Ch'en:
Due to unforeseen circumstances, we were forced to abandon the village and wander the Snowfield.
Though we can no longer care for the elderly couple, I secretly left a substantial sum of Victorian gold coins hidden in their clothing—enough to cover their living expenses for at least five years.
I hope I can bring them to live with us within that time.
The blizzard is fierce; we've been stuck here for two days already. But Jeanne says we must wait another three days before setting out again.
At times like these, trusting her is always the right choice. Otherwise, just the two of us would be struggling to survive in that cave.
I seem to be growing more and more reliant on her. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I distinctly remember wanting her to go to Lungmen.
After all, she's different from me and Alina. She has the right and the ability to pursue freedom and her dreams.
She deserves a better life than being stuck in this abandoned village on the Snowfield like us. No, I need to go and persuade her again soon.
Speaking of which, this village gives us an unsettling feeling, but I can't quite put my finger on what's wrong with it.
I have a premonition, Ch'en. If I can uncover what happened here, I might gain some direction for my own future.
Oh, and about that voice in my head—it's been quieter lately. I still hear it occasionally, but it sounds weak and listless, as if that thing is utterly exhausted.
But it's nothing to worry about. Everything on my end is moving in a positive direction. Take care of yourself and don't worry about me.
Talulah
After finishing the letter, Talulah sealed it in an envelope and tossed it into a small box. It was already quite full of letters.
None of the letters Talulah wrote were ever mailed. Her grandmother used to nag her, saying it was a waste of paper and ink to write letters she never sent.
The blizzard outside had been raging for two days, showing no signs of abating.
Fortunately, they had ample food supplies; after all, they hadn't fled in a panic. And the village certainly had no shortage of firewood.
Thanks to the village's remaining resources, they managed to weather this difficult time surprisingly well.
The only real discomfort came from the hard floor. The mattress they found was too stiff to sleep on, so they had to make do by layering their clothes over blankets.
Jeanne and Alina were in the kitchen preparing lunch. It wasn't that Talulah wanted to slack off; according to Jeanne, her cooking had "the flair of an abstract art piece."
As for what "abstract art" meant, Talulah had no idea. But after tasting her own cooking, she vowed never to set foot in the kitchen again unless starvation threatened.
Okay, perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration. But perhaps because her Originium Arts also involved flames, she always unconsciously cooked with intense heat. The result was a pot of pitch-black, unidentifiable goo that even she couldn't guess what it was.
She gazed out the window at the sky, where dark clouds completely obscured the sun, the grayness making it impossible to discern its true color.
Seeing the sun during the snowy season was a rare occurrence. In all her years, she had witnessed it no more than five times.
"Talulah, dinner's ready!"
Hearing Alina's voice, Talulah perked up immediately. She quickly rose to prepare for the meal, reminding herself that no matter what else was important, a good meal was paramount.
As they were eating, Jeanne faintly sensed something rapidly approaching. She immediately activated her Ruler-class privilege.
Although there were no servants on this continent, this privilege allowed her to detect Originium fluctuations within a five-kilometer radius.
She discovered a large Originium-powered truck barreling toward the village through the blizzard.
"What's wrong, Jeanne? What's happening?" Alina asked, noticing Jeanne setting down her utensils and staring intently out the window.
"Quick, pack everything up! Someone's coming!" Jeanne urged, her voice urgent. A vehicle barging through the blizzard at this hour seemed highly suspicious.
They scrambled to move their belongings to the attic upstairs, hastily restoring the house to its usual disheveled state before hiding inside, silent and still.
A moment later, the wooden door was violently kicked open. Several pairs of military boots scuffed across the floor as voices echoed through the room.
"Be careful when you kick the door open! If you break it, we'll be eating wind out here!"
"If it's broken beyond repair, we'll just find another one. No need to get so fussy."
"Is there a single house in this village you haven't ransacked yet? Never mind, it's just a temporary shelter anyway..."
"Damn this weather! This Ursus-cursed snow season had the nerve to start right before our operation!"
"Well, those Kaluo Village scum got lucky, catching the start of the season. Let them enjoy a few more good days."
"Exactly! Hey, 152, hurry up and get the fire going! Are you trying to freeze us to death? You've got the work ethic of a dead man! If you keep slacking off, don't expect any food from me. I'll replace you on the spot!"
"Coming, coming, sir! I'm working on it. The firewood's a bit damp, though, so it's taking some effort to get it going..."
Judging by the voices and footsteps below, there were about six people. Without being able to see what was happening below, it was impossible to tell whether they were a trade caravan or an Inspection Team.
Judging from their conversation, this group was definitely no good! Moreover, they seemed to visit this abandoned village frequently.
What particularly concerned Jeanne and Talulah was the man referred to as "152." It was clearly not a person's name but some kind of code name.
What exactly was his identity? Was he a test subject, a slave of some faction, or an Infected? Was he friend or foe?
Before long, 152 lit a fire. The others retrieved their prepared provisions and began cooking, keeping him at a distance.
It seemed he was an Infected serving as their subordinate. These people, who clearly discriminated against Infected, were willing to brave such heavy snow to bring him along, suggesting he still had some value to them.
Taking advantage of their focus on cooking by the fire and their inattention to the outside, Jeanne signaled Talulah and the others to stay put. She slipped out the window to scout the area.
Though Talulah worried and wanted to join her, she knew the group could return at any moment. She could only urge Jeanne to be careful and stay safe.
Jeanne gently pushed open the window and slowly climbed down. Taking advantage of a momentary lapse in attention, she leaped to the ground.
Through the window, she carefully observed the room. Inside were five figures dressed entirely in black, likely members of the Infected Inspection Team.
Across the room by the stairs stood a pitifully thin man, his ankles shackled with heavy iron chains. He couldn't possibly reach the others.
The black shards embedded in his arm confirmed his status as an Infected.