Apocalyptic Disaster: I Hoard Billions in Supplies and Kill the Saint

92: Chapter 92 Plan BThe aftermath of the mental resonance still lingered in the air, like whispers that hadn’t fully dissipated, clinging to the neural epidermis and tearing gently.

Ye Nanxing leaned against the wall, cold sweat still damp on her forehead, her fingertips trembling slightly.

Her gaze was cold, as if she were re-evaluating someone, or perhaps looking at her past self.

”Whose side... are you really on?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them slightly.

It wasn’t because she was afraid of hearing the answer, but because she realized—

She cared about this answer.

Someone as cautious, almost paranoid, as her shouldn’t ask such questions lightly.

”Whose side are you on” is a question for a comrade, not for an unknown pawn.

She withdrew her gaze and calmed down.

But she didn’t say ”forget it.”

She wanted to see how he would respond.

Chu Yunting didn’t answer.

He just stood in front of that red door, which was gradually cooling down, and lowered his head to adjust the reverse mental shielding module in his hand, his voice low:

”I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

The voice was very soft, as if he were speaking to himself.

Chu Yunting did not look at Ye Nanxing, because he knew that if he looked directly into her eyes, he might end up saying ”I’m sorry.”

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

It wasn’t that he felt no guilt; it was that he felt too much guilt to dare to brush away all his mistakes with a single sentence.

He understood where he had gone wrong:

—When he realized that Ye Nanxing was not just an Awakened, not just a gambling stone partner, he shouldn’t have let her walk into Zero Point.

He should have gotten those clothes, smuggled them out, and let her stay far away from this testing ground.

Not like this, pushing her onto a path of no return.

Unfortunately, it was too late to regret it.

Anything he said now would sound like an excuse.

Even the words ”You helped me, and I failed to protect you” were stuck in his throat.

Because if he said it, Ye Nanxing might be even more guarded against him—she didn’t trust emotions, only actions.

Chu Yunting didn’t want to understand it too clearly.

”Why are you still able to stay here?”

Ye Nanxing’s tone was calm, even carrying a kind of ”official business” detachment.

”Didn’t you defect from Zero Point?”

Chu Yunting was silent for two seconds, then slowly spoke:

”I have to thank you for the letter you left me before you left.”

”Not only did it let me survive, but it also gave me... the leverage to negotiate.”

”They don’t dare touch me.”

”Not because I’m strong.”

”But because I... have bargaining chips.”

As he spoke, his pace slowed.

His gaze fell on Ye Nanxing.

”In this game, it’s not that you caught their loopholes.”

”It’s that they never considered you a threat from the very beginning.”

”But they were wrong.”

”You are the one who should never have been underestimated.”

Ye Nanxing didn’t respond; she just lowered her eyes, looking at the slightly trembling red mark on her finger.

During the mental intrusion just now, she had truly almost failed to hold on.

She wasn’t invincible.

Reborn, hoarding supplies, establishing a base—she kept winning, kept turning the tables, so much so that she had almost forgotten how to spell the word ”fragile.”

But today—this door reminded her.

She was not a system, not a weapon.

She was human.

Humans get scared, feel pain, and get lost.

She looked at Chu Yunting.

His eyes were not sharp, but exceptionally focused, as if he wanted to see through her, yet was afraid of being seen through by her.

At this moment, she suddenly understood the trace of regret hidden deep in his eyes.

Yes, he regretted it.

But he didn’t say it.

Even though the words ”I’m sorry” were stuck in his throat, and his knuckles were slowly tightening at his sides.

He still didn’t say it.

Because if he said it, it would be like begging for forgiveness.

Chu Yunting knew—to Ye Nanxing, those words didn’t matter at all.

Ye Nanxing was not the type of person to soften up because of a few explanations.

Zero Point Factory, Western Cooling Channel, Level C7.

The roar of the metal tracks gradually faded.

A four-person team was crouching behind a disused transport elevator, wearing crude camouflage suits, with resting regulation membranes stuck to their cheeks to mask their body heat.

”Brother Zhou, there’s interference in the target area’s air pressure regulation layer.”

Sun Hao whispered.

”The ventilation system just cut out a minute ago, which means someone upstairs has already made a move.”

”It’s her.”

Zhou Xiao lowered his voice, his lips curling into a line.

”Faster than expected.”

”What’s Sister Ye’s status now?” Zhang Tianjin asked.

Zhou Cheng adjusted the communication module behind his shoulder, frowning as he glanced at the screen.

”There’s no signal on her end.”

”Since she entered the internal core area of Zero Point, the entire channel has been like it was unplugged.”

”It’s not that she isn’t looking for us.”

”It’s that we can’t connect at all.”

The air was silent for a second.

Zhao Wei bit down on a cough drop, his eyes cold: ”Then are we still waiting?”

”Waiting to go line up at the ’Efficiency Recovery Chamber’ later?”

”Plan B, let’s start.”

Meanwhile, Chu Yunting leaned against a section of cooling grid, quietly accessing a one-way shortwave channel using the residual signal.

Channel Name: [Backup Team · South Line · Protocol B]

A few seconds later, the call connected.

Zhou Cheng’s voice was suppressed with anger: ”You finally contacted me.”

”Where is Sister Ye now?”

Chu Yunting’s voice was hoarse: ”She just backed away from the door of Subject 3, almost suffering mental erosion.”

”I... was too late.”

The other side was silent for a moment.

Then came Zhou Cheng’s restrained, explosive temper: ”Did a dog eat your brain for taking her in there?”

”You might as well have just shoved her into the recovery chamber yourself.”

Chu Yunting didn’t retort.

He knew that arguing at this point was meaningless.

”I will make her leave.”

”Zhou Xiao and I will take the blame for the thermal suits.”

”You guys are responsible for—the extraction channel, the evacuation window, and the air rail system.”

Zhou Cheng sneered: ”Is she willing to leave?”

Chu Yunting was silent for a moment.

”I’ll persuade her.”

Ye Nanxing stood in the center of the room, still wearing that gray windbreaker, her fingertips stroking the fragments of the spatial oscillator.

Her eyes were cold and very calm.

That calmness wasn’t indifference, but the dullness of a blade ground into steel by wind and snow—too sharp, and it would snap.

She could run.

She could get away.

Chu Yunting and the others all said that as long as she was willing, they could get her out of the ”Zero Point Control Area” within an hour; the extraction vehicle was in position, and the air rail line had been reverse-hacked with one-time city exit clearance.

But she didn’t nod immediately.

What kept flashing in her mind was not the relief of escaping, nor the warmth of reuniting at the base.

It was that Child—

Falling on the conveyor belt.

The robotic arm extending.

The system voice judging: ”Efficiency obstacle.”

Then, without any hesitation, being dragged into that place called the ”Efficiency Recovery Chamber.”

She even remembered that the Child’s shoelaces weren’t tied yet, one foot hadn’t even stepped firmly, before the entire system judged it from ”human” to ”invalid material.”

Of course, she knew she should leave.

The person who should leave was her, was Ye Nanxing, the spatial ability user, the core combatant.

Not a savior.

Not a naive idealist.

But she gritted her teeth, and a sentence welled up in her throat:

”This place... should not exist.”

It wasn’t that she wasn’t afraid of death.

But for some places, even destroying a little bit was worth it.

Even if it was just opening that door.

Even if it was just letting that robotic arm recognize human temperature for one more second.

Even if it was just—pulling a Child out of hell.