This was a low mountain. When the meteorite rain fell, the entire peak had been smashed full of craters. The trees caught fire, burning the surface soil into a layer of hardened slag. In just the few short days since the meteorite rain ended, waist-high weeds had already sprouted again.

The vitality of plants after the apocalypse was astonishing. Some had taken root inside solid stone.

At the base of the mountain lay an unfinished highway. The excavated Tunnel bored straight into the mountain's belly. Most of it had collapsed, but a considerable space remained.

"Finally back."

Four men and one woman returned to the Tunnel entrance.

The man carrying a cement bag on his back broke into a smile. "We're safe!"

The sight of the Tunnel gave them a sense of security. Their voices grew louder.

"I'm starving. When are we skinning the Monkey?" another man asked eagerly.

"Who isn't starving? The corn only ripened one cob. Lately we've been boiling soup with rotten flour-it all reeks!" the woman said.

The man with the cement bag said, "Boil water first. Scald the Monkey and pluck its fur directly. Monkey skin is edible too. Skinning it would be wasteful!"

"Just scald it alive," said a man who hadn't spoken yet, laughing. "Killing it first will make it bleed out, and blood is food too."

"Right, we have to conserve," the woman agreed.

The four men had been higher-ups in the Tunnel construction company.

On the night the meteorite rain fell, the workers were on leave at the rest area a kilometer away.

These four, seeking thrills, had driven women from a KTV into the Tunnel to fool around.

Because of that, they escaped an unprecedented disaster.

As the group walked into the Tunnel, a thin figure immediately emerged. "Did you find anything to eat?"

"Find your fucking ass," the man with the cement bag cursed at the woman approaching them. "All you know is eating. Couldn't you ask if we ran into danger?"

This woman was just as filthy as the rest. After the apocalypse, drinking water was rationed carefully-but she still kept her legs washed white, wearing torn pantyhose.

None of the four men spared her a glance. They were all waiting to eat meat.

Someone went to gather wood and lit a fire.

Someone else took out the inner pot of a rice cooker and walked to a nearby puddle-their source of drinking water.

Water seeped down from the Tunnel ceiling, dripping steadily, accumulating about seven or eight liters of clear water. The man carefully filled the pot halfway, returned to the fire, and set it to boil.

The man with the cement bag finally set down his load. With a thud, a bloody Little Monkey tumbled to the ground, completely motionless.

The pantyhose woman's eyes went wide. "What kind of animal is that? We have meat?"

None of the men answered. The woman who had gone out scavenging said, "You didn't do much, but you won't be shorted. You can have the Monkey tail."

"What meat is there on a Monkey tail?"

The pantyhose woman immediately protested. "How did I not do anything? Didn't I stay behind to watch Old Qin? Manager Wei said someone had to stay!"

"I dug through zombie piles looking for food. Why should you get to sit here enjoying yourself?" the scavenging woman shot back.

Both women had worked at the same KTV before the apocalypse. Afterward, they constantly fought for favor. They both understood that survival meant staying useful to these men.

But usefulness meant beauty. So each viewed the other as a rival.

"Old Qin didn't run, did he?"

The man who had carried the Monkey back-Manager Wei, as the two women called him-cut off their argument.

The pantyhose woman immediately put on a smile. "He didn't run, Brother Wei. Whatever you assign me, I'll handle it properly."

"Bring him out. He can help pluck the Monkey's fur," Manager Wei ordered.

Soon, a thin, weak man was dragged out by a rope. Around forty years old, hands bound behind his back, he walked with a feeble gait.

"What's the point of keeping this trash?" the pantyhose woman complained.

"Keeping him costs nothing. A little urine to drink each day, maggots from rotten meat to eat. He can still do chores for us, and provide some entertainment when we're bored."

Manager Wei smiled. "And if zombies ever break in, we can use him to draw their attention."

The other men burst out laughing.

The man called Old Qin wore a numb expression. When he saw that the Little Monkey on the ground was still breathing, a flash of pity crossed his eyes.

He and this Monkey shared the same fate-both were meat on someone else's chopping block.

Before the apocalypse, Old Qin had been the cook on the construction site. Because he had to wake early to make breakfast for the workers, he lived inside the Tunnel.

When the meteorite rain fell, the unfinished Tunnel became the best shelter.

He controlled a large stock of stored food. Naturally, Manager Wei and the others-who had never given him a second glance before-came looking for him.

At first, everyone assumed this was just an ordinary natural disaster. Once it passed, everything would return to normal.

Back then, they were still talking and laughing. Manager Wei promised Old Qin a raise once the rescue teams arrived.

So Old Qin spent every day trying to cook good meals to please them.

Then, a few days ago, the meteorite rain stopped-and everything changed.

All the stored ingredients rotted overnight.

Only a few bags of flour held out. Though moldy and reeking, they could still be choked down after cooking.

When the food supply collapsed, Manager Wei ventured outside and discovered the zombie outbreak.

After that, they imprisoned Old Qin. Every day, they gave him only urine to drink.

Old Qin knew that he and this Monkey were the same. Falling into the hands of these animals meant death, sooner or later.

"Brother Wei, look how obedient I've been. Later, could you give me a Monkey leg? No-a Monkey head would be fine too."

The pantyhose woman stepped forward, stopping in front of Manager Wei. She lifted her filthy skirt. She wasn't wearing anything underneath.

She slowly raised one leg, rubbing her thigh against his zipper. "Brother Wei, if a girl starves too thin, she won't look good anymore."

"Get lost!" Manager Wei shoved her away. "I haven't had a full meal in days. Where would I find the energy for that?"

The smile froze on the pantyhose woman's face. A trace of hatred flickered in her eyes.

The other woman laughed loudly.

"Is the water boiling?" Manager Wei turned to ask another man.

"Steam's rising. Almost ready." The man stared at the pot over the fire, licking his cracked lips.

"The water used to scald the Monkey can be filtered and drunk afterward. Don't waste it," Manager Wei ordered.

It was also a warning-the man tending the fire was not to sneak a drink.

Manager Wei walked deeper into the Tunnel. "Leave Old Qin and Yu Donghai here to pluck the fur. The rest of you, follow me to check on that corn."

Yu Donghai was the man boiling water. He nodded. The others followed Manager Wei into the depths.

Manager Wei had held the highest position among them before the apocalypse, and he still commanded respect afterward. Mainly because he handled things fairly and never hoarded for himself.

Bringing everyone to see the corn was his way of showing he wouldn't pocket anything privately. Everyone could watch each other.

Two days ago, they had gone deeper into the collapsed section of the Tunnel, searching for more water sources. By accident, they discovered a cornstalk that had suddenly sprouted there.

The stalk stood five stories tall. It bore exactly forty-nine cobs.

This morning, before heading out to scavenge, they found one cob had ripened. They broke it off and shared it on the road. Each person ate only a few kernels, yet felt half-full. Their energy surged.

They had already realized this was a Mutant Crop-something born after the apocalypse. Its nutritional content far exceeded anything from before.

So after Manager Wei returned and arranged the Monkey meat, his first priority was checking on the corn.

...

At that moment, Zhao Yin had already spotted the Tunnel at the base of that low mountain...