Daylight had fully broken, and the morning sun remained unchanged.
Yet the entire city was shrouded in billowing smoke, like a bloody hell.
Zhang Yang woke from his sleep, feeling that something was faintly unreal.
He could vaguely hear gunfire outside, but not the cries of survivors, nor much of the snarls of the Demonized Zombies.
Even when he looked out the window, the entire street was clean apart from the burned-out and stalled cars, as if nothing had happened.
There were no bloodstains. Nothing at all.
That was because by yesterday evening, there had been almost no survivors left on the streets.
All the survivors had hidden inside buildings, trembling as they waited for whatever rescue might exist.
But inside the Apocalyptic Fortress, the scene was completely different.
Fatty Boss truly was an exceptional talent. In the time it took Zhang Yang to sleep, he had already handled countless matters for him, such as taking in survivors, persuading the group of survivors made up of supermarket employees and customers in the underground parking lot, and organizing the survivors to sort through all the supplies on the second basement level and in the supermarket on the first floor.
Because of their various conditions, these survivors could not yet be included in the recruitment system of the Apocalyptic Village Building Order, but that did not mean they were incapable of working.
Previously, Zhang Yang had lacked the time and energy to deal with them. Now, the timing was perfect.
Of these more than five hundred survivors, once the wounded, the frail, and the women and children were excluded, the rest could be put to very good use.
For example, by ten that morning, they had managed to clear out all ten floors of the entire office building. That was work Zhang