6:30 PM on November 30th.
Outside the Safe City.
A truck rumbled as it drove towards the main gate of the Safe City.
The main gate of the Safe City was lined with sharpened wooden barriers pointing outwards.
Behind these spiked barriers was another large gate. There were many of these barriers, forming roughly three layers from a distance to up close, with only a gap left in the middle.
This arrangement was to prevent zombie attacks, allowing the personnel on duty at the gate enough time to evacuate and retreat behind the main gate.
At the entrance of the Safe City, Mr. Wang stopped the vehicle and then stepped out.
The lead Patrol Team captain on duty glanced at Mr. Wang, finding him a bit unfamiliar.
"First time here?"
"Hello, Captain Tao, this is a small token of my appreciation." Mr. Wang pulled out two unopened packs of cigarettes from his pocket and slipped them into the man's hand.
Captain Tao raised an eyebrow. He was certain he had never seen this person before, yet this person knew his surname.
"How do you know me?"
"Oh, what are you saying? Everyone outside knows you, Captain Tao! Everyone says you're a good person, taking care of your brothers. Many people have relied on you to get in here."
Mr. Wang poured out a basketful of compliments as if they cost nothing. This Mr. Wang was also a person who could bend and adapt, someone who had been a boss, but now bowed his head and acted subserviently without any awkwardness.
A brilliant smile spread across his face, making it difficult for people to feel any goodwill towards him.
Everyone likes to be praised, especially a small leader on duty at this gate.
To put it bluntly, this was the head of the gatekeepers. Although this position was highly coveted due to its ample 'grease money,' he was only able to hold it because of his connections; otherwise, it wouldn't have been his turn.
But, ultimately, he was still just a gatekeeper.
Hearing Mr. Wang praise him like this made him feel extremely comfortable deep down.
"What's your name?" Captain Tao asked, unable to help but stand a little straighter under Mr. Wang's flattery, adopting a slightly pretentious tone.
"Just call me Little Wang." Mr. Wang maintained a slightly bowed posture, lifting his head to reply.
"Little Wang, huh. Hmm... I feel a connection with you, but, you know, the Safe City has its regulations, right? So, you still have to pay what's required according to the rules."
"Understood, understood."
Captain Tao, seeing how sensible this Little Wang was, said with satisfaction, "I like obedient people like you. Alright."
He turned his head and said to the two people next to him, "For this person, just collect half of his supplies."
"Okay, Captain Tao."
"Alright."
The rear door of the truck was opened, and the person collecting supplies opened the door to find half a truckload of supplies inside, momentarily stunned.
In all these days, this person had brought the most.
However, the captain had already given the order to only collect half, so they didn't dare to be too presumptuous. Besides, they would at most only collect three-fifths, and the current proportion was already extremely high; they couldn't take any more.
Because taking too much, exceeding the survivors' tolerance, would mean no more survivors would be willing to come in later, which would be like killing the goose that lays the golden eggs.
Several people moved the items out of the truck: boxes of food, and especially some precious full cartons of cigarettes, which were hard currency in the apocalypse.
After a while, the items were finally sorted. Mr. Wang went back to the truck to check, and indeed, about half had been collected.
He then stepped forward to thank Captain Tao and got into the truck, leaving the main gate.
This Safe City was quite peculiar; they wouldn't check you when you entered, regardless of whether you were new or had always lived there. As long as you paid food or supplies, you could enter.
However, once you entered, they would only provide protection, ensuring you wouldn't be robbed inside or harmed by people or zombies.
Nothing else was provided; they wouldn't issue supplies, and if you starved to death, no one would care.
This Safe City was like a team that collected protection fees. You paid them a certain amount of protection fees, and they would protect your safety. The only difference was that this protection fee wasn't money, but food!
It had been a year since the apocalypse broke out, and many old supplies had already been exhausted. Survivors were like locusts, scavenging buildings from before the apocalypse, round after round, until they were clean.
After the previous scorching hot and dry weather, many stored foods had molded and stunk before people even found them.
The current food problem had become the biggest survival challenge for survivors, second only to zombies.
Mr. Wang drove the vehicle, holding a piece of paper Captain Tao had given him, which had "C Zone, 19th Building, 2nd Floor" written on it, along with a set of keys.
He drove through a well-lit area, which looked quite luxurious. As he continued, the lights became scarcer, and by the time he reached Zone C, there was almost no light around.
Mr. Wang looked behind him; it seemed there were still a few more zones behind.
He parked the car by the roadside and then got out.
Bang!
Mr. Wang closed the car door, looking around. This place felt a bit cold.
He tightened his clothes. He felt a bit tired; he hadn't slept well these past few days and was very sleepy now.
His flashlight beam hit the wall.
19th Building.
Just as he was about to step upstairs, some lights suddenly flashed to his right, along with four or five figures.
Mr. Wang's heart tightened. Could they be looking for trouble? Didn't they say that as long as you paid the protection fee at the main gate, you would be protected once inside?
As he was guessing, these people walked over. The leading middle-aged man shone his flashlight on Mr. Wang's face, and a magnetic yet deep voice came:
"New here?"
Mr. Wang's eyes were a bit dazzled by the flashlight's glare, but seeing that the person opposite didn't sound malicious, he replied, "Yes, just arrived."
"We're the Patrol Team, maintaining internal security. Here, I'll give you a whistle. If you have any trouble, you can call us anytime." The middle-aged man tossed over a small whistle.
Mr. Wang quickly caught it, a small plastic green whistle. This item was very common.
But weren't they afraid that blowing this would attract zombies?
Never mind, he wouldn't think about it. Since they gave him such a thing, it at least meant their internal security might genuinely be good.
"Okay, thank you."
"Alright, we're leaving."
Mr. Wang watched them leave. In the dark night, these people gave Mr. Wang a unique feeling.
He suddenly understood why some people always wanted to come in. Although the Safe City charged expensive protection fees, it seemed they were genuinely doing their best to protect.
He shook his head, no longer thinking about it, and Mr. Wang began to carry his belongings upstairs.
