Chapter 34.1: The Travel Team
In an unfamiliar world, finding the nation of Yunbula was no easy task.
But Cheng Qisheng had crystal hunters scattered across the land.
She first memorized the map of the Velvet Star World, then, using the map’s directions as a guide, closed her eyes and searched for the believer closest to Yunbula.
Several months had passed. The believers who had set out to explore were now like beads scattered in every direction, spread across different regions.
Through their eyes, Cheng Qisheng was also able to witness more and more of the world’s current state.
Plants had already spread across most of the world at an astonishing pace. Desolation was everywhere. Most survivors in the cities hid underground, risking trips to surface buildings in search of supplies and food.
The situation at the Yunyang Underground Base—where people were united and striving toward a common goal—was ultimately a rare exception.
Before the apocalypse, the director of the Yunyang Base had been a district governor. He knew how to calm the population, manage the base, and help people maintain a semblance of normal life.
Most importantly, the Yunyang Base had Dr. Yu Zhitian, a genius virologist.
For the survivors of Yunyang Base, there was still hope. When facing hardship and hunger, they would tell themselves:
We have Dr. Yu. Dr. Yu is researching the zombie virus. Maybe a vaccine will be developed soon. Perhaps those zombies can even be turned back into normal people.
“Zombies can never become human again.”
However, after working in the Blue Sea Temple for some time, Yu Zhitian finally voiced the cruel truth she had discovered long ago to the Red-Robed Archbishop, who was also a virologist.
“Although they still have red blood and haven’t decayed excessively, making it seem as though their bodies are still functioning, the truth is that their brains were replaced by this unknown virus long ago.”
Yu Zhitian had kept too many things buried in her heart for far too long.
This was something she could tell no one—not even the director, who appeared rational and had been tirelessly expanding the base. She did not dare tell him either.
The people who survived had, almost without exception, lost loved ones in the apocalypse. And almost everyone knew that the number of humans was vastly outnumbered by the hordes of zombies.
What they truly longed for was not merely a vaccine that would prevent infection from a zombie’s scratch.
They longed for something that could turn zombies back into the people they once were.
But there was no such thing.
There never had been.
From the very beginning, once infection occurred, the virus would race toward the human brain at incredible speed. It would dissolve the brain and then take over its functions itself.
An ordinary person’s memories, reason, and sense of self all resided in the brain. Once it was dissolved, that life was effectively dead.
There was no resurrection.
A zombie could never become human again.
The world could never return to what it once was.
Only when speaking with the Red-Robed Archbishop, someone who shared the same profession, did Yu Zhitian finally find an outlet for her thoughts.
The archbishop truly understood her. He could comprehend her despair and her sense of helplessness.
In the end, all he could do was pat her shoulder comfortingly.
“This has nothing to do with you. It was a war of biology, and without question, humanity lost—and lost quickly.”
“Even the most brilliant general cannot change the outcome of a war that was already lost, Doctor.”
“Yes, I’ve known that for a long time.”
Years of relentless work had left exhaustion etched across Yu Zhitian’s face. A hint of self-mockery lingered in her eyes.
“But I never told them. So many people… so many people were infected, and before they died, they believed that someday I would be able to save them and their families.”
The Red-Robed Archbishop could see her exhaustion, her numbness, and the deep self-loathing hidden beneath them.
At that moment, he temporarily set aside his secondary profession as a virologist and returned to his primary calling.
Smiling gently, he stood beneath the overhead lights. The illumination made his aged features appear warm, serene, and almost holy.
“You did the right thing. They needed hope. If you hadn’t concealed the truth, the outcome would only have been worse. At the very least, when they departed this world, they did so with hope in their hearts.”
The Red-Robed Archbishop spoke slowly, his voice gentle and soothing. Listening to him, one could not help but feel a sense of calm settling over the heart.
“You helped those who survived. You gave them hope and helped them hold on long enough to wait for our arrival.”
He placed the research materials on the zombie virus into Yu Zhitian’s hands.
“Although you lost a war that ended swiftly, the initiative has now returned to you, Doctor. You can choose to begin a new war—develop a vaccine, and prevent people from dying in agony from nothing more than a small scratch.”
He continued softly:
“Doctor, you cannot save those who have already died, but you can stop more people from dying.”
Yu Zhitian’s pupils trembled slightly.
Those words struck home.
The expression on her face gradually settled into calm once more.
Taking a deep breath, she looked at the Red-Robed Archbishop before her.
“Only now do I feel like you’re truly a member of the clergy. You’re different from the religious figures on Velvet Star. I can tell that you genuinely want to help me.”
