Sorry, I Came Late

New Continent United States, New Township State.

In the city center, the once-prosperous streets and magnificent skyscrapers now looked somewhat run-down and desolate.

Many buildings' glass curtain walls had suffered extensive damage, yet no repairs had been made.

Broken glass littered the ground, along with vehicles burned down to nothing but their frames. Plastic bags and scraps of paper flew everywhere, while numerous brown stains—clearly bloodstains—marked the pavement.

Several appliance stores and clothing shops were engulfed in raging flames, yet no firefighters came to respond. Some employees, their entire bodies ablaze, even rushed out from inside, struggling as they burned into hunched, curled corpses.

The shops along the street were crammed with people, all desperately stuffing every kind of daily necessity into their bags.

Cars tore wildly through the streets, and gunshots rang out from time to time.

Some of those shots were warnings, while others were fired purely to fight over survival resources.

Various screams followed in their wake.

Several police cars screeched to a stop outside a supermarket. Seven or eight heavily armed officers got out and rushed into the store.

A group of men pushing fully loaded shopping carts came toward them and froze when they saw the police.

The officers froze as well, then opened fire at the same time, instantly killing the group of robbers before them. They seized the carts, tossed the supplies into their police cars, and sped away.

Suddenly, piercing cries and cruel laughter came from a high-rise building.

Then came the sound of shattering glass. A fat man in a tracksuit smashed through a floor-to-ceiling window and fell straight from the building. After plunging dozens of stories, he hit the ground and became a mangled heap of flesh, blood splattering everywhere.

Yet the people around him seemed entirely used to such