I Have a Post Apocalyptic Online Friend C12.2

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Chapter 12. part 2

There were no taxis on the street, so she grabbed a shared bike as usual and headed toward the bus parking area.

The city’s dense, tall buildings obscured the view, making the smoke hard to see clearly.

Only when she reached the open suburbs did she realize the pink smoke was everywhere.

For now, it was still thin. Against the green grass lining the road, it created an almost romantic atmosphere, like something intentionally photoshopped into a wedding photo.

Zhou An’an didn’t let her guard down. She pulled a mask from her bag and put it on—a token layer of protection, better than nothing—and pedaled at full speed.

The streets were completely deserted—not even a dog in sight. She reached the bus without any trouble, shaving ten minutes off her usual travel time.

Zhou An’an immediately got inside, locked the door behind her, and took a moment to catch her breath before pulling out her phone to check the situation online.

The communication networks were still working. Many people had noticed the strange smoke and were posting videos of it.

Zhou An’an scrolled through posts from her city and from other cities as well.

From the comments, she learned that the same thing was happening in other countries.

This isn’t normal. Definitely not normal.

Could it be as Lu Yuan predicted? Has the type of disaster changed, increasing the difficulty?

She instinctively checked her body. She’d been breathing heavily while cycling and had no idea how much smoke she’d inhaled.

Fortunately, everything seemed fine.

She didn’t want to become a zombie. If the smoke contained a virus, she hoped it would just kill her outright rather than turn her into one of those ugly, mindless creatures.

The food in the bus was better than what she’d had at the hotel. For lunch, she made a bowl of sour soup noodles with a large apple, eating until she was full.

By afternoon, the smoke had almost completely blanketed the land, growing thicker and denser.

At first, she could still see the white smokestack of the power plant several kilometers away. Later, she couldn’t even make out the wall of the parking area, and visibility dropped to about ten meters.

The smoke no longer felt romantic; it had become viscous and disgusting.

The world seemed to be submerged in the blood plasma of some creature, making her afraid to take a deep breath.

The bus was well-sealed, relying on its onboard ventilation system for air circulation. A filter had been added during modifications, so the smoke concentration inside the cabin was lower than outside.

What exactly does this smoke do? It can’t possibly extend your life if you breathe it in, right?

She constantly monitored her body for any changes while relentlessly refreshing video sites for external information.

Dinner was a box of self-heating rice, which she ate hastily, having no real appetite.

As night fell, the smoke grew so dense it seemed to turn liquid.

Sound, light—nothing could be heard or seen.

It felt as if the entire world had been reduced to this bus and her.

Zhou An’an didn’t dare turn on any lights. After eating, she huddled under the covers, clutching her phone.

Refresh… refresh… A comment under a video caught her eye.

“Old Wang the Reviewer just spat up blood during his livestream!”

Old Wang the Reviewer was a well-known streamer who had continued to livestream these past few days, and there had been no reports of him having any health problems.

Zhou An’an immediately searched for his livestream channel and found it had been shut down. Fortunately, others had uploaded screen recordings.

In the video, his face had a faint bluish tint, and pink smoke drifted through the livestream room. With everyone trapped indoors, the online viewer count was unusually high—likely the reason he had insisted on streaming.

At the 3-minute, 56-second mark, he suddenly began coughing violently, appearing to struggle for breath as veins bulged all over his body.

After coughing for about half a minute, his eyes shot wide open, and he spat a mouthful of thick, fresh blood onto the camera, turning the screen crimson.

The livestream ended immediately after, leaving his subsequent condition unknown.

Was it a sudden illness, or a side effect of the smoke?

Countless people were discussing the incident. Around 9 PM, a second related video appeared and was frantically shared.

It was from an ordinary girl with only fifty-eight followers. Her account contained a few scattered videos sharing her daily life, but this one was horrifying.

The video showed a factory dormitory—a cramped six-person room. Amidst the cluttered background, a girl lay on the floor, her face obscured by long hair matted into clumps. Her clothes and the floor were stained red with blood.

Her roommates screamed and cried for help nearby. The videographer’s voice sounded like she was sobbing.

“She was fine just a moment ago, then she suddenly started spitting up blood—so much of it, it’s everywhere in the dorm! Then her eyes, nose, and ears started bleeding too. What do we do? What are we supposed to do?!”

Less than ten minutes after the video was posted, a third, a fourth… almost dozens of similar videos appeared.

It must be the smoke.

Will they turn into zombies?

Zhou An’an’s heart pounded as she watched. She put down her phone, closed her eyes, and carefully focused on her own body.

Aside from muscle stiffness from tension, she felt nothing unusual.

She sat up and pulled back a sliver of the thick blackout curtain.

Outside, it was still pitch-black and silent.

The frenzy online felt like it was happening in another world.

The 13th is almost over. Why hasn’t Lu Yuan come yet?

Her fingers tightened on the curtain, and she let out a deep sigh.

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