Chapter 8: Survivor

The previous owner had likely made some renovations, adding the storage room that wasn't in the original layout.

There were also the items in the refrigerator. Although the fruits and vegetables had rotted, he might be able to extract seeds from them to cultivate new crops. No matter how much food he had, it would eventually run out. Growing his own produce was the only way to ensure long-term sustainability.

Han Ning made up his mind. Leaving empty-handed for now, he walked to the door and listened intently.

Only the sound of the rain echoed in the hallway outside; there was no sign of any living creature. He gently pulled the door open, hurried down the stairs, and returned to the seventh floor.

Back at the familiar door of Room 703, Han Ning went inside to find containers. He packed up his supplies, frequently used tools, a few changes of clothes, and his bedding—pillows, blankets, and sheets that still carried his masculine scent.

Without pausing to catch his breath, he decisively headed out again. Time was of the essence. He had to transfer as many supplies as possible to his new residence before he was discovered or a monster appeared.

Although he didn't have much, his belongings were piecemeal enough to require more than one trip, especially with heavy items like the newly planted crops. He prioritized the most important things first.

During his second trip, just as he was carefully dragging the last of his supplies to the stairwell...

TAP... TAP... TAP...

A faint sound echoed from downstairs.

"Are those footsteps?" he thought. "And there's more than one person. The steps are light, but they're coming up the stairs fast."

Han Ning strained his ears, his expression instantly turning solemn. The sounds were heading straight toward the eighth floor.

At the same time, the creatures below seemed to realize that Han Ning's movements had stopped, and their pace quickened. Han Ning retracted the vines wrapped around his supplies and fixed a dead stare down the stairwell. If they were human, they wouldn't be as terrifying in terms of raw combat power.

The footsteps grew closer and clearer.

TAP TAP TAP, TAP TAP TAP!

They were moving fast, making no attempt to hide their approach. There was an air of urgency and greed in their stride.

The next second, five figures burst up from the sixth floor, running straight into Han Ning just as he prepared to ascend.

Leading the group was a lean, muscular young man with a buzz cut. He wielded a steel pipe wrapped in cloth, its tip ground into a sharp point. All five pairs of eyes immediately locked onto the storage boxes behind Han Ning, brimming with desire.

The buzz-cut man pointed his steel pipe at Han Ning. "Leave the stuff and get lost!"

Before he even finished speaking, two men behind him, unable to hold back any longer, charged silently past Han Ning toward his supplies like wild dogs slipping their leashes.

"You're courting death!"

Seeing them act like blatant robbers, a violent rage surged in Han Ning's heart. The life-and-death struggles of the past few days, coupled with the constant anxiety of scarce supplies, ignited completely in this moment.

SWISH! SWISH!

A sharp piercing sound tore through the stuffy air of the hallway. Ten thick vines, covered densely with sharp Wooden Thorns, shot out from the floorboards, wall corners, and even the shadows of the ceiling around Han Ning.

The two men in the lead only saw a flash of green before a tremendous force slammed into their chests and arms.

SMACK! SMACK!

"Aaaargh!"

"My hand!"

Dull thuds and shrill screams rang out almost simultaneously. The man reaching for the rice bag took a precise lash to the wrist from a vine. A crisp crack of bone echoed clearly as he was sent tumbling backward with a shriek, crashing heavily into a puddle of water. Over a dozen Wooden Thorns were embedded in his skin—a genuinely agonizing sight.

The other man fared even worse. Two vines struck him—one lashed the arm he had extended, and the other swept brutally across his calves, sending him tumbling down the stairs.

The remaining two men, who had been half a beat slower in their charge, were scared out of their wits by the terrifying, sudden counterattack. They slammed on the brakes, stopping dead in their tracks. Terrified, they stared at the ten living vines slowly writhing around Han Ning.

"An Awakened?!"

The muscles on the buzz-cut man's face twitched violently as he unconsciously backed away. Like a magic trick, his expression instantly shifted into an almost sycophantic smile.

"A misunderstanding! It's a huge misunderstanding!" The buzz-cut man quickly dropped his steel pipe to the floor with a CLANG and raised his hands in surrender, explaining loudly, "We're on the same side, bro! It's friendly fire, like the flood washing away the Dragon King's temple!"

He carefully shuffled half a step forward, glancing at the ten dark green vines writhing in front of Han Ning, and immediately stopped.

Seeing that Han Ning showed no signs of attacking, the man continued. "To tell you the truth, our boss is also an Awakened. He's actively looking for other Awakened like you, bro."

Han Ning frowned. "Your boss? Is he in this building too?"

"Yeah, we usually operate on the fourth and fifth floors," the buzz-cut man nodded. "This place is a hellhole. It's too hard to survive alone.

"Our boss says that we only have a chance of surviving if we stick together and twist ourselves into a single rope.

"With your skills, bro, if you join us, you'll definitely be the second-in-command. You'll have whatever you want—supplies, women, you name it.

"So, what do you say? Want to think about it?"

Completely ignoring his screaming subordinates behind him, the man tried his best to sound sincere.

Han Ning remained expressionless, but sneered internally. The ugly sight of these guys rushing forward like ravenous dogs to snatch his supplies was still fresh in his mind, yet they had suddenly turned into "allies" in the blink of an eye. The reality was likely that they wanted his newly found supplies and his abilities as an Awakened to use him as a thug or cannon fodder.

"Not interested," Han Ning said, his voice completely flat as he rejected the invitation outright.

The smile on the buzz-cut man's face stiffened, but quickly returned to normal. He rubbed his hands together and gave a dry laugh. "I understand, I understand. We offended you just now, so it's normal for you to hold a grudge.

"There's no rush. Take your time to think about it." As he spoke, he signaled to his three other lackeys to pull the two injured men up from the floor. "We live in Room 402 on the fourth floor. If you ever figure things out, or if you need any help, come down and find us anytime."

Han Ning just watched them coldly, saying nothing.

"We'll take our leave then." The buzz-cut man felt a chill run down his spine under Han Ning's gaze. Not daring to say another word, he quickly called out to his companions and hurried away.

The chaotic footsteps quickly receded, fading into the darkness of the lower floors. Soon, only the endless sound of the rain remained in the hallway.

Han Ning turned quickly, flicking out his vines to wrap around the storage boxes filled with tools and food, and continued his ascent to the eighth floor.

Back inside Room 803.

Han Ning moved the final load of supplies into the entryway and locked the security door behind him. Only after finishing all of this did he finally have the time to carefully inspect the specific supplies inside the storage room.

He took a brief inventory. The storage room in this apartment contained four heavy vacuum-sealed bags of rice, ten unopened cases of bottled water, along with some compressed biscuits, canned goods, dried foods, dried noodles, and self-heating rice meals. Additionally, there were the few bags of partially salvaged fruit and vegetable seeds he had rescued from the refrigerator.