Chapter 140-I Clean Up Garbage in a Wasteland World
Chapter 140 The Choice
Zhu Ning still had no concrete proof of whether she and the original owner were the same person, nor any concrete proof that her memories of the Zombie World were real.
Zhu Ning's first instinct was to contact Garbo. She got straight to the point: [Video.]
Garbo: [Ningbao! Long time no see!]
It seemed much more enthusiastic this time. [I was going to package it all for you.]
Zhu Ning: "......"
This little robot was like squeezing toothpaste—nudge it a bit, and it moved a bit. Garbo even sent a cutesy emoji, as if begging for a treat.
Zhu Ning: [Give me everything you have.]
Garbo: [Hold on!]
Garbo's model was so outdated that even its internet speed was garbage. Sending a video package took a full ten minutes. Zhu Ning leaned against the Luxury Car and waited.
There were far more videos this time—roughly 3TB. Zhu Ning closed her eyes and scanned through them. Last time she'd gotten lucky with a find, but this time there was absolutely nothing.
Another camera had captured the original owner entering the garbage room, but it was just the same scene from a different angle.
In short, all junk footage.
Garbo: [Any use?]
Zhu Ning: [No.]
Garbo sent a distressed emoji. Zhu Ning wasn't falling for its act anymore.
Zhu Ning: [Anything else on your end?]
Garbo: [Nope, I've searched everything.]
Zhu Ning: [No other footage from the garbage room?]
Garbo: [All the cameras there are broken.]
Garbo was probably telling the truth. Zhu Ning: [Keep looking.]
Garbo: [Fine.]
Zhu Ning knew asking it to keep searching was likely futile—finding a needle in a haystack. But this trip wasn't entirely fruitless.
If before she'd only suspected, she was now half-certain.
The original owner had definitely known the camera was there and deliberately looked at it. All other frontal footage had been destroyed.
These videos weren't entirely useless. From the limited evidence, the only person who'd entered the Garbage Dump that day truly was the original owner alone.
Unless the killer had destroyed other footage—but that was looking increasingly unlikely.
Zhu Ning's second instinct was to contact the building manager, Auntie Wei. She remembered the old woman had once mentioned her "going crazy." She'd only met Auntie Wei twice—the first time was right after she'd been reborn, when Auntie Wei came to collect rent, and Zhu Ning hadn't wanted to blow her cover.
The second time was when Sanitation Center staff came to deliver a welcome package. She'd seen Auntie Wei downstairs that day. After that, every time she'd tried to find the old woman, she'd come up empty.
Zhu Ning called—no answer, as expected. Messages went unanswered too.
Zhu Ning straddled the motorcycle. The Luxury Car asked: [Back to the Dignified Queen shop?]
Zhu Ning snapped down her helmet visor: "The Hive."
Since moving to the Dignified Queen shop, Zhu Ning had only been back to The Hive once. She'd paid a year's rent here, so technically it was still her home.
The flirtatious Big Wave—the motorcycle-shop owner downstairs—was gone. Her storefront had been sublet and was now a small convenience store selling cigarettes and liquor.
The Hive had no property management, no security guards. Auntie Wei appeared and disappeared at random. Zhu Ning asked a passing resident.
A scruffy man bristled at the mention of Auntie Wei: "Looking for her? You can find her around rent day. Other than that? Ghost. Don't get me started—my ceiling's been leaking for a month, can't find her anywhere. Don't let me see her."
Most diligent about collecting rent, practically invisible otherwise.
The man: "Don't bother waiting. I've been trying to catch her for days. If you see her, tell her Room 706 has a leaky ceiling."
Zhu Ning: "......"
Zhu Ning and the man exchanged contact info. They agreed that whoever spotted Auntie Wei first would notify the other—a victims' alliance.
Zhu Ning hadn't found Auntie Wei last time either, because she'd been too lazy to wait. But today she had to settle this.
Zhu Ning messaged Auntie Wei: "I want to rent another room. Let me know when you're free. I'll be home waiting."
Zhu Ning closed her Sub-Brain and went back to her own apartment. She remembered this was where she'd first encountered Sanitation Center employees and received the so-called welcome package.
It had contained a full set of standard-issue weapons and a Protective Suit. This was also where her journey into the Dead Post had begun.
Zhu Ning opened the door. Her place was absurdly small. The crinkled wrinkles on the metal wall were still there. A dusty smell hung in the air.
She'd come full circle back to where it all started.
This home bore only her traces of living. She'd moved all her belongings out, leaving the place looking hollow.
Zhu Ning walked and looked around. No extra clues here either.
She thought carefully about why she'd joined the Sanitation Center. The biggest factor was poverty. No money in the account, overdue payment notices on the door, Auntie Wei knocking for rent.
