My luck can go against the sky

The fog dissipated, and the street lights on the street lighted up one after another.

It was already six in the morning.

The usual noisy and tranquility were gone, and the roads were no longer tidy and clean. The cars parked randomly in the middle of the road, just like a blockbuster movie. The horns kept ringing and some cars were burning.

Flames, sparks, swinging wildly on the body, seem to want to break free.

No one is directing traffic, and no grandmother and grandpa start cleaning the sanitation of the whole city in the cold morning. The traffic lights are on and off as usual, changing colors and symbols, but there is no traffic, which seems to be useless.

Those who should be off the evening shift do not know where they went, and those who should be on the early shift are not on the road.

The bustling high-rise buildings in the past are quiet and alarming. The lights are on, but no one is walking or sitting inside, watching the computer work day after day as usual.

The breakfast shop that was supposed to open did not open, but the supermarket door was open, and the goods were scattered on the ground, no one bent over to pick it up.

Some of the residential buildings and communities are in ruins, some are ashes, and others are burning.

Fortunately, there was no wind and the fire was not big, but it was burning quietly, only occasionally leaping, and it seemed to be jumping.

Those who survived hid in secret and safe corners one after another, or shut themselves up at home, staring blankly at everything outside.

The peace after the chaos is hard to come by, and it seems to tell people that all this is fake.

Han Zirong flew in the sky, slightly headed, looking at the city under his feet, feeling a little unreal.

This is the first time he has been earnestly lowering the city from the air. Thanks to his being a strong cultivator, Han Zirong clearly saw that the US-Japan group that belonged to him had become very shabby overnight.

The full-body floor-to-ceiling window design allows him to see the interior clearly at a glance.

The once well-organized office is now very messy, with blood splattered on the walls, dripping on the ground, and corpses, flesh and blood everywhere.

Someone looked out the window and the ground sluggishly in their office, just like many survivors in the city.

He could see clearly that it was Wang Ziling. The girl was not as delicate as she used to be. Her sweat made her face a little messy and her hair a little messy. She was lowering her head and staring outside blankly.

If Han Zirong didn't go down, he could save one, but he couldn't save everything. He was just one person after all. It was enough to achieve this level and fight to this level.

He has power, but the clone lacks skill.

If you can be like Sun Dasheng in the Journey to the West, you can make countless clones with a handful of hair. Han Zirong doesn't mind becoming bald.

Han Zirong thought a little bit evilly, I became bald, but I also became stronger.

I hope she can survive until the rescue arrives, Han Zirong thought.

The waist still hurts, and the broken ribs are still broken. There is no time, and with the little spiritual power left, Han Zirong didn’t heal himself. It’s enough to live. It’s just pain. He feels that compared to those who lost their lives Said that a little bit of pain is not a big deal.

Is it still painful to die?

Flying all the way forward, I have come to the sky above the hospital. Looking down, the high walls of the hospital seem to spread out.

The crossing to the hospital has been blocked. Some people are patrolling and some are walking outside.

There was a pot on the empty ground, boiling water, cooking, and there was a hint of anger.

Firework, a very common word, seems very precious at this time.

Han Zirong smiled, his brain was a little hot, he wanted to shout, but he resisted it, Xiao Guai was still sleeping, although he had never been a father or brother, but thanks to the powerful network, the child did not sleep well. Han Zirong still knows that it's hard to be woken.

Slowly falling, people watched him, without surprise, fear, or panic, just watching him closely.

Someone was crying, but Han Zirong didn't look at it. He knew what it was because of, and this kind of crying would continue for a long time in the future.

Pei Manqing is now responsible for the work of the surviving point of the entire hospital, and seems very busy, but the moment he saw Han Zirong, he still came to Han Zirong.

The lean and strong style was suddenly revealed, and he was talking to others as he walked.

Han Zirong looked at her with a smile on his face and said apologetically: "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left you alone at that time."

She knew what Han Zirong was talking about. For a moment, tears rolled in her eyes, but Pei Manqing held back and smiled and said, "Do you need a place to rest for a while?"

"Minister Fan has gone to the station. He wants to block all the traffic arteries leading to Jiangxia City."

"You know, Jiangxia City is like this, but it can't accommodate those tourists."

With that said, she looked at the little boy in Han Zirong's arms, and wanted to reach out and hug her.

I didn't ask who it was or where her parents were.

Han Zirong waved his hand, took a step back, and said cautiously: "This kid may have to follow me in the future. It is not suitable for contact with other people and can't control it."

Pei Manqing retracted his hand, stroked the broken hair between his forehead, nodded, did not ask much.

The young man with his roots looked at Han Zirong curiously, with some hostility in his eyes.

This kind of look is familiar to Han Zirong. He didn't say anything. He stepped forward and said, "Arrange a room for me below. Well, prepare a little girl's clothes."

"Prepare some more food, whatever you want."

Pei Manqing nodded and looked at the young man beside him and said: "Dong Xin, you can arrange it."

Dong Xin nodded, but hesitated: "The following safety points are for the elderly and children, he..."

Pei Manqing waved his hand, looking a bit sharp and decisive.

"There should be a room down there. I know what you want to say. If we don't have him today, maybe we will not have a living person in Jiang Xia."

"Go ahead, hurry up."

Dong Xin glanced at Han Zirong, no longer hesitating, but his perception of Han Zirong suddenly changed, but he still followed Pei Manqing's words and went to work.

Pei Manqing looked at Han Zirong with a wry smile: "There is no way to promote the line of fire."

"I can't manage so many people alone."

Han Zirong nodded: "Well, it's normal. All the original systems are scattered and destroyed. You can quickly form a team to manage it, which is very good."

Pei Manqing's eyes dimmed, and he said bitterly, "When will someone come?"

Han Zirong pursed his lips: "There will be, there will be."

Neither of them specifically pointed out who came, but both of them knew exactly who it was.

At the same time, it is also very clear that this state may last for a long time.

Han Zirong walked inward with his legs open, all the way to the arranged room to rest. On the way, many people were resting wrapped in quilts. The whole night running around and the mental and sensory stimulation would make people feel very tired, and Han Zirong was the same.

He took a hasty bath, changed into the uniform of the Bureau of Investigation of Abnormalities, and took out a rejuvenating needle from the arsenal. Han Zirong lay next to Xiaoguai, silently recovering his aura, and at the same time healed his injuries.

Running around all night, desperately.

Death has passed him many times, and it was Han Zirong who couldn't stand it.

Closing his eyes, letting his spirits freely repair his injuries, Han Zirong shrank in the quilt, gently holding Xiaoguai with one hand, and fell asleep.