Inside the armored vehicle.
The low roar of the engine was muffled by the thick armor, leaving only a dull hum.
Andrea tightly gripped her sister's hand, feeling Amy's palm sweating.
They sat on a long metal bench, facing five fully armed Soldiers.
Black combat uniforms, full-face helmets, bulletproof vests, and those cold M4 rifles—though the muzzles were pointed at the floor, they could be raised to aim at anyone at any moment.
Andrea suddenly felt a pang of regret.
She had been too impulsive.
After hearing just a few words from that man in the suit and seeing that video of Atlanta, she had dragged her sister along and stepped forward.
What if it really was a trap?
What if T-Dog was right?
What if they were being sold—
"Hey."
A voice interrupted her wandering thoughts.
Andrea looked up and saw the female Soldier opposite her had removed her helmet.
She had short, dark brown hair and a resolute but not fierce face. She looked to be in her early thirties, with a Soldier's sharpness in her eyes, but at this moment, they held a friendly smile.
"Don't be nervous."
The female Soldier said, "Everyone is like this the first time they ride in one of these. I'm Sandra."
Andrea blinked and managed a smile: "Andrea, and this is my sister, Amy."
"Hi."
Amy gave a small, quiet greeting.
"You're sisters?"
Sandra looked at them: "You look a lot alike."
"A lot of people say that."
Andrea relaxed slightly: "Are you... really from the Umbrella Corporation?"
"Yes."
Sandra nodded: "Joined a week ago."
"A week ago?"
Amy's eyes widened in surprise: "Then what did you do before that?"
"National Guard, retired for three years."
Sandra leaned back: "I was sleeping at home the day it broke out. I woke up to find two of those things downstairs eating my neighbor. I hid for three days, ran out of water, had no choice but to run out, and then I met the BOSS."
"BOSS?"
"The one who was talking to you just now."
Sandra pointed toward the driver's cabin: "Wu Fan, we all call him BOSS."
Andrea hesitated for a moment before asking the question she was most worried about: "That base... does it really exist? Are there really researchers studying a vaccine?"
Sandra looked at her with a serious gaze: "It's real. The CDC building—you must have heard of it? We're right there. There are over a dozen doctors inside, studying that virus every day. I've seen them dissect Walkers with my own eyes."
Andrea and Amy exchanged a look.
The CDC.
That was indeed a real place.
"And..."
Sandra added: "The conditions at the base are much better than that quarry of yours. There's electricity, water, hot showers. The food might be canned and compressed rations, but at least you can eat your fill, and you don't have to worry about being bitten in your sleep."
Actually, there were fresh ingredients available, but Wu Fan only arranged for the researchers on the first floor of the Hive to eat them; the security personnel were temporarily assigned collected canned food.
Amy's eyes lit up: "Hot showers?"
"Yes, ten minutes per person per day. It's limited, but it's enough."
Amy grabbed her sister's arm: "Sis, we made the right choice!"
Andrea also breathed a sigh of relief, but a trace of wariness remained in her heart—she still needed to see it for herself.
"What's the deal with the three-day quarantine?"
She asked.
Sandra nodded: "Standard procedure. Anyone coming in from the outside has to be quarantined for three days for observation and blood tests. This is a rule set by the BOSS. Over at the quarry, if someone got bitten, would you know?"
Andrea thought for a moment and shook her head: "Not necessarily. Sometimes the person who got bitten doesn't even know themselves, or they hide it and don't say anything."
"So that's the logic."
Sandra said: "Three days, room and board provided, nothing to do—just think of it as a vacation. If there are no symptoms after three days, you officially start your job."
Amy whispered: "That sounds pretty good... I haven't had a good night's sleep in so long."
Andrea held her sister's hand, feeling her relax.
Maybe this impulse really was the right move.
The armored vehicle continued on.
Half an hour later, it slowed down.
"Prepare to disembark."
Sandra put her helmet back on: "We're here."
The doors opened, and sunlight flooded in.
Andrea and Amy followed the Soldiers out of the vehicle and stood on the concrete ground.
They looked up and saw the grayish-white building—the CDC.
Four stories tall, square, with several antennas sticking up from the roof.
It was surrounded by barbed wire. There were some bullet holes and bloodstains on the walls, but overall it was in good condition.
The rolling shutter door was closed, but a small side door was open, with two armed guards standing at the entrance.
"It really is the CDC..."
Amy murmured.
Wu Fan walked over from the front and nodded to them: "Welcome.
Before you go in, there's a rule I need to make clear to you."
Andrea perked up and listened intently.
"Anyone coming in from the outside must undergo three days of quarantine observation."
Wu Fan pointed toward the second floor: "There are isolation rooms up there, one per person. Food will be delivered every day, and someone will come to do blood tests. After three days, if there are no issues, you can officially start work."
"Blood tests?"
Amy was a little nervous.
"Just a small vial."
Wu Fan said: "It's to test for virus antibodies. It's not a bad thing."
Andrea thought for a moment and nodded: "Understood."
"Also..."
Wu Fan added: "During quarantine, you cannot leave your room or visit each other. Cooperate with the inspections and don't cause trouble. After three days, as long as you're not infected, you'll be free."
Amy muttered softly: "Room and board provided for doing nothing... just like a vacation."
