Chapter Six: The Roar of the Rusted Factory

In the latter half of the night, cold seeped through the cracks of the warehouse, carrying the pungent scent of machine oil. Tao Zui drew the little girl closer to her chest and leaned against the icy machinery, maintaining a half-awake vigilance. In the darkness, her hearing was magnified; outside, the mutated creatures howled, distant metallic screeches echoed, and even the scurrying of rats in the corners was strikingly clear.

In the hour before dawn, an unusual roar shattered the silence. The sound was deeper and fiercer than that of ordinary mutants, laced with a metallic grinding so sharp it made the teeth ache, as if some colossal beast was tearing through steel.

Tao Zui snapped her eyes open, gripping her M1911 tightly. The little girl beside her was startled awake, shrinking into Tao Zui’s embrace, her small hands clutching desperately at her sleeve.

“Don’t move,” Tao Zui whispered, her voice barely audible. She carefully shifted behind a barricade of machine parts, peering through the gaps.

At some unknown point, the warehouse doors had been forced open, letting moonlight spill in and outlining a massive silhouette. It stood roughly three meters tall, its body a grotesque patchwork of rusted metal and decaying flesh. Its arms were two twisted steel rods, with shattered chains dangling from their ends, and every step it took dragged the chains with an ear-splitting clatter.

It was an Iron Corpse—a rare mutation said to arise from infected individuals exposed to radioactive metals, its shell as hard as iron, impervious to ordinary bullets.

Its head was half a rusted safety helmet, inside which a cloudy eyeball rolled, scanning the warehouse aimlessly. A low growl rumbled from its throat, and the chains whipped around, smashing a pile of abandoned gears with a thunderous crash.

The little girl stifled a sob, covering her mouth as tears welled in her eyes but dared not cry out.

Tao Zui’s heart raced. The Iron Corpse’s armor was formidable; her thirteen remaining bullets were nowhere near enough, and her knife would be useless—a frontal fight meant certain death.

She quickly scanned her surroundings, her gaze settling on a half-open elevator shaft at the far end of the warehouse. It was an old freight elevator; the shaft was pitch black, its usability uncertain, but it was at least a place to hide.

“Stick close to me. Don’t take a single step away,” Tao Zui commanded, her tone brooking no argument. She scooped the girl into her arms, right hand gripping her pistol, left hand drawing the knife and clamping it between her teeth.

The Iron Corpse sensed the movement and spun around, its cloudy eye fixing on the barricade. With a roar, it charged, chains dragging behind, smashing machinery to pieces as it came.

“Run!”

With a low shout, Tao Zui burst from behind the barricade, sprinting toward the elevator shaft. Her steps were swift and light, and the cluttered floor posed no obstacle. The little girl squeezed her eyes shut, burying her face in Tao Zui’s shoulder.

The Iron Corpse howled behind them, its chains whipping through the air, striking the ground and sending shards flying, narrowly missing Tao Zui’s head.

Ten meters remained.

Tao Zui suddenly rolled sideways, dodging the steel rod that swept toward her. It crashed into a nearby shelf, sending it toppling with a thunderous crash and scattering parts that blocked the creature’s path.

She seized the moment and scrambled onward.

Five meters.

The Iron Corpse shoved aside the fallen shelf and resumed its pursuit, quicker than its bulk suggested.

Three meters.

Tao Zui could see the black mouth of the elevator shaft now. She thrust the girl inside her arms, gripping her tightly, then rammed her body against the decayed elevator door.

With a clang, the door burst open, releasing a wave of heavy rust.

Just then, the Iron Corpse’s chain lashed out, wrapping around her ankle. The immense force pulled her off balance, sending her tumbling backward.

In a split second, Tao Zui released her grip on the girl and pushed her toward the shaft. “Jump in!”

Terrified, the girl trembled but obediently leaped into the darkness.

The chain tightened, dragging Tao Zui toward the monster. The rough ground scraped her leather jacket open, stinging her skin, but her gaze remained cold.

She freed her right hand, snatched the remaining bottle of alcohol from her waist, pulled the stopper, and hurled it toward the Iron Corpse. At the same time, she bit open her lighter and flicked the flame.

The fire arced through the air and fell onto the alcohol-soaked floor.

“Boom!”

