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

194: Chapter 194 The Light of HumanityThe tower was a concrete structure encased in alloy, coated with high-heat-reflective paint, which should have been resistant to high temperatures and rain.

But barely ten minutes after the acid rain began to fall, the tower’s facade began to fade and peel.

The white walls became mottled; pieces of the heat-resistant coating bubbled and curled, exposing the metal layer beneath, which was being gnawed away by the rain.

The technician in charge of inspections exclaimed, ’...The surface is blistering?’

Before he could react, a whole sheet of coating slapped off the next second, hitting the ground and splashing up acrid white smoke.

A faint creaking sound came from the building—it was the metal structure undergoing thermal expansion and contraction cracks due to the acid erosion.

The second-floor communications building of the Shelter was originally a makeshift structure, fitted with large areas of tempered glass.

When the raindrops hit the glass, they only made ripples.

But ten minutes later, the glass began to blur and turn white, like a frosted mirror that had been scratched, followed immediately by crackling fine fractures at the edges.

The outermost communications room window burst with a snap, and the acid rain seized the chance to seep into the indoor cable ducts, causing the power supply terminal to flash and short-circuit.

The lights went out.

The entire floor was immediately placed under lockdown.

Within just five minutes, the medical corridor of the Lanyan Shelter was already packed with people.

The broadcast did not stop, and the rain did not cease.

Wet clothes clung to wounds, mixed with dust and acidic rainwater, cutting into the skin like knives.

A young mother stumbled into the clinic doorway with a Child on her back; the Child had red, swollen eyes but couldn’t cry out, with a ring of fine yellow pus forming at the corners of its eyes.

She screamed hoarsely, ’Doctor! Please help him! He can’t open his eyes!’

Inside the medical team’s control console, the lights suddenly switched to emergency red.

Lin Sui rushed out of the door, putting on gloves while shouting orders:

’All new patients, line up in Zone B! Those with severe cases, tag them with yellow cards and send them directly to Group A!’

’Quick, bring the buffer solution to Zone One, and mobilize all medical volunteers!’

A volunteer medical student scrambled to pour the liquid into the acid-base neutralization station, the bottle trembling in their hands, nearly tipping over.

Lin Sui grabbed it: ’Don’t worry about the dosage, I’ll do it.’

’You just focus on—getting people inside and don’t let them rot out there!’

On bed number three, a middle-aged man had red rashes covering all his exposed skin, his whites were bloodshot, and he was dry-coughing uncontrollably from deep in his throat.

’I only stood outside for three minutes... just three minutes!!!’

He muttered, on the verge of losing control, as two nurses held his arms down tightly.

On the other side, a teenager was vomiting incessantly, lips cracked, spitting out a dark green liquid mixed with gastric juices, his face pale as paper.

The doctor pressed on the teenager’s chest while shouting through gritted teeth:

’He inhaled it! Open the negative pressure chamber!’

’If you’re any slower, his lungs will rot!’

[Clinical test data · Real-time upload]

Data alerts kept popping up on the monitoring panel:

PH: 3.5 (Severely acidic)

Aerosol index: Up 41%

Heavy metal particle monitoring: Chromium, nickel, and nitrate levels exceeded limits.

Probability of mucosal burns: 48% for long-term exposure.

Low-burn syndrome cases: 82 (increasing).

In a corner of the corridor, a middle-aged cleaner wearing a tattered mask was mopping the floor, tears streaming down his face uncontrollably.

’It’s not crying... this air... it’s so choking I can’t open my eyes.’

No one tried to comfort him. Because everyone else was the same.

Those wearing gas masks had red-rimmed eyes, and those with exposed skin were covered in red rashes.

This is acid rain. It is not tears of a natural disaster. It is the stripping away of humanity’s—last shred of illusion.

20 minutes later, the rain intensified, the speed and density of the drops increasing twofold. The monitoring data showed:

[PH value dropped to 3.0]

[Indices for nitric acid, chloride ions, and heavy metal impurities increased]

[Acidity is approaching the threshold of strong acid]

The rain, which was originally only mildly caustic, began to corrode metal railings, protective covers, and electrical connectors.

Even with just 30 seconds of exposure, one could clearly see pitting and yellow smoke being etched into the edges of the steel.

A patrolman’s helmet wasn’t secured properly, and raindrops splashed into the gap at his neck. In just 2 seconds—his skin immediately became red, swollen, and peeled, and he collapsed to the ground in pain.

[System alert · Emergency cutoff of surface power supply]

Monitoring tower corrosion progress: 47%

Communications building glass damage rate: 68%

Second zone lighting busbar: Burned out

Recommendation: Immediately seal off surface facilities

With the order given, the lights in the surface passageways of the entire Lanyan Shelter went out, leaving only a few backup warning lights flickering faintly in the rain.

The air was filled with an acid mist mixed with rainwater and hot iron, and a burnt smell like rotting flesh began to spread—as if the entire earth was being slowly boiled.

Duan Heng’s expression was calm, but his speech was rapid:

’All surface communication, meteorological, and monitoring hubs, move to underground zone four immediately.’

’Connect power supply to the backup cold pipeline loop.’

The acid rain poured down like a deluge, and a continuous sound of footsteps and panting echoed at the entrances leading to the underground of the Shelter.

A thin figure stumbled forward through the rain—an elderly man of about sixty, with a paralyzed teenager tightly strapped to his back with faded burlap.

The teenager’s legs were severely atrophied, his hands gripping the old man’s shoulders tightly, his face covered in rain and tears, indistinguishable whether from pain or fear.

The old man’s scalp was already burnt red, sweat and rain mixing as they streamed down his temples, his back turned white from the acid rain’s bite, his skin mottled and peeling as if scalded by boiling water.

But he didn’t stop. He just kept going, step by step, gritting his teeth, carrying his son forward.

Without a sound, without a cry. —That was the backbone of a parent determined to protect their Child even while walking through flames.

Two volunteers rushed forward, one trying to steady him.

The old man shuddered violently and said in a hurried, low voice, ’Don’t touch me. I’m covered in acid... if you touch me, you’ll get burned; don’t ruin your hands.’

His voice was not loud, but exceptionally clear. The few volunteers who were about to reach out froze instantly.

At that moment, no one spoke. The rain kept falling, pattering down. The ground was scalding, and the acid water steamed up into a choking mist.

But at that moment, the volunteer did not retreat.

He slowly unzipped his protective suit all the way, took off his disposable rain cape, and held up a piece of umbrella-shaped shielding cloth with a built-in heat-insulating layer, carefully—setting up a simple, not-so-sturdy canopy that could at least cover the old man and the teenager’s heads.

’You carry him. I’ll... block the rain.’

The old man’s eyes instantly turned red, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and he said nothing. He just nodded slightly, then continued to walk—like an old wolf carrying the whole world on its shoulders, yet still gritting its teeth and pushing forward.

In the command room, the damp smell had already seeped into the crevices of the equipment casings.

Lin Sui pressed down on her communication headset, one hand gripping the table tightly, the other hand still constantly coordinating on the keyboard.

The sound of rain poured into the microphone, as if the whole world was tearing at her ears.

Her voice was already hoarse: ’We are not afraid of the wind and rain. What we fear... is that even the temporary boards we use to hold on will shatter, piece by piece, in this rain.’