Chapter Eighty-Two: The Same Era, Different Civilizations

This rare intact residential district, found with great difficulty amidst the ruins, stood quietly on the remote outskirts of the city. Perhaps it was precisely because of this seclusion that it had escaped the ravages of war and chaos. The supplies gathered over more than a month were enough to sustain them here for some time.

By rough calculation, the small team had not stepped outside for a week now. Every day, the four of them nestled within the dark, unpowered duplex villa, enjoying a rare period of relative peace.

Cao Fusheng’s goal was simple: to break through the blockade of the zombie horde surrounding ZZ City. Yet even now, he had not managed to approach the city’s edge. He had no idea what the true situation was on the other side.

He had cleared out almost every available space in his dimensional storage, filling it with as much metal as he could. It must have been several tons, but he still didn’t know how long these reserves would keep it running once they entered the Sky Pillar.

“Brother Cao, let me take the watch. You should get some rest,” Shen Dong said softly, emerging quietly from his room as Cao Fusheng was deep in thought.

So far, neither Gao Yi nor Shen Dong or Han Shuqing had shown any odd behavior. The life-and-death experiences of these past days had only strengthened the team’s cohesion. Gao Yi, too, had truly integrated into the group; whenever they went out to work, he was always at the forefront.

However, there was one small flaw—he and Shen Dong never quite saw eye to eye. Their bickering had become a daily routine. But that hardly mattered; at least there was no real conflict. Their banter was just a way to pass the time. In this age of ruin, if you couldn’t find anyone to talk or argue with, it would indeed be lonely.

“Don’t mind me, you get some rest. I’m just thinking about tomorrow’s plan,” Cao Fusheng replied, rubbing his temples.

Even now, the image of the silver-haired, crimson-eyed girl would occasionally flash through his mind. Only after losing her did he realize how much he missed her.

The door creaked open, and Gao Yi came out of his bedroom, sitting silently beside Cao Fusheng.

Soon, Han Shuqing quietly descended the stairs, standing behind Cao Fusheng to gently knead his shoulders.

“Captain Cao, the bloodshot in your eyes is getting worse. You can’t just keep toughing it out like this. We all know how hard that incident hit you, but what’s past is past—you can’t let yourself fall apart,” Gao Yi offered in comfort.

“Xiao Bing is watching you from above. She wouldn’t want you to stay in this state. For over a month now, everyone can see the weight on your heart. You haven’t smiled, just mechanically leading us through each day,” Shen Dong added.

Cao Fusheng spoke softly, “Enough, let’s not talk about it anymore. What concerns me most now is ZZ City. I have a mission—I must enter the Sky Pillar, but I haven’t even reached its outskirts yet. I’m considering whether it’s time to move.”

The others were already aware of Cao Fusheng’s intention to go to the Sky Pillar; they had discussed it many times on the road. But the consensus was always that it was too dangerous—a place where one could easily lose their life. At the time, they were still wandering, without even a foothold, so Cao Fusheng had put the idea aside.

But now, time was running short. Action was necessary. If the Sky Pillar went dark before they reached it, the result would still be death.

“Gao Yi, how much do you actually know about the Sky Pillar?” Cao Fusheng asked, glancing at the burly man beside him.

Aside from him, Shen Dong and Han Shuqing had always been in the Solitude Gathering Zone before, so their understanding of the Sky Pillar was limited to the most basic information. As for Cao Fusheng, a year’s blank period meant the world had changed drastically—gathering zones everywhere, and the Sky Pillar had long since been occupied. It was almost impossible for outsiders to enter now.

In the early days of the ruined era, you could still see scattered groups of survivors roaming the streets, but now, such encounters were rare. Most had either perished or joined various gathering zones and teams.

Gao Yi responded obliquely, “Back when our Snow Phoenix Squad was stationed at a military base, we held out until the base was overrun and communications cut off. We fought our way out. I don’t know much about the Sky Pillar myself, but our captain mentioned it once. I can’t vouch for the accuracy, since she’d never been there either.”

“That’s fine. Even rumors are useful—tell me what you know.”

Perking up, Gao Yi was eager to talk—he hadn’t had the chance to chat and tell stories in ages, always busy running for his life. Now that someone was asking, he was happy to oblige.

“If anything’s off, don’t blame me. I’ve heard the Sky Pillar is run like a big corporation—or maybe a government, split into three tiers: upper, middle, and lower. The Sky Pillar is tall, hundreds of floors, and the population is divided into three classes.”

“In the beginning, they used the old world’s criteria—status, wealth, that sort of thing. But once the place filled up, ordinary people could only rise through merit. The higher your level, the better your benefits. Inside, they have schools, hospitals, canteens, markets, shopping centers—an oasis above the wasteland.”

“This merit system is based on your contributions to the Sky Pillar; daily work is just survival, not counted. No matter who you were before you entered, or your family connections, once inside, everyone is allocated separately.”

“Children usually go with their fathers, unless they’re still nursing, in which case they stay with their mothers. After that, your woman might be assigned to someone else as a wife. The—well, the pairing of men and women is strictly regulated. Normally it’s random, though there are special circumstances for exceptions.”

“So if you’re hoping for someone from the bottom to marry into the top and rise in one leap, forget it. That’s what they call the Sky Pillar bloodline hierarchy. Damn, they even brought in bloodlines—who knows what those people are thinking.”

As Gao Yi spoke, he suddenly cursed, clearly frustrated or unable to comprehend the Sky Pillar’s obsession with bloodline allocation.

“No, if bloodlines matter, then the Sky Pillar’s highest policies must be more complicated than that,” Cao Fusheng replied, frowning.

“I read in the Survivor’s Log that the Sky Pillar could hold at most ten thousand people. But if it’s as you say, it must be far more.”

Gao Yi scoffed, “Ten thousand? Not a chance! That’s just to fool survivors who haven’t been inside, to make them think there’s no more room. From what I know, the real number is several times higher.”

“Go on,” Cao Fusheng encouraged.

Lowering his voice, Gao Yi continued, “Actually, all the Sky Pillars are connected. When humanity first moved in, they found that each Pillar had its own special communication methods. So while we’re out here scrambling for survival, building camps, and running gathering zones, they’ve already established global communications—though I don’t know how.”

“Here’s another question: are there really ninety-nine Sky Pillars?” Shen Dong interjected.

“That…I’m not sure. Our captain never mentioned it. But one thing’s certain: the technology inside the Sky Pillar is way ahead of ours. How far, I can’t say, but our best stuff out here—like noise-reducing war wagons—are just junk to them, not even worth using.”

“Junk? The ruined era has only lasted a year and a half—how could their technology have advanced so far?” Cao Fusheng was truly astonished. If what Gao Yi said was true, then the Sky Pillar was on an entirely different level from the outside world.

At least, in terms of technological civilization, they were worlds apart.