Wu Fan glanced at her, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly: "Exactly. Think of it that way."
He waved his hand, and two researchers came over to lead the sisters into the building.
Wu Fan stood in place, and just as he was about to turn around, a voice came from behind:
"BOSS."
He turned and saw Dr. Abraham Green walking quickly toward him.
The Old Professor wasn't wearing his white coat today; instead, he wore an old sweater, and his expression was somewhat urgent.
"What is it, Dr. Green?"
Abraham walked up to him, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke: "Wu, I know my request might be a bit much, but I hope... I hope you can do me a favor."
"Speak."
"My daughter."
Abraham's voice was a bit raspy: "She's a student at the University of Georgia, studying bioengineering. On the day of the outbreak, I couldn't reach her. The phone wouldn't go through, and she didn't reply to my texts. I don't know if she's alive or dead, but..."
He took a deep breath and looked at Wu Fan: "If she's still alive, if there are still survivors at the university, I want to ask you to send a team to find her. I know it's dangerous, I know we're short-handed, but she's my only family left. My wife passed away ten years ago. It's just her... only her."
Wu Fan was silent for a few seconds.
University of Georgia.
It was hundreds of kilometers away from Atlanta.
He wasn't familiar with the road conditions, and there was no telling how many Walkers or dangerous survivors were along the way.
He really was short on manpower.
Five security personnel who had only been trained for a week and hadn't yet gone out on an independent mission.
Twelve researchers, all mental laborers, none of whom could fight.
But if he refused...
He looked into Abraham's eyes.
Those cloudy old eyes were full of pleading and hope.
"I mean, if..."
Abraham lowered his head: "If the university has already fallen and there are no survivors, then abandon the search... at least I'll know I tried my best."
Wu Fan patted his shoulder: "Doctor, go back and rest for now. Let me think of a way."
Abraham nodded and turned to leave.
Wu Fan stood there watching his back and sighed.
He opened the system panel.
[Current Points: 3520]
[Points required to unlock Hive Level 2: 5000]
[Remaining: 1480]
He was still quite a few points short of unlocking the next level.
But if he organized a long-distance search and rescue, the fuel, ammunition, and resource consumption would all cost points.
He needed more points.
Wu Fan closed the panel and walked toward the armored vehicle.
Ten minutes later, the armored vehicle drove out of the CDC once again.
This time there were only three people—Wu Fan was driving, Sandra was on the roof with a sniper rifle, and Marcus was in the passenger seat learning how to operate it.
"BOSS, where are we going?"
Marcus asked.
"Sweeping."
Wu Fan stared ahead: "Look for large groups of Walkers and take them out."
The armored vehicle drove slowly through the streets of the small town in King County.
The surrounding scenes were shocking—overturned cars, shattered glass, dried bloodstains.
Occasionally, a Walker could be seen wandering, but they were all sporadic, in groups of three or five.
On the roof, Sandra lay prone at the shooting position, her eye pressed against the scope.
The AWM sniper rifle lay across her, the barrel swaying slightly.
"BOSS..."
Her voice came through the headset: "I think you should give me a bottle of wine to pass the time. These targets aren't a challenge at all."
Wu Fan rolled his eyes: "A challenge? Like the kind of challenge where you were being chased so miserably when you first met me?"
"That was an accident."
Sandra grumbled.
"Focus on your work. If you want to drink, wait until we're back at the base."
Wu Fan got in the car and sat in the passenger seat as an observer while instructing Marcus: "See that intersection ahead? Turn right. Yes, slow down, don't rush. The armored vehicle is heavy and has a large turning radius. Turn the wheel early."
Marcus gripped the steering wheel nervously, his forehead sweating: "Okay, BOSS, I've got it."
"You'll have to drive more in the future."
Wu Fan said: "I'm the boss. I can't lead the team personally every time. You guys need to learn to complete missions independently."
"I-I'll try..."
Before he could finish his sentence, Marcus suddenly pointed out the windshield: "BOSS, there seems to be someone ahead?"
Wu Fan followed his finger.
By the roadside, next to an overturned SUV, two people were waving their hands frantically.
A middle-aged Black man, wearing a plaid shirt, looked extremely anxious.
Standing next to him was a Black boy, about twelve or thirteen years old, thin and small, clutching the man's shirt hem with a terrified look in his eyes.
"Stop the car."
Wu Fan said.
Marcus stepped on the brakes, and the armored vehicle came to a steady stop.
"Sandra, prepare to disembark and check it out."
"Copy that."
A slight mechanical sound came from the roof—Sandra slid down from the shooting position and switched to her MP5 submachine gun.
The door opened, and Sandra jumped out first, pointing her muzzle at the father and son while quickly scanning the surroundings—no other threats.
"Hands up!"
She shouted.
The Black man immediately raised both hands, and the boy followed suit, raising his small hands with a practiced motion that was heartbreaking to see.
"Don't shoot! We're alive! We haven't been bitten!"
The man shouted, his voice trembling.
Wu Fan got out of the car and stood behind Sandra, sizing up the two people.
The man was around forty, with a face full of stubble and some dust on his clothes, but no bloodstains.
The boy was skin and bones, his large eyes staring in terror at the guns.