The night cloaked the land in an oppressive darkness, the moon itself choosing to remain hidden behind a thick veil of clouds. Silence engulfed the area surrounding the Safehouse, a stillness so profound it seemed almost unnatural. Yet, amidst the heavy quiet, shadows began to stir.
A group of a dozen men crept toward the Safehouse, their movements measured, their breaths held. With subtle hand gestures, the leader—a scar-faced man named Cai Jun—split them into two teams. One group followed him to the reinforced front door, while the other circled to the back.
At the front, one of the men produced a piece of wire, sliding it deftly into the lock. Pressing his ear to the heavy steel, he began manipulating the mechanism, his skilled fingers working with an almost hypnotic precision. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he concentrated.
Meanwhile, the second team was busy at the rear of the building. They secured a grappling hook to a sturdy rope, launching it toward the second-floor railing. After a few tugs to confirm its hold, one man began the ascent. He reached the rooftop swiftly, scanning his surroundings for an entry point. His search proved fruitless—there were no accessible openings, no hidden weaknesses. Resigned, he descended to regroup with the others.
“Any luck?” Cai Jun asked, his voice low but sharp as the second team returned.
The climber shook his head. “Nothing. No way in from the roof. Should we try breaking a window?”
Cai Jun frowned, but nodded after a moment. “Fine. But keep it quiet. We don’t want to attract any attention.”
Armed with a glass cutter, one man approached a window and began scoring the surface. His effort, however, was in vain. After several minutes, he paused to inspect the glass more closely and froze.
“Are you kidding me?” he hissed under his breath. “This is bulletproof glass! Who the hell installs this in their house?”
Their attempts to find a weaker point proved equally futile. Every window, every panel of glass around the Safehouse was reinforced to an absurd degree. They exchanged uneasy glances.
“Could this be a government facility?” one of them whispered.
“No way,” another replied. “We’re too close to the city. It’s probably just some paranoid doomsday prepper’s hideout.”
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When the team reconvened at the front door, they shared their discoveries with Cai Jun. His expression darkened. “What about the lock? Any progress?” he demanded.
The locksmith, a wiry man with years of experience breaking into the unbreakable, looked up, his face drenched in sweat. “Boss, I’ve never seen anything like this. I can’t crack it.”
“What?” Cai Jun’s voice rose an octave in disbelief. “You’re telling me you can’t open a single lock?”
The locksmith shook his head, his pride stung. “This isn’t just any lock. Whoever designed it is operating on a completely different level. It’s beyond me.”
Cai Jun’s fists clenched in frustration. “Damn it! Retreat. Now.”
Reluctantly, the group melted back into the shadows, leaving the Safehouse unscathed.
Cai Jun was no ordinary thug. A convicted murderer, his reputation for ruthlessness had made him the kingpin of his prison. When the apocalypse hit, he and a band of fellow inmates had seized the chaos as an opportunity to escape. But the world outside was no less hostile—zombies roamed the streets, forcing them to seek refuge wherever they could.
The Safehouse had seemed like an easy target. From a distance, it looked like just another fortified home, and after a day of reconnaissance, they had assumed the lone man inside would be no match for their numbers. But now, Cai Jun couldn’t shake a growing sense of unease. Whoever lived here wasn’t just surviving the apocalypse—they were thriving in a fortress of their own design.
“This isn’t a house,” he muttered as they retreated. “It’s a damn bunker.”
The next morning, Bai Ze woke at his usual time, his internal clock honed by years of discipline. As was his routine, he made his way to the first floor to check the area outside. Through the bulletproof glass, the world appeared unchanged—a still, desolate wasteland. Yet something caught his eye.
A faint scratch marred the surface of one pane. His stomach tightened.
Inspecting the other windows, he found similar marks on several of them. It was subtle but unmistakable—someone had been here, testing his defenses.
He forced himself to breathe deeply, to think clearly. They hadn’t made it inside, which meant his precautions were held. Still, the knowledge that he had been targeted was unsettling. He resolved to stay vigilant, to make no outward sign that he had noticed.
Later that morning, he stepped outside to train, following his usual exercise regimen. Though his every move seemed casual, he remained acutely aware of his surroundings. He had no way of knowing how long these intruders had been watching him, but he intended to give them nothing to suspect.
Afterward, he returned to the Safehouse to eat breakfast with his companions. Through it all, his gaze never strayed far from the windows.
By nightfall, Bai Ze had already prepared for the possibility of another attempt. His earlier observation had prompted him to invest all his earned points into strength, bringing his attribute to a superhuman 33. Whatever these people planned, he was ready to face it head-on.
As the shadows deepened, his instincts sharpened. Just when he began to think the intruders might have given up, he spotted something—a flicker of movement outside the window.
