Naming Technique of the Night

Chapter 1172: Chapter 685: Hold the Line! Not One Step Back! (Part 3)

Now, watching the young man slowly grow into a towering tree that shelters everyone, he felt inexplicably happy, even though he thought he had no position to be happy at all.

“Everyone, find some clothes to wrap around your necks!” Zhang Mengchan shouted, “Pass this message to the other defense lines. The only place where a mouse can deliver a fatal bite is the neck’s artery. As long as you can protect it, everyone’s survival chances will greatly increase!”

This method was summarized by Zhang Mengchan’s experience, and it proved to be very effective.

Earlier, when Qing Chen was leading the refugees to escape, even if someone was besieged by the rat swarm, as long as the neck wasn’t bitten, losing a piece of flesh was not a problem.

Behind the defense line, there was a wail of despair. Five waves of rats had returned once more, leaving thousands of family members injured, half of whom were now on the battlefield, using strips of clothing to make rudimentary bandages.

Yet, these were the lucky ones. Over three thousand others had died instantly from bites to their neck arteries.

Xiao San was already exhausted, but upon hearing this, his eyes brightened, “Quick, quick, quick, Qing Shuli, gather people to collect scarves and clothes. The elders say the rat swarm will soon return, and we have only a few hours of rest at most, hurry to prepare!”

Qing Shuli snapped back to reality and quickly agreed, “Okay, I’ll light the bonfire and bring people over right away.”

After a fierce battle, everyone’s hair and clothes were dampened by falling snow, and the ground turned to mud.

All the family members urgently needed warmth and rest, otherwise, no one could withstand the next few days.

Once everything was settled, he had to go searching for clothing.

Even though he was exhausted to the limit.

The bonfire was lit, and Qing Shuli said to his family, “Let’s go collect clothing.”

As he spoke, he started to walk, but after two steps, everything went black, and most people didn’t notice that Qing Shuli hadn’t slept for more than thirty hours.

“Are you okay, Golden Family Member?” someone quickly helped him up.

Qing Shuli stood up and smiled, “I’m okay, let’s go find clothes.”

Just then, a few older women stepped out from the queue, “You’re all exhausted, take a rest. We’ll go home to get you some clothes; we have some at home.”

Xiao San was stunned, “You should quickly return to the queue, it’s dangerous here.”

“Don’t worry about this,” said one of the older women, as she turned to the long queue behind her, “Anyone with clothes at home, go and get some for the young men here!”

Many refugees in the queue were indifferent.

With millions evacuating, taking a slow pace meant death here, and everyone worked hard to get to the front of the queue—how could they be willing to leave?

Leaving means queuing all over again.

Upon hearing the older woman’s words, the refugees turned their heads and feigned ignorance.

The older women stood outside the line and shouted, “What life did we have before? Huh? We didn’t even have a scrap of electricity in our homes, living in the dark, gnawing on protein bars, using chamber pots because the toilets didn’t work, dumping them into street sewers every morning, stinking up the whole street.”

“Last month, garbage in District 3 was piled up into mountains, just walking past made you want to throw up. I live on the 91st floor, and my kid doesn’t want to go to school because there’s no elevator, forcing him to climb 91 stories.”

“All of District 3 was once filled with violence and looting, who dared to walk the streets at night?”

The older woman’s voice grew louder, “And now, look around, where isn’t clean except for this defense line? Who doesn’t have electricity? Whose sewers aren’t fixed?”

“Beside these fighting for you, who among you isn’t clean? Look at yourselves, and then look at them—fighting for your chance to evacuate, they even have to put on a fierce facade. You don’t even know their names, or if their families are like ours with parents and children.”

The refugees looked at Xiao San and others, seeing their bodies smeared with blood, some from rats, some their own.

The family’s clothes were stained with mud, torn and clawed by rats, their shoes soaked through.

They were an utter mess.

And looking back at themselves, they were only leisurely standing in line.

The older woman spoke more passionately as she continued, “Earlier, that big shot from Qing’s Family, he kept going out to save people. Think about him, and then think about yourselves—do you even deserve to be saved? Yet, you were fighting over your queue spots!”

Xiao San hurriedly stepped in, “Please, ma’am, go back to the line. We can find the clothes ourselves.”

The older woman glared at him, “Get lost! This is not your turn to speak!”

Xiao San: “…”

Qing Shuli: “…”

The other older woman spoke to the refugees in line, “Before they came, you kept asking who would save District 3. Now that they’ve come, all you think about is running. Yes, you can run now, but what then? When they’re dead, what do we do—continue living like dogs in the gutters? Living like dogs—is that the life you want?”

A young man stepped out of the queue, contemplating for a few seconds, “Let the women, children, and elderly go first, everyone.”

With that, he turned and went back home to get clothes.

As soon as he left, dozens of people emerged from the queue, rushing back to their homes.