Chapter 160: The Rain Has Stopped

As Jiang Yan crawled out of the “dog hole” she’d carved with her heavy machine gun and fire axe, Ye Qing’s figure appeared not far from the entrance to Warehouse One.

He gripped a submachine gun tightly, his eyes sweeping the surroundings with vigilance.

When he caught sight of the rows of glass cases filled with formalin and corpses, his pupils visibly contracted.

But unlike Jiang Yan, who had instinctively jumped away, he actually walked closer, frowning as he carefully examined one of the male corpses.

“Ye Qing,” Jiang Yan called out proactively, then strode quickly toward the exit.

The exaggerated gas mask she’d worn earlier was already stowed away, replaced by her usual dull gray face mask.

Ye Qing clearly saw her. “Jiang Yan!”

“Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?” Seeing her covered in blood and dust, a barely noticeable trace of worry flashed in his eyes.

“I’m fine. Let’s talk outside.” Jiang Yan shook her head and gestured with her gun toward the door.

Not only was the scene in this room eerie and disturbing, but the smell was also unbearable.

Even just exchanging a few words, you could feel a burning sensation in your throat.

Ye Qing glanced behind her, but all he saw was a pitch-black room. “You checked inside? Nothing unusual?”

“No, it’s just an empty room. Their supplies aren’t stored here.” Jiang Yan shook her head, downplaying it.

Logically, Zhao Nianzu’s group had collected not only screened survivors from various residential blocks, but also supplies—food, water, jewelry handed over by individuals, and those enormous mutant leeches, among other things.

But clearly, none of those were stored in this warehouse.

Which could only mean they had another, separate storage facility.

As they spoke, the two of them had already reached the entrance to Warehouse One.

Ye Qing let out an “oh,” glanced at the rain outside, then looked at the submachine gun in Jiang Yan’s hands. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he said, “Jiang Yan, the people on the roof—did you kill them all?”

He’d made his way up without encountering much resistance.

But in the draughty lobby at the top, he’d found a heap of corpses, sprawled every which way.

There were quite a few.

But none of the bodies had any weapons on them.

And since Jiang Yan only had a submachine gun on her, he didn’t press the issue.

Besides, that fireball earlier was clearly caused by an explosion.

But how had a group of people ended up being blown up in midair, about ten meters from the wall? That wasn’t a simple feat.

No matter how good Jiang Yan’s marksmanship was, she couldn’t have done it alone.

Even if you added Sun Jingtao and the others, without some kind of external equipment or help, it would have been impossible.

“Not exactly,” Jiang Yan replied, looking puzzled. “It seemed like their negotiations broke down and a firefight broke out. I just happened to benefit from it. By the time I jumped down from the ceiling, most of them were already dead or wounded. As for the explosion, it was weird—almost like they all had explosives strapped to them.”

She certainly couldn’t say she’d had help from a powerful man-eating plant, so she chose to lie, keeping her explanation vague.

She didn’t mention the white-haired old man, Mo Siyao, Zhao Nianzu, or the others at all.

Clearly, now wasn’t the time to talk about them.

As for the late-night meeting, there was no need for her to explain—after all, Ye Qing and the others had obviously seen the two helicopters land and take off.

“There’s still another floor above. Let’s check it out—maybe the supplies are up there,” Jiang Yan said, turning toward the spiral staircase.

Ye Qing grunted in agreement and quickly followed.

“Oh, by the way, Jiang Yan, did you see the people who left by helicopter? They didn’t seem to be heading in the same direction.”

“No,” Jiang Yan replied, then changed the subject. “How are Sun Jingtao and the others?”

Ye Qing recounted what they’d seen along the way.

Afterward, he analyzed, “It looks like they were conducting some kind of experiment—a very strange one. There must be someone backing these people, or some other force supporting them. They couldn’t have pulled off something this big on their own.”

And that backing was likely more than just Xue Miaomiao.

“Maybe,” Jiang Yan replied noncommittally, wiping the rain from her face.

They had already reached the upper floor.

Though they chatted quietly, their vigilance never wavered.

Guns at the ready, they swept their eyes in every direction, only to find that this floor was just an empty steel-framed structure.

Scattered bits of trash and marks left by large boxes being moved littered the steel-plated floor.

It looked like this had been the supply depot.

But the supplies had already been moved elsewhere.

The two exchanged a glance and sighed silently.

“Let’s head downstairs and regroup with Sun Jingtao and the others.”

“Alright.”

One after the other, they turned and went downstairs.

In Ye Qing’s view, even though they hadn’t found the supplies, at least the villains had been wiped out. At the very least, Qianshui Bay would have a period of peace.

Speaking of Qianshui Bay, he suddenly remembered something. “By the way, Jiang Yan, did you see Ma Longbiao and that scar-faced guy who’s always with him?”

He’d looked over the corpses in the lobby earlier, but hadn’t seen Ma Longbiao.

The guy was short, fat, and dark-skinned—very recognizable.

Same with the scar-faced man.

But clearly, neither of them was among the dead.

If those two had escaped, then this couldn’t really be called a complete victory.

“Ma Longbiao… I think he died in the shootout. As for Scarface, I didn’t see him—maybe he wasn’t here,” Jiang Yan said, narrowing her eyes as if recalling.

After explaining, she lifted the tactical flashlight on her submachine gun and shone it into the rain, then extended her palm.

Seeing Jiang Yan reach out to catch the rain, Ye Qing frowned. “Jiang Yan, what are you doing?”

“Ye Qing, have you noticed? The rain’s getting lighter,” Jiang Yan said, the corners of her mouth curving up, a hint of joy in her eyes.

When they’d just come out of the lobby, the rain had been heavy.

It had stung when it hit your face, like it was mixed with tiny stones.

But now, the pain was gone, replaced by a soft patter.

And the rain in the glow of the lights was clearly much thinner.

Ye Qing reached into his backpack and pulled out the hand-crank flashlight Jiang Yan had given them. Slinging his submachine gun over his shoulder, he grabbed the railing with one hand and leaned out to look.

“Jiang Yan, the water level hasn’t risen at all!” After a few seconds of observation, Ye Qing’s eyes lit up with delight.

The inflatable boat they’d left earlier was still at the same spot against the outer wall.

“No, it’s not just that the water level hasn’t risen—the rain is stopping.”

Jiang Yan extended her palm again, the corners of her mouth unconsciously lifting.

It was almost magical.

Just a moment ago, the rain had still been falling in a steady patter, but now, all at once, it was gone.

The rain had stopped."