Chapter 449 - 61 - 2040?
Chen didn't lower his gun.
His arm remained steady, the weapon pointed toward the injured man while his eyes carefully followed every small movement he made. The stranger's shoulders were hunched, his back pressed against the wall as though he wanted to make himself as small as possible. His injured arm was held tightly against his chest, and every few seconds his fingers nervously tightened around it.
The wound looked like a slash rather than a bite, but Chen wasn't willing to take the man's word for it. A frightened face and a believable story didn't mean much in a world where one mistake could get someone killed. He had seen people lie for food, medicine, and shelter before. He had also seen people turn into monsters within minutes of being bitten.
"Who are you?" Chen asked.
The man swallowed hard. His eyes flicked toward the gun before quickly returning to Chen's face.
"I... I'm nobody. I was just looking for supplies."
"That's not what I asked."
Chen took a slow step closer, his expression hardening when the man instinctively shrank farther into the corner.
"Who are you, and what were you doing here?"
The man's fingers tightened around his injured arm. His breathing became quicker, and for a moment he seemed unsure whether answering would make things better or worse.
"I was with a group," he finally said. "We came here looking for food and medicine. There were a few of us." His voice shook slightly as he spoke. "We were searching through the factory when the zombies found us."
"How many?"
"I don't know. A lot."
He shook his head, his eyes widening at the memory.
"Too many."
Chen's eyes narrowed.
"And your group?"
The man's face changed immediately. His mouth tightened, and the fear in his eyes was replaced by something heavier.
"They left me."
Chen stared at him.
"What?"
"They were running, and I couldn't keep up after I got hurt." The man glanced down at his arm, his fingers trembling slightly as he touched the edge of the bandage. "They didn't come back for me. I hid in here, and I could hear them outside."
His voice dropped until Chen almost had to strain to hear him.
"They were all eaten."
Skyy, who had been standing quietly behind Chen, shifted at those words. His eyebrows pulled together, and his eyes moved toward the man with a mixture of curiosity and unease. He seemed to be trying to imagine what the stranger had just described.
Chen noticed Skyy's reaction from the corner of his eye but kept his attention on the injured man.
"You expect me to believe that?"
The man looked at him helplessly.
"It's the truth."
"You just happened to survive while everyone else was eaten?"
"I was lucky."
The answer came quickly, almost desperately.
Chen's expression didn't soften.
Lucky.
He wasn't sure whether he believed in luck anymore.
The blood at the entrance, the fresh wound, and the man's frightened behavior could all be genuine. But something about the situation still made Chen uneasy. He kept studying the man's face, waiting for some small inconsistency, some movement that might reveal he was lying.
Nothing came.
Still, Chen didn't trust him.
But the man was injured, and leaving a deep wound untreated could become another problem. If it became infected, they would have an even bigger mess on their hands.
After a moment, Chen finally lowered the gun slightly.
"Let me see your arm."
The man's eyes widened in surprise. He hesitated before slowly extending it.
"Don't make me regret this," Chen warned.
"I won't," the man quickly promised.
Chen crouched down and examined the injury carefully. The cut was long and deep, but there were no obvious bite marks around it. He ran his eyes over the wound one more time before taking out some supplies from his bag.
The man flinched when Chen began cleaning it.
"Hold still."
"Sorry," the man whispered, immediately going rigid.
Chen continued working without saying anything. The man sucked in a sharp breath when the disinfectant touched the wound, his fingers curling against the floor, but he forced himself not to pull away.
Once Chen finished cleaning it, he wrapped the bandage firmly around the man's arm.
The man looked down at it for a moment, then back at Chen.
"Thank you."
Chen stood and put the remaining supplies away.
"Don't mistake this for trust."
The man quickly nodded.
"I understand."
Chen moved to the opposite side of the room and sat down against the wall, deliberately putting plenty of distance between himself and the stranger. He kept his gun within reach, his eyes occasionally drifting toward the man even when he wasn't directly looking at him.
The injured man settled into his own corner, carefully cradling his bandaged arm against his chest. He looked exhausted. Every now and then, his gaze wandered toward the door as if he expected the zombies to suddenly break through it.
Skyy sat near Chen, quietly watching the stranger.
Unlike Chen, there was no suspicion in his expression.
He was simply curious.
His blue eyes followed the man for several moments before he finally spoke.
"Where do you live?"
The man looked toward him.
"We live in a small group nearby."
"A group?"
"Yeah." The man gave a small nod. "There aren't many of us. We've been surviving together for a while."
He hesitated, then looked down at his injured arm.
"But recently, the zombies started overrunning the area. We couldn't stay anymore."
Chen released a quiet breath and leaned his head back against the wall.
"It's getting worse everywhere."
He stared up at the ceiling, his expression tired.
"Twenty-five years," he murmured. "In just twenty-five years, the world has gone to trash."
The injured man's head suddenly lifted.
His eyebrows drew together.
"Twenty-five years?"
Chen glanced over at him.
"Yeah."
The man's confused expression deepened.
"But... it's only been twenty years."
Chen's face slowly changed.
For a moment, he didn't say anything.
The man's brows remained furrowed as he looked between Chen and Skyy, clearly unable to understand why his simple statement had caused such a strange reaction.
"What did you say?" Chen finally asked.
"I said it's only been twenty years."
Chen slowly straightened against the wall.
His thoughts immediately returned to everything Trexa had told him earlier. The future. The burned lands. The enormous rock that had supposedly fallen from the sky. Skyy's story about where he had come from.
He had thought Trexa simply didn't know the exact year.
Maybe she had traveled through a future that was far beyond their own time.
But now this stranger was telling him something completely different.
Twenty years.
Not twenty-five.
Chen stared at him.
"What year is it?"
The man blinked at the question.
"2040."
Chen went completely still.
His fingers slowly tightened against his knee.
For several seconds, he simply stared at the man, waiting for him to smile or laugh, waiting for some indication that he had misunderstood the question.
There was none.
The man only looked back at him with growing confusion.
"It's 2040," he repeated, as though Chen had somehow failed to hear him the first time.
Chen's eyes shifted toward Skyy.
Skyy was watching him now too, his head tilted slightly and his blue eyes filled with quiet confusion.
Chen looked back at the injured man.
2040
Twenty years.
That was impossible.