There was no sunlight in the room underground, and when Yanagihara woke up half-lying on the edge of the bed, she could only take out the pocket watch in her pocket and look at it to determine the time.

Eight o'clock in the morning, which was a lot later than her biological clock, if she could still be considered a living being.

But considering that she was tossed by Liz until the early hours of the morning yesterday, this situation is acceptable.

Oh, they were just playing the drums and nothing else.

Yanagihara learned some musical instruments, in the pre-disaster period.

But I have to say that she hasn't touched these things for a long time, and if it weren't for her good memory, I'm afraid she would have forgotten that bit of knowledge a long time ago.

Looking at the messy room in front of him in silence, Yanagihara rubbed his brow a few times.

To be honest, she regretted it a little.

It's hard to imagine that she actually agreed to Liz's request to invite her to a concert yesterday out of impulse.

Is madness contagious?

Yanagihara wasn't sure if she was still sane now, she only knew that at the moment, in addition to regret, she actually had some expectations in her heart.

Looking forward to the mischievous concert that Liz described.

I have to admit that it could be a lot of fun.

But what is it?

Yanagihara couldn't figure out why she should have focused on heading east.

Since when did she subconsciously choose to stay?

Turning his head to look at Liz and Al lying on the bed, Yanagihara was silent for a moment, half loud, and sighed softly.

"Don't make any noise, let me sleep a little longer."

At this moment, Liz rolled over in a whisper, and one hand was unconsciously stretched out and rested on Yanagihara's chest.

Then she squeezed her palms again in a half-dream, paused for a moment, and said blankly.

"Hey, how can there be a steel plate here?"

"Tsk!"

Sure enough, I just thought too much about it.

Yanagihara came back to his senses, slapped Liz's restless hand away with a dark face, and silently got up and straightened his coat.

She was going to go outside and bring in the supplies from the car.

After all, the ruins are full of refugees, and even if there are sirens, you can't leave things there all the time.

······

By the time Liz and Al woke up, it was already around ten in the morning.

Yanagihara prepared breakfast and sat at the table looking at the plan that Liz had given her yesterday for the concert.

"I really didn't expect that one day I would be able to enjoy the high-end service of getting up and having breakfast, Yanagihara, you are really virtuous."

Liz looked at the meat soup on the table, smacked her mouth with a smile, and walked over to her homemade snow water purifier to wash her hands briefly.

Al, on the other hand, sat directly at the table with a rabbit doll in a sleepy eye, and after spending a long time with Yanagihara, her living habits have become worse.

"Didn't your parents cook for you?"

Listening to Liz's words, Yanagihara drooped his eyes and mercilessly pointed out the loopholes in her words.

"My mother ran away with another man when I was three years old."

Liz wiped her hands with a rag and the same smile on her face.

"As for my father, he's an electrical engineer who only comes home once a week, so how can he have time to cook for me?"

"And then?" Yanagihara flipped through the plan book and continued to ask flatly.

"When I was 16 years old, he died in an engineering accident." Liz shrugged her shoulders and sat down at the table with three clean iron bowls.

This should have been a very tragic past, but for the three people present, it seemed to have become a matter of accustomation.

Yanagihara and Al didn't specifically apologize, and Liz didn't show the slightest bit of mood swings.

The three of them just filled the broth and drank the food quietly, which could even be said to be a little difficult to swallow.

It is no exaggeration to say that if you don't take into account the stomach and storage factors, this kind of greenhouse-made jerky is really an extremely poor ingredient.

"When we're done, let's go to the ruins, I remember there are a few places where I haven't tested the line."

Gulping down half a bowl of broth, Liz wiped her mouth and looked up at Yanagihara and said.

Then, she turned her gaze back to Al.

"Little Al can stay here if you don't want to go, but remember, we have the key, so don't open the door to whoever knocks."

"I understand that." Al nodded slowly.

"But can't I go with you?"

"Uh." The smile on Liz's face froze. In fact, as crazy as she is, she doesn't want to risk it with a child.

However, the next moment, Yanagihara had already spoken.

"Let her follow, she'll take care of herself."

This is Yanagihara's trust in Al, and it is undeniable that the girl has some basic qualities to survive on the ice field for a few months.

"Okay." Seeing that Yanagihara didn't mind, Liz could only spread her palms and said with a raised brow.

"It's your own business anyway, I don't care."

"Anyway, I'll leave my escort to you."

After eating, the three of them got their gear on and left the basement where Liz was paired.

The weather outside wasn't too good at this time.

There was light snow in the sky, and these white "dusts" covered the ruins, making this once-glorious city look like a frozen corpse.

"So, let's get started." Liz smiled and put a pair of gloves on her hands.

"We're going to have a surprise for it before the blizzard arrives."

Let's have a crazy party together.

It will be in the darkness, and it will be in the eyes of all people, and it will send an invitation to dance with the devouring disaster.

This is the etiquette of human beings.