The archbishop smiled and placed a hand over his heart.
“God loves all people. We merely follow Her will.”
Then he extended his other hand toward her.
“Doctor, I can sense the confusion and pain in your heart—the vulnerability and the desire to run away. You’ve experienced too much and witnessed too much. You’re exhausted. You need a safe harbor.”
The holy archbishop smiled warmly, waiting for her response.
“Join us. Become one of God’s believers. Become part of our family, and let us be your refuge. You know that with your abilities, you would live very well in Blue Sea.”
Yu Zhitian looked at the outstretched hand.
She had already spent quite some time in Blue Sea, and Blue Sea had treated her exceptionally well.
They had opened their laboratories and equipment to her use, arranged living quarters for her within the temple, provided her with more than enough points on her benefits card, and placed no restrictions on her movements. She was free to go wherever she wished whenever she pleased.
To be honest, if their positions were reversed, Yu Zhitian doubted that the people of Velvet Star could show this same level of kindness and trust.
—Of course, it was also possible that Blue Sea was simply so powerful that it had no need to be overly cautious.
Yu Zhitian wished she could devote every waking moment to her work. She desperately wanted to develop a zombie vaccine as quickly as possible, but progress was slow. That was why she had become increasingly anxious and exhausted.
Whenever she reached a dead end and had no idea how to proceed, she would temporarily leave the laboratory and wander around. She would observe the thriving prosperity of the inner city, then visit the outer city to see the people of Velvet Star who had finally gained stable lives.
Yu Zhitian believed that Blue Sea truly had a god.
Otherwise, considering the obvious physical strength of the Blue Sea people and their battle-loving nature, it would have been impossible for them to live together so peacefully.
There was also the temple.
Every member of the clergy seemed to possess a kindness and tolerance that came from the heart—a tranquility born from a faith that had been fulfilled.
At first, Yu Zhitian had assumed it was some kind of mental manipulation.
After all, they were aliens. The ability to influence minds did not seem particularly far-fetched.
Because of that suspicion, she remained cautious.
But over time, she realized things were not as she had imagined.
The people of Velvet Star who had come to believe in the Creator God of Blue Sea showed little change in either personality or way of thinking compared to before.
“I just feel safer.”
The new believer was a survivor from Yunyang Base. She happily shared her feelings with Yu Zhitian.
“I still miss my family. I still feel sad whenever I think about them. But I can feel that sense of security deep inside. I can also feel that I’m the same as the Blue Sea people around me—that I belong here. It’s like being held in my mother’s arms when I was a child.”
From this, Yu Zhitian arrived at a conclusion:
The concept of a “Blue Sea person” was not a race.
It was a faith.
As long as one shared the same belief in the Creator God, one was considered a Blue Sea person.
It was not mind control.
Rather, it was a connection between a deity and their believers.
Once that connection was established, the believer received the god’s protection—and in return, offered their loyalty.
“It’s a very fair exchange.”
There was no doubt that it was tempting.
For an elderly woman who had lost all of her loved ones and watched her entire world collapse, the offer was undeniably appealing.
Yet Yu Zhitian still did not take the outstretched hand.
“I know you’ll leave eventually. The zombie virus is evolving. The zombies in this world will become harder and harder to deal with. Before long, the Safe City will depart from this world.”
“I don’t plan to leave. There are still many of my people on Velvet Star. I need to find them, develop a vaccine, and bring it to them. At the very least, I want to leave them with hope.”
The Red-Robed Archbishop sighed.
“But the disasters won’t stop.”
“Yes, I know,” Yu Zhitian replied. “But I’ve learned how the Safe City system works. As long as Velvet Star survives this disaster, then when the next disaster arrives, if there are still more than ten thousand survivors in a region, Velvet Star will have a chance to receive a Safe City of its own. That will be my goal.”
She truly longed for a refuge.
But her refuge had already been shattered.
It lay behind her.
And she knew that if she stepped into a new refuge, the warmth and comfort she found there would make her stay.
But what about the old refuge?
The place that had carried her through her entire life.
The place where all her loved ones had lived.
Someone had to remain behind and try to repair it.
The Red-Robed Archbishop saw the determination in her eyes.
Slowly, he withdrew his hand.
There was regret in his expression, but also respect.
“Very well. We respect your decision.”
…
Cheng Qisheng had observed the entire conversation from beginning to end.
Well, it wasn’t particularly surprising.
The moment she saw Yu Zhitian, she had already known that there was no way she could persuade this virology doctor to leave with them.
Because Yu Zhitian was the hope of Velvet Star civilization.
And so she would stay.
