The elementary school entrance was blocked by an old, heavy iron gate, secured with a chain lock.
Jiang Ye got out of the car to inspect it. The security booth was completely empty.
He got back in, reversed, and accelerated, smashing through the gate with a clang!
The sports field was vast, with a track at least 3,000 meters long, now covered in green slime. The white lines on the football field were entirely obscured by the green, even the goalposts had turned green, the nets resembling fishing nets from the seabed, tangled with algae.
Jiang Ye honked his horn as he drove across the empty field, arriving at the teaching building.
He honked the horn for two full minutes.
There was no movement from the surroundings. The rain had lessened to a mere sprinkle, the drops so light they barely made a sound, leaving an unnerving silence.
Jiang Ye grabbed the walkie-talkie in the car, switched it to broadcast mode, and turned the volume to maximum.
"Can anyone hear me? Can anyone hear me? This is the rescue team, this is the rescue team!"
"My headlights are on. If there are any survivors, please get in the car! The rescue vehicle will guarantee your safety and transport you to a place with ample food! Medical assistance will also be provided!"
Jiang Ye's voice echoed between the several teaching buildings, carrying far across the sports field.
But there was no reply.
Jiang Ye frowned, opened the car door, and got out, carrying his assault rifle.
A night breeze swept in, bringing a chill like cold water.
Jiang Ye entered the teaching building, using his flashlight to illuminate the windows of each classroom.
Some classrooms had their windows tightly shut, their interiors still resembling their usual state: rows of desks, display screens instead of blackboards, ceiling-mounted holographic projectors, and bookshelves in the back.
Jiang Ye entered a well-preserved classroom to investigate. The display screen was on, though dimmed to its lowest setting. As he stepped onto the podium, the entire wall immediately brightened, filling the dim classroom with white light.
The white screen was bordered by cartoon animals drawn in black lines, looking cute. In the center was a large block of text:
"This Week's Outstanding Students: Hong Yan, Kelvin Archibald, Gao Zinan, Duan Jinge"
"This Week's Duty Students: Ge Hongfei, Sai Kyōichi Shin, Che Yinghua"
After a thousand years, so many things remained unchanged.
Jiang Ye reached out to touch the screen. The desktop interface immediately appeared, displaying numerous educational software programs and lesson preparation files. There was also a folder labeled "Class Photos."
Opening the class photos, he found over a thousand pictures: photos taken during students' birthday parties, spring and autumn outings, visits to science museums, group dinners, hunting trips, and yacht excursions... Teachers and students were all elegantly dressed, their smiles reserved, like characters from a period drama.
Jiang Ye marveled inwardly, wondering if the primary schools on Crane Star were so affluent! Their lives seemed so rich and colorful! Or was this a school for the elite?
He searched through two floors consecutively, finding no one.
Some classrooms with open windows were now completely overgrown with green slime, resembling shipwrecks submerged underwater. When illuminated by his flashlight in the darkness, the scenes were particularly eerie, like something out of a post-apocalyptic game, giving the feeling that zombies could emerge from the wardrobes at any moment.
Jiang Ye returned to the first floor and saw a doorplate that read "Chinese Department Office." He opened it and went inside.
Compared to the spacious classrooms, the office was much smaller. It contained old-fashioned yellow wooden desks, their surfaces peeling. Folders were scattered haphazardly on the desks, along with paper student assignments, copies of "Poem Written in Farewell to Prefect Wei Liangzai of Jiangxia after the Chaos," with very childish handwriting. Under the desks lay several pairs of slippers and high heels. Along the wall were radiators, the common iron radiators of ancient times, with several snake-like stockings draped over them.
It felt as if the female teachers had gone to a meeting and would return any moment, sipping water from their thermoses, chattering away, discussing which class's children were mischievous, and complaining about the stagnant wages.
But they would never return.
This school would never reopen.
Jiang Ye suddenly realized a profound truth: this city was dead, this planet was dead. The prosperous Crane Star had developed vast uninhabited zones in just one week, all due to a biochemical weapon packaged in shampoo by aliens – some invisible, tiny virus.
He left the teaching building and returned to the rescue vehicle.
He drove towards the middle school opposite.
The middle school presented the same scene: no one, completely deserted.
Jiang Ye took out a map and a pen, intending to mark the places most likely to have survivors.
But he soon put the pen down. In a city in ruins, where would people gather? He truly didn't know.
He could only drive, aimlessly wandering the streets, turning from one intersection to another, stopping and starting.
At the same time, he continued broadcasting at high volume, calling out to the silent, black-and-green city:
"Can anyone hear me? Can anyone hear me? This is the rescue team, this is the rescue team!"
"My headlights are on. If there are any survivors, please get in the car! The rescue vehicle will guarantee your safety and transport you to a place with ample food! Medical assistance will also be provided!"
Finally, in a residential complex, gunshots rang out.
Jiang Ye quickly turned, crashing through the complex gate and driving the rescue vehicle inside.
Some residents of the complex had gathered downstairs. As soon as they saw the rescue vehicle, they ran towards it.
"Get in, get in!" Jiang Ye exclaimed with joy, waving them over. "I'll take you away!"
However, the residents' faces were extremely strange. Everyone was... expressionless.
They all stared at Jiang Ye, their eyes like those of corpses.
An old man walked to the car door, then suddenly pulled out a submachine gun from his embrace.
Jiang Ye's heart jolted, and he instinctively reached for his gun.
The old man fired without hesitation. A burst of bullets sent Jiang Ye tumbling backward onto the ground, his body splitting open, blood spraying all over the car.
The old man climbed into the car, dragged Jiang Ye's corpse out, stripped off his clothes, and put them on himself. Then, he waved his hand.
Over a dozen residents got into the car, men and women, old and young, sitting scattered inside, silent and stern, like an army.
The old man sat in the driver's seat and tapped the screen.
The rescue vehicle started and slowly drove out of the complex.
His emaciated hand grabbed the walkie-talkie. The old man's hoarse voice called out, broadcasting through the car's speakers into the street:
"Can anyone hear me? Can anyone hear me? This is the rescue team, this is the rescue team!"
"My headlights are on. If there are any survivors, please get in the car! The rescue vehicle will guarantee your safety and transport you to a place with ample food! Medical assistance will also be provided!"
...
Jiang Ye woke up in a bathtub filled with ice water, leaped out like a flying fish, and quickly dressed.
He tapped the screen in the room and selected the team-wide broadcast.
"Attention all personnel! Attention all personnel! Someone in the city opened fire on me. They appeared to be local residents, possibly Milian mechanical spies. Everyone must be extremely cautious!"
"They hijacked my vehicle, license plate number 00128. If you see it, you must intercept it! These mechanical spies might be using the vehicle to kill people!"
"I will report this to the military immediately. Everyone, commence operations in the city as soon as possible!"