She'd wanted to earn money, so finding a job was natural—and becoming a Cleaner followed naturally, since Cleaners had a lower barrier to entry than Demon Hunters and were easier to pick up.
She'd been placed in a specific position from the very start, then advanced step by step along that trajectory.
To ensure no distractions, there was no money in the account and no extra information at home.
Zhu Ning stared hard at the metal wall across from her. Now her Metal Manipulation range was twenty meters. She no longer needed to press her hand against the wall to test her ability.
This tiny apartment at The Hive was entirely within her range.
Her brow creased.
The wrinkles on the metal wall were seized by an invisible hand, as if something were forcibly pressing them flat. The surface smoothed out somewhat.
A person can't restore a crumpled aluminum can to its original shape. The wall still had creases, but they were far less visible than before.
It wasn't until nightfall that Zhu Ning finally spotted Auntie Wei's shadow. She'd waited five hours—this really was time-consuming.
The little old lady hobbled upstairs on her cane.
Auntie Wei was about eighty-something this year. The New Calendar was only eighty years old. Zhu Ning didn't know what type of human Auntie Wei was, but she'd always suspected the woman was a survivor from after the apocalypse.
She might have lived through the original radiation.
This was Zhu Ning's third time seeing her. Auntie Wei's gaze was deeply shadowed—cloudy eyes, mostly white. She looked like the kind of old woman you'd find in a haunted house.
Auntie Wei: "You want to rent? I thought you'd moved out."
Zhu Ning: "Yeah. Is anyone next door?"
Auntie Wei peered inside. At first glance, Zhu Ning seemed like the low-maintenance type of tenant. The place was well-kept, all basic facilities intact.
Auntie Wei: "You keep a tidy place. Much better than those folks downstairs."
Auntie Wei pulled her gaze back. "Next door's occupied. How about a different one? Room 16 on this floor is open."
Zhu Ning: "Either works. Show me around."
Auntie Wei shuffled off to get the key, trembling as she went. Zhu Ning followed behind and asked: "By the way—what did you mean when you said I went crazy?"
Auntie Wei was rummaging for the key. Hearing this, she looked up. "Did you really go crazy?"
Zhu Ning kept her surface calm. "What do you mean?"
Auntie Wei: "When people go crazy, they turn into Contaminants. If you're going to lose it, do it somewhere else—not in my building."
Zhu Ning: "Tell me about it. I need to know what happened to me."
Auntie Wei found the key. "Trying to get me to talk?"
Both of them were old foxes. Auntie Wei had been around the block enough to instantly sense that Zhu Ning cared deeply about this.
Zhu Ning: "Of course, you could also choose not to say anything."
Auntie Wei could clearly feel Zhu Ning was different now. Her aura had changed considerably.
Zhu Ning hadn't drawn a weapon or shown anything unusual. She was just standing there, relaxed—yet Auntie Wei could feel the threat radiating from her.
Survival instincts told Auntie Wei: don't provoke her right now.
Auntie Wei immediately softened her tone: "It wasn't a big deal, really. You just grabbed me one day and kept asking what year it was, what month, what day—and where you were."
Zhu Ning froze. She thought she'd heard wrong. All those clues she'd accumulated—and now the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place.
The notebook found in The Ant Nest. The discarded experimental subject's brain found in Hengsheng Mechanical Company. The video footage from Garbo.
And the last piece: Auntie Wei's account.
Auntie Wei didn't see Zhu Ning's expression and went on: "I told you to check your Sub-Brain. But you insisted I tell you myself. You were in such a rush that day, clinging to me and refusing to let go. You nearly snapped my arm. Honestly, if you're going to go crazy, keep your distance from me..."
Zhu Ning stopped listening. The original owner had asked what the date was.
The very first thing Zhu Ning had done after awakening was check the date—to find out when she was.
So she wasn't the first one to wake up?
This was incredibly strange. It sounded exactly like... a rebooted experimental subject.
She was like a formatted machine, reactivated. Which version of Zhu Ning was the current one?
But why reboot? Because the previous version couldn't cope?
Zhu Ning felt data churning wildly inside her head. When she'd first awakened, her brain had retained only scattered memories—she was aware of a nearby vending machine, she knew how to purchase MegaHeal.
She knew where her home was. She could recognize Auntie Wei.
She'd always assumed she'd transmigrated here, and that these were the original owner's residual memories—guiding her survival in this world.
But now it seemed she was merely a machine that needed to be powered on. Those were just the baseline data left for her.
What level of crisis required a reboot?
"The end is nigh, we are all but ants."
Zhu Ning thought of those words again—the message the original owner had left for her.
Was a second apocalypse truly coming? What did it have to do with the Idol in Desolate Village and the Eternal Pharma Foundation?
Zhu Ning had said before that the countdown had already begun. She really was racing against something.
......
The Dignified Queen shop.
