Within the white fog, Chu An walked into its depths as casually as though strolling through a courtyard.
As he went deeper, the radio broadcast echoing through the thick fog seemed to burrow into his mind, playing over and over:
"Uuuh, uuuh."
A woman's sobbing, a child's sobbing.
"I don't want to die."
"Save us."
The broadcast was chaotic, as though it were merely a meaningless recording.
From the background, the sharp crack of gunfire could be heard indistinctly.
"Rat-a-tat-tat-tat—rat-a-tat."
The distant gunfire mixed with the soldiers' furious roars, sounding just like the Zombie outbreak at the beginning of the apocalypse.
"Retreat! We're falling back!"
"Aaaah!!"
Biting, tearing, devouring.
The Zombies' roars were accompanied by footsteps fading into the distance.
Was the broadcast a recording from the beginning of the apocalypse?
Expressionless, Chu An silently took a cassette tape from his pocket and gazed quietly into the depths of the fog.
He could not make out the scenery around him. He could only vaguely see an Armored Car covered in rust, parked on the dewy grass.
Spent shell casings lay scattered across the ground, and dark-red blood stained a crooked machine gun.
Clearly, this was an Armored Car that had been surrounded and attacked by Zombies shortly after the apocalypse began.
As he drew closer, Chu An stopped and listened carefully to the repeated broadcast for a while before silently murmuring:
Can it interfere with thought?
Does sound transform into illusion?
How many seconds does it take?
Judging the time it took the meme in the white fog to take effect, he simply stood where he was and silently calculated the time.
Within the thick fog, everyone's Mental Strength and perception were restricted to the area around their bodies, as though they were blind.
In the boundless mist, anyone would