The next morning.
Brian woke up early. He had just returned from outside the quarantine zone and still had things to do—especially since he had brought back a child. He needed to register the boy at the Management Center to give him a legal identity.
After a quick wash in the bathroom, he walked to the desk against the wall. On it sat a small writing board leaning against the wall.
He pulled the red string, flipped the board around, and hung it on a nail on the wall, revealing its front side.
On this small board, over thirty small papers were stuck with magnets. Each had a portrait—men, women, young, old. Among them, photos of Anna and Marlene stood clearly visible.
Under each portrait were brief notes: locations and times of appearance, residential zones—seemingly trivial information.
Brian pulled out the small notebook from his pocket, opened it to the first page—the drawing of the middle-aged man he'd made yesterday.
—Riiip!
He tore off the paper, grabbed a magnet from the corner of the board, and placed it in an empty spot.
After reinforcing the images in his mind, he flipped the board back over and walked out of the bedroom.
—Wake up.
He entered the living room, shook the boy sleeping on the sofa, then pulled out a piece of bread from his backpack and began enjoying his breakfast.
When they left, it was already eight in the morning. Brian led Chen Shi toward the Management Center in Zone F.
Today's main task: register the kid. He'd already filed the notice yesterday, so today he should get the documents. But just thinking about the tedious procedures made his head hurt.
On the way, Brian began explaining the basics of the quarantine zone to Chen Shi. Since the boy couldn't communicate with others, it was best to help him avoid mistakes.
Chen Shi listened quietly, suddenly feeling a strange sense of familiarity. It was as if he'd seen or heard something like this before.
Entering the Management Center, they submitted documents and completed formalities. Then came a series of checks and questions. Although the quarantine zone was willing to absorb outside survivors, verification was extremely strict—fearing that Resistance members might infiltrate under false identities.
Of course, for children, the process was much simpler, and obtaining legal status was easier.
Since Chen Shi couldn't speak English, Brian acted as his translator throughout. This special situation also meant Brian would be responsible for raising the child until he turned six.
During this period, Brian would receive an extra ration of supplies from the supply station. How much? Only heaven knew.
—Finally done. What a pain! —Brian said as they exited, wiping sweat from his forehead, staring at the documents. It hadn't been easy.
Beside him, Chen Shi also looked exhausted, but tugged at his sleeve.
—Where do we go now?
—Naturally, straight into the ocean of learning!
Brian glanced at Chen Shi, then a mischievous smirk crept onto his face.
Seeing that expression, Chen Shi suddenly felt a chill of dread.
To learn a language, good books were essential. But in this drastically changed world, even within the quarantine zone, places where you could freely pick books were extremely rare. Besides schools and early childhood centers—places ordinary residents couldn't enter—there was one other place specifically for adults.
Language barriers weren't uncommon in the quarantine zone. After all, pre-disaster America was called the "number one nation," attracting people from all over the world. After the collapse, the zone absorbed these groups, but language barriers made communication difficult, hindering the teaching of rules and management.
So, a dedicated language-learning center was established. The language taught was American English—mandatory, and of course, paid.
The staff weren't just multilingual; many were former translators or professionals who had been relatively successful before the disaster.
These issues were only common in the beginning. Five years later, almost no one had them. But to be safe, the center was kept open, though it was now semi-operational.
Currently, only people interested in languages came to practice.
—Go in.
Standing in front of a two-story building, Brian looked at the open door and said to Chen Shi.
This language center was next to the quarantine zone's only early childhood center, in a central location, very close to the school—prime real estate.
They walked in. Right in front, a young man in a brown shirt was half-asleep, leaning on the counter with his head propped on his hand.
—Tap! Tap!
—Hello!
Seeing the young man like this, Brian shook his head, tapped the counter a few times, and called out.
—Ah!
The sleeping man jolted awake, his head dropping for a second before he snapped upright. Seeing the people in front of him, he quickly wiped the almost-drooling saliva from his mouth.
—Y-you… hello, can I help you?
Brian placed his ID, certificates, and several supply cards on the counter, then stepped back, gently pushing Chen Shi forward.
—Teach this kid English. He's Chinese.
The man saw the supply cards and his eyes lit up. But when he saw the documents, his body trembled. He looked at Brian with deep reverence, pushed some cards back, and stammered:
—S-sir, you've given too many cards. We don't need this much.
—Keep them. These cards aren't free.
Brian waved his hand dismissively, pointing at Chen Shi's little head.
—Three months. I want results.
Hearing this, the man looked at the four-year-old beside Brian and hesitated.
—S-sir, learning depends on talent. I can't guarantee anything.
—Heh heh.
This response was exactly what Brian expected. He smirked, his tone suddenly turning cold.
—Assign him your best teacher. If in three months I don't see progress… prepare yourself for not returning from your next mission.
The man broke into cold sweat, his legs gave out, and he collapsed into the chair behind him.
—Remember, you have three months.
Brian gave the man a deep look, then turned to Chen Shi.
—From now on, you'll study English here. They'll teach you properly.
Hearing this, Chen Shi looked at Brian, then at the terrified man, his lips twitching. "I don't understand what you're saying, but you clearly just threatened him."
Ignoring Chen Shi's odd expression, Brian continued:
—You know where I live. I'll talk to the guards. From now on, come and go by yourself. Every morning before I leave, I'll put food in the cabinet in the living room. Take it when you're hungry. I have a lot to do these next few days—no time to babysit you. This'll be good training for your independence. Got it?
—…
—Damn, he's just dumping me here.
Looking at Brian's perfectly calm face and his long, self-justifying speech, Chen Shi could only stare blankly.
Suddenly, his eyes lit up. In a childish voice, he said:
—What if a bad guy kidnaps me?
—Kidnap you?
Brian gave him a strange look, then a smirk spread across his face.
—Don't worry. Kidnapping you would only get them wanted by the government and waste food. Zero benefit. You're safe.
—Alright, I'm off.
He ruffled Chen Shi's hair, laughed loudly, and walked out without looking back.
Leaving behind a four-year-old boy, who, with wide eyes, silently flipped him the middle finger.