray paint job.
Half of the fuselage was deeply embedded in the ground, its surface severely damaged, with a large amount of special metal debris scattered around.
Despite the heavy damage, its manufacturing standard was still evident, looking completely out of place in this abandoned city of the old era.
"I didn't expect it to be a Spacecraft from your Azure Star. Pity it crashed and is now scrap metal."
"Can we go down and take a look?" Herta asked.
"Of course."
Lord Zhimu controlled the Staff to dive, heading straight for the parking lot where the zombie crowd was densest.
The zombies on the ground sensed the scent of a living person and instinctively raised their arms.
However, in the next second, a snow-white frost ring centered on Lord Zhimu instantly expanded to the entire parking lot.
In the blink of an eye, thousands of zombies turned into ice sculptures in various poses; even the dust in the air was frozen.
The Staff came to a steady stop, and the two landed.
Herta walked quickly toward the crashed ship, her palm pressing against the cold outer shell.
The hatch had been blown off during the crash. Lord Zhimu followed leisurely behind and poked his head in to take a look.
The cockpit was a mess, and the console was still sparking with electricity. Curiously, there were no corpses inside.
"Where are the people?"
He turned around, his gaze searching the area before landing on a spot not far away.
There was a skeleton picked clean of flesh, and next to it was a uniform torn to shreds; it was likely the pilot.
"How many people were in each ship for this mission of yours?" Lord Zhimu asked casually, withdrawing his gaze.
Herta stood in the shadow of the ship's wreckage, answering with her back to him.
"Four."
"Two scientists responsible for data collection, and two pilots."
"Then what about your three teammates? Dead?"
"...Probably."
"What a shame. It would have been great if they were alive; that way, I could have truly indulged in a feast for the first time in a while."
Lord Zhimu's tone carried a hint of regret.
As he spoke, he suddenly looked at Herta and asked with a faint smile:
"There's only one corpse here, which means the other three are likely still alive. I want to eat them; do you have any objections?"
Herta turned around, her small face devoid of any extra expression.
"No objections."
Lord Zhimu narrowed his eyes.
She said she had no objections, but he felt her current mood wasn't quite right; there was an air of dishonesty about her.
Could it be that she had friends among them?
"Hey, kid."
Lord Zhimu suddenly leaned in close.
"Your mood is a bit off. You're hiding something; tell me about it."
Herta instinctively took half a step back, her eyes flickering.
"I was just thinking about what this ship encountered before it crashed."
"Is that so?"
Lord Zhimu clearly didn't believe her. His gaze swept back and forth between the wreckage and Herta, and he suddenly thought of an overlooked key point.
"Since you don't want to talk about that, I won't ask. Let's try something simpler: how did your ship crash? You've never mentioned it."
The air froze for a few seconds.
A certain emotion surged in Herta's purple eyes, a complexity that shouldn't belong to someone her age.
She chose not to answer, instead averting Lord Zhimu's gaze.
"Regarding this matter... please allow me to keep it to myself for now."
"Now is not the time to discuss this. If you really can send me back to Azure Star, you will find out."
Lord Zhimu raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.
It was clearly a crash with a story behind it.
He had previously speculated whether it was the work of Virtual Substance Lifeforms hostile to humans, but now it seemed there were other hidden details.
Curiosity aside, he wasn't the type to pry relentlessly, at least not with his own Reserve Food. He had that much patience.
"Fine."
Lord Zhimu withdrew the curiosity from his face and returned to his lazy demeanor.
"Everyone has their little secrets. Since I'll find out sooner or later, I won't ask."
He turned and walked toward the Hospital building, waving his hand lightly with his back to Herta.
"Let's go find that unlucky protagonist's hiding spot. If we're any later and the ice here melts, it won't smell very good."
Herta's slightly tense shoulders relaxed a bit.
She took one last deep look at the damaged ship, then quickly followed Lord Zhimu.
Returning to the Hospital building was a relatively smooth process.
Lord Zhimu put away his Staff and followed behind Herta. Not even the scent of old disinfectant remained in the air; it was mostly the stench of decay.
This kind of smell was absolute torture for the sense of smell.
"It's hard to imagine a Hospital being designed like a maze. Weren't they afraid patients would get lost? No wonder those zombies are just walking in circles in the hallways."
Lord Zhimu complained casually while using wind to blow away the spiderwebs floating in front of him with a look of disdain.
Just as they rounded the corner of the Surgical Building, a series of dense roars and scratching sounds reached their ears.
The end of the distant corridor was packed with zombies, piled layer upon layer against a door, frantically charging at it.
"Whoa, quite the scene."
Lord Zhimu stopped in his tracks, a look of amusement appearing on his face as if watching a show.
In this dead, silent city, there weren't many things that could make zombies so excited or even persistent, other than the flesh and blood of a living person.
Coupled with the Spacecraft that had just crashed in the parking lot...
Lord Zhimu's meaningful gaze suddenly landed on Herta.
"As I expected, some of your fellow countrymen aren't having bad luck either. At least, like you, they didn't die immediately after the crash."
He tilted his chin toward the precarious room ahead.
"The ones blocked inside are likely survivors from that ship. What do you say? Do you want me to save them?"
Herta's reaction was surprisingly calm, her eyes reflecting an unfathomable indifference.
"I'm inclined to take a detour. The choice is yours."
She paused and added another sentence.
"You are the one in control. I have no right to make decisions for you, nor do I have the standing to ask you to spend your energy on others for my sake."
Lord Zhimu was stunned for a moment.
That answer was interesting.
He had thought little Herta would tug at his sleeve and beg him to save them, and that her claim of not caring if he ate them was just her being stubborn.
After all, back outside, she had specifically asked him to check on the ship's condition.
"Unexpected..."
Lord Zhimu showed an intrigued expression.
"Fine then. Since you've said so, let's go. I was too lazy to care about whether others live or die anyway."
"From the sounds of it, there are two men and an old woman. They'd taste terrible; I don't even have the interest to take a bite."
Hearing this, Herta was just about to take the detour when she suddenly heard Lord Zhimu's impatient voice.
"Get out of the way."
A purple lightning bolt thicker than a water bucket erupted from Lord Zhimu's fingertip.
Boom!
The narrow corridor was filled with a blindingly bright light.
The zombies, possessed only by an endless desire to feed, were as fragile as thin paper before the terrifying magical attack.
Flesh carbonized instantly, bones shattered into dust, and even the walls on both sides of the corridor were scorched black.
When the bright light dissipated, the crowded and noisy corridor had become empty.
Only smoldering embers remained on the floor, and the air was filled with a nauseating smell of burning and ozone.
The zombies left no intact corpses; they had all been physically transcended into black ash.
"Forget the detour; it's a waste of my time."
...
Regarding some readers' confusion about the characterization, here is a brief explanation of Old Qi's current situation:
Remembrance of both lives are temporarily sealed; he won't remember unless he meets an acquaintance. There is foreshadowing for this, and Herta has it too. Why it's like this will be explained later.
The rest shouldn't be spoiled.