Flames erupted instantly; though they couldn’t harm the Iron Corpse’s shell, they blocked its sight for a moment. The bottle shattered at its feet, fire splashed onto its body, provoking an enraged roar and halting it briefly.

It was the chance she needed.

Tao Zui yanked her ankle free from the chain—losing her boot in the process and leaving a deep, bloody groove in her skin. Ignoring the pain, she dove into the elevator shaft.

The sensation of falling hit her; she curled up mid-air, protecting her head. She landed with a thud onto something soft—old canvas and cotton from the past era.

The little girl scrambled over, hugging her arm. “Sister, are you alright?”

Tao Zui shook her head, struggling upright as a piercing pain radiated from her ankle. She shone her flashlight on the wound—deep and bleeding freely down her leg, staining the canvas.

The shaft was pitch black, illuminated only by the flashlight’s narrow beam. A rusted ladder clung to the wall, stretching upward into darkness.

Above, the Iron Corpse’s furious roars and the pounding of the elevator doors echoed, rubble raining down.

“Will it… come down?” the girl whimpered.

“Not for now,” Tao Zui panted. “The shaft’s too narrow; it can’t fit.” But she knew this was only temporary. The Iron Corpse’s strength was immense; sooner or later it would break through, and then they’d be doomed.

She had to find a way out.

Tao Zui directed her flashlight at the ladder. It was badly corroded; she couldn't tell if it would bear her weight. But there was no other choice.

“Can you climb by yourself?” she asked.

The girl looked at the steep ladder and nodded. “I can.”

Tao Zui tore a strip from her shirt and bound her ankle tightly to stem the bleeding. She clipped the flashlight to her waist, climbed up first, and tested the ladder’s stability. It wobbled but held.

“Follow me and hold on,” she instructed, beginning the ascent.

The girl followed, small hands gripping the ladder, inching upward step by step. Her movements were slow but steady, without complaint or tears.

After climbing over ten meters, Tao Zui suddenly halted. The flashlight beam revealed a transverse passage—a maintenance tunnel.

“Hide in there,” she told the girl, crawling in first.

The tunnel was narrow, allowing only one person to crawl at a time. Dust hung thick in the air, and after a short distance, a faint light appeared ahead.

Emerging from the tunnel, they found themselves on a narrow platform, which connected to the factory’s fire escape. Outside, the sky was dimly lit; distant howls of mutants could be heard, but the Iron Corpse’s roar was gone.

“Are we safe?” the girl asked, exhaustion in her voice.

Tao Zui didn’t answer, only scanned their surroundings with caution. The fire escape was deserted, filled only with the sound of wind. She leaned against the wall, slowly standing, wincing from the pain in her ankle, but she could still walk.

“Where are we going?” the girl asked again.

Tao Zui looked east, where the sky was tinged with dawn. She remembered what the one-eyed man had said: a large settlement called Fortress Rock lay to the east, guarded by former military personnel. Order was relatively stable, though entry was strict.

“East,” she replied.

Better to try her luck in a place with order than to continue dodging Iron Corpses and the Hyena Gang in the ruins. At least there might be doctors there to treat the girl’s fever and her own wound.

She did not know that shortly after she left the factory district, a man in black combat gear stood at the warehouse entrance. His left arm was wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage, his face smeared with drying blood—the stranger from the apartment block.

He surveyed the chaotic battlefield inside, eyes sweeping over bullet casings, blood stains, and scorch marks left by fire. A subtle ripple flickered in his deep black gaze.

He bent down to pick up something—a half-destroyed leather boot, torn by iron chains, its mouth stained with dried blood.

His fingers traced the boot’s edge, his expression sharpening. He raised his head, staring into the faintly bright eastern sky, a barely perceptible curve at his lips, cold and resolute.

Then he set off in the same direction as Tao Zui, his stride firm, unstoppable.

The one he sought lay ahead.

Meanwhile, Tao Zui walked with the little girl toward the east. She was unaware that a new encounter awaited her just ahead, and even less aware that this decision would draw her into a far greater storm.

Sunlight finally pierced the clouds, spilling over the ruined earth, yet could not penetrate the darkness lurking beneath. Tao Zui’s shadow stretched long in the morning light, her steps resolute, carrying a child and the weight of a heavy bond, moving toward the unknown eastern horizon.

To survive—not just for herself. For the first time, this thought emerged clear and unwavering in her mind.