Every time a Safe City moved to a new location, it consumed crystal cores. Because of that cost, no Safe City would go to the trouble of gathering every survivor scattered across a world. The city lords focused primarily on searching for resources, while also taking in survivors they happened to encounter nearby.
When this world became more dangerous, the Safe City would leave.
Only the natives would be willing to stay behind, slowly searching for other survivors and organizing them.
Was the world mission issued by the Safe City the reason it chose Yu Zhitian?
Cheng Qisheng admired Yu Zhitian, but she was also certain that she would never do the same.
Her only goal was to live.
To live meant hope. To live meant the future. The desire to survive was an instinct shared by most people.
That was precisely why those few humans who were willing to trade their own lives for the survival of many others were all the more worthy of admiration.
Would Yu Zhitian succeed?
Cheng Qisheng didn’t know, so she decided to have Aether run the calculation.
“Understood, City Lord. Aether has completed the calculation. The probability of Dr. Yu Zhitian’s plan succeeding is 0.0000000001%.”
Cheng Qisheng sighed.
Aether floated in front of her.
“City Lord, you may inform her of this result. Upon seeing an almost impossible goal, Dr. Yu may rationally choose to give up and remain in the Blue Sea Safe City.”
“Aether, you don’t understand humans. You don’t understand someone like Dr. Yu.”
Cheng Qisheng patted its jellyfish-like head.
“She would only say: at least there is still a 0.0000000001% chance of success.”
At that moment, Cheng Qisheng seemed to truly realize that she was witnessing the end of another civilization—
—and also seeing, within that ending, a tragic song composed of brilliant souls.
“I need to speed things up.”
With her eyes closed, Cheng Qisheng chatted casually with Aether while rapidly scanning the crystal hunters she had sent out to explore. To be honest, it was a bit exhausting.
This place wasn’t Dark Star. The terrain and geography were completely unfamiliar to her. As the crystal hunters spread farther and farther out into distant regions, tracking through her believers’ positions became far less effortless than before.
It felt like working in a factory.
On Dark Star, everything was like a familiar assembly line—no thinking required, her hands and mind moved on instinct.
Velvet Star, however, was an entirely unfamiliar production line. Everything slowed down naturally.
Still, Cheng Qisheng pushed past one believer after another, focusing her attention toward the distant regions.
The believer closest to the direction of Yunbula Nation…
Time passed without her noticing.
Her entire focus sank into Velvet Star. Through the eyes of her believers, she crossed mountains, traveled along rivers, and passed small survivor bases scattered across the land.
Gradually, night fell.
Suddenly, Cheng Qisheng opened her eyes.
She had found it.
Then she fell into silence, staring at a particular group of believers.
“Gurgle gurgle…”
“Grab my hand… gurgle… ugh! So salty, gurgle…”
“Hold onto the wood! Don’t let go!”
In Cheng Qisheng’s “Creator God perspective,” she could see several young believers bobbing up and down in the sea.
Around them were only scattered pieces of driftwood. They were being tossed around by the waves, unable to control their bodies, repeatedly slammed under and pulled back up, desperately trying to grab anything they could reach.
Through the believer connection, she could confirm these were members of the “tour group.”
A sightseeing trip? A sea fishing trip?
So how did they end up in the ocean?
Cheng Qisheng watched the struggling figures in the waves and could only reach out mentally, patting their heads—essentially giving them a boost of “energy.”
The young believers immediately perked up despite the chaos.
“By the Creator God… gurgle gurgle gurgle…”
“Blessing! I have received the Lord’s… gurgle… blessing! Blue Sea shall endure—gurgle gurgle gurgle!”
At this point, they were practically drowning. This was really not the time to be shouting slogans.
Cheng Qisheng didn’t even know whether continuously granting “blessings” could keep replenishing their stamina, but given the situation, all she could do was keep patting their heads one by one.
It did help.
One of the believers managed to grab onto a piece of driftwood, then used it to reach another piece, struggling over to a companion so the person could at least lie on it and catch their breath.
The waves kept slamming into them. Under the night sky, the sea looked violently chaotic. Soaking in the water made them cold enough to tremble uncontrollably.
And yet, once they all managed to cling to pieces of wood, their first reaction was still to look up at the sky and smile through their shaking bodies.
They had survived. They had been saved by the divine.
They were genuinely overjoyed.
“The Lord has saved us!! Praise the Lord!! Achoo!”
One believer clung to the driftwood, shivering violently, teeth chattering nonstop—but still grinning:
“By the Lord… d-d-d-d… praise the Lord… d-d-d… hehe… d-d-d…”
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