Song Zhizhang wasn't at the shop today. He'd put Lin Xiaofeng to bed. For Song Zhizhang, Zhu Ning had only been gone one day—she'd left yesterday for the Contamination Zone.
Zhu Ning had said she'd be back later that morning, but there'd been no sign of her. Song Zhizhang had replied to her message, asking when she'd return.
But Zhu Ning hadn't replied.
So Song Zhizhang kept staring at the chat screen. He and Zhu Ning didn't talk often. He scrolled through their conversations over and over, then decided his own behavior was rather silly.
The room was dark. Song Zhizhang sat alone. Light from outside seeped in, making the room feel vast and empty.
Knock knock knock—
At this hour, it was usually the assistant manager. He went to open the door. The moment it cracked open, someone forced it wide.
A gust of cold wind rushed in.
The door was held open by tremendous force. Song Zhizhang sensed who it was and didn't resist.
"Zhu Ning?"
Zhu Ning stood outside the door, wearing a dark rock hoodie she wouldn't normally be caught in. The season called for down jackets—she was dressed light. An icy chill radiated from her entire being.
Zhu Ning strode through the door. Song Zhizhang felt a hand shove his shoulder, his back hitting the door. Zhu Ning pinned him with one hand on his shoulder.
Her other hand pressed against his temple. Song Zhizhang always wore the Human-Machine Interface Device on his temple. The ring wasn't glowing now—dormant, it appeared a deathly white, like a pale tattoo etched into the skin. Zhu Ning's fingertip pressed down on it, and a chill seeped through, making Song Zhizhang shiver.
The person closest to Prometheus was Song Zhizhang.
"Song Zhizhang." Zhu Ning's fingertip rested on the ring. She wasn't pressing hard, but the pressure was palpable.
Song Zhizhang's heart was racing. Zhu Ning had come for Prometheus.
"I trust you, don't I?" Zhu Ning's voice was low. Her eyes had already switched to data mode, glowing blue.
She was like a cheetah that had caught a rabbit, claws already bared. Song Zhizhang was the rabbit trapped beneath her paw.
Song Zhizhang frowned. He could tell from her tone what she was after, and he cut straight to the point: "I have never harmed you."
He was like a hostage desperate to prove his loyalty. "I've never lied to you either."
He knew that trust was the hardest thing to test. He moved to strangle any possible misunderstanding in its cradle.
Zhu Ning studied him for a moment. Her finger still pressed against Song Zhizhang's temple—she could rip the device out at any time.
Song Zhizhang: "You can't use this anymore. I've worn it too long—it's fused with my nerves. If you rip it out by force, it could cause brain damage. And it's imprinted with my residual consciousness—using it would drive a person insane. You wouldn't be able to reach Prometheus."
Zhu Ning let out a laugh. Song Zhizhang really was the boss—he knew what she was thinking without her even saying it.
It would cause injury if pulled out? Zhu Ning thought wickedly—she did enjoy seeing people hurt when she was angry.
All along, Song Zhizhang had been the intermediary between Zhu Ning and Prometheus. They'd maintained a careful balance, appearing close while sharing none of each other's secrets.
That was what kept it safe.
But Zhu Ning had always felt she and Song Zhizhang had a personal connection. Even if he followed Prometheus's orders, they still had their own bond.
Zhu Ning liked making friends when she was out and about. She trusted that bond, so she'd show her trust to earn trust in return.
She'd been betrayed before, and she'd been trusted before.
She was a decent judge of character. Song Zhizhang was probably telling the truth—he'd never harmed her, never lied to her.
Zhu Ning: "Pass along a message for me."
Before, Zhu Ning had wanted to bypass Song Zhizhang and speak directly with Prometheus—that would have been safer. Now she'd changed her mind.
Zhu Ning asked: "Why did you choose me?"
She'd been strung along by Prometheus this whole time. She wanted to know why she'd been chosen.
This question wasn't directed at Song Zhizhang. It was for Prometheus. Zhu Ning was demanding a direct conversation.
Her anger wasn't aimed at Song Zhizhang either. This time, he truly was just the relay point.
After Zhu Ning asked, silence fell. In the darkness, two forces held their ground. Song Zhizhang was Zhu Ning's hostage.
If Prometheus didn't answer, Zhu Ning might rip the Human-Machine Interface Device from Song Zhizhang's temple and crush it.
A minute passed. The blue ring on Song Zhizhang's temple lit up.
Prometheus had come online. It looked like only two people were here, but a third had been present all along.
The blue ring shone starkly in the darkness, radiating a cold light.
Song Zhizhang blinked. He looked straight into Zhu Ning's eyes and spoke Prometheus's reply: "It wasn't I who chose you. It was you who chose me."
Author's Note
Don't worry about not understanding everything! It'll all be explained later! Trust me!
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