"Who am I?" Channing or Rael?

In a darkroom in the slums, an emaciated teenager rises from his cold, moldy bed, his face pale and distorted, as if he was about to drown in a second. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

"Whew!" he took a deep breath, and after releasing his hand from the edge of the quilt that he was holding tightly, he reached out tremblingly and grabbed the rotten iron cup next to him, poured cold water into his mouth, and wiped the cold sweat that had already been drenched on his body. Survived.

Sitting on the edge of the rotten bed, the boy's eyes flickered and struggled, and one memory after another flashed through his eyes, as if something had happened in the last second. Zombies, lickers, the gun-toting resistance of the arcade and the light of the nuclear bomb that fell from the sky at the end.

"Trout Market, it's over. The young man muttered in his mouth, and there was still countless confusion in his black eyes. In the end, it was the will of the survivors of the apocalypse that prevailed. "Just like the raccoon market a few months ago. ”

Casually putting the freshly used forehead towel in his hand on the table, he looked at the bowl of cassava porridge that had already cooled and thickened a little next to the broken wooden table, and his throat couldn't help but swallow down the saliva that had become more secreted. A "grunt" belly sounded in my ears.

The stomach hurts. A virus called starvation began to invade every cell of him.

"How many days have you not eaten?" Feeling his thirst for food, Qian Ning frowned, and a memory of a teenager named Rael in his head involuntarily surfaced after he had this question.

It seems like two days. Scanning the layout of the room warily, he picked up the broken bowl with a weak, trembling hand and poured the food into his mouth without hesitation.

It's a bit thin and not as weighty as it seems on the surface. Qian Ning greedily chewed the few pieces of dried cassava in his mouth and nodded. The taste is not very good, but there is an indescribable soft and glutinous feeling.

The stomach pain has eased a lot, and I feel a little warm in my stomach. He chewed the few pieces of bitter dried potatoes in his mouth, and swallowed the little porridge paste that was still left in the bowl. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he put the bowl back on the table and burped half-full. Sure enough, the thirst for food is the same in all worlds.

Sitting back on the slightly warm bed, Channing leaned against the already moldy wall, calmly thinking about things about the world. Or rather, something known to the original owner of the body.

Sister Lena, a former slum in Station City, the Agre Gang. No, he shook his head in denial, and a few drops of sweat slipped down his forehead again, none of which he wanted. Also, that is, he shook his somewhat thin fist, this body is really weak.

After thinking carefully for a while, Qian Ning sat there quietly and leaned, although he could still feel a faint will to resist in his mind, but it was very small from when he first entered the young man's mind a few days ago. "What is the world really like?"

In the subconscious of a survivor, he instinctively kept thinking, his mind like a crowbar making the final pry on the last treasure chest in his mind. Resist.

It's just a pity that it's a little late. Little by little, the slum boy's defenses were crumbling. Bending his spasmodic fingers slightly, his face contorted in thought, the memory in his heart that seemed to have disappeared had now revealed a gap to him. The ruins of civilization, religious schools, martial arts halls, one picture after another came to mind like a movie projection.

And then there's the pain. Qian Ning reached out and slightly supported the green tendons that erupted at his temples. It was as if dozens of thin needles had passed through it, making him subconsciously tighten his brows.

In my head, the chaotic scenes didn't stop appearing, until another more intense tingling sensation hit.

"Hmm. With a muffled snort, Channing opened his mouth. He could feel that his consciousness had become somewhat dilated. Sober and illusory.

"It's the limit. He held on for a few more minutes, the last thought that crossed his mind.

The memories that had been excavated by himself came flooding up like a tide, and he looked at it little by little, his eyes open and out of focus. Fainted.

......

"You're awake. The light pierced into the gap where the eyelids opened slightly, Qian Ning shook his still somewhat dizzy head, and subconsciously looked at the current situation around him with his eyes.

"Sister Lena. A shadow of a busy person in the room came into view, and he opened his somewhat dry lips and exclaimed. The girl who had lowered her head to pack her things paused, turned around, and gave herself a bright smile.

"Since I don't have a fever today, let's go to school. Putting a bowl of steaming porridge on the broken wooden table in the room, the girl pulled her hair from her temples and said, making Channing, who was still lying on the bed, nod instinctively. "Good. ”

Suppressing the surprise that rose slightly in his heart, he got up from the bed, and his body began to get dressed habitually. "Myself, what the hell is this? ”

Although he didn't understand what the situation was, Channing still did it. After squatting on the door frame in front of the room with his hands and feet and washing briefly, he reached out to take down a hanging towel to wash his face.

"Go, take a shower. I was sweating so much last night. Lena frowned slightly and kicked him out of the room.

Somewhat dazed, carrying a bucket of warm water, Channing stood calmly on the side of the street in the ghetto, and after a few seconds of struggle, began to undress. A few glances came from the corner not far away, and after seeing the young man with ribs constantly pouring water on him, he looked away.

Nothing to look at. In addition to women, men generally take a bath outside the house, after all, a separate bathroom is still too far away for these people who only stay at the subsistence line, and having a room that can live in it is basically their limit.

Carefully washing off a few pieces of dust from the back of his face, Channing poured water on his body again. In fact, there was nothing he was not used to. After months of surviving the apocalypse, food and weapons are the most important things. And washing has become an existence that can be discarded in front of drinking water.

It's almost washed. After lifting the bucket and pouring the remaining water on himself, he began to dry himself with a wrung out towel.

A cool morning breeze blew, and the boy shivered involuntarily. This body is still too weak. Although he was sighing for something useless in his heart, the movements in his hands did not stop, and he changed into a relatively dry old clothes as quickly as possible, Qian Ning sat down in front of the broken wooden table and picked up the broken bowl that he used yesterday. "Sister, aren't you going to eat?"

Putting the fairly warm tapioca porridge into his mouth, he looked at Lina, who was sitting there with her head bowed and washing her newly changed clothes, and asked as if he had said it many times. suppressed the undisguised concern in his eyes, and the doubts in his eyes became more and more.

Is Rael still around?

Thinking about this question, Channing went out in a state of confusion, and walked down a somewhat smelly street in the direction of the church in the neighborhood, where a place that resembled a religious school was his destination.

On the side of the street, a few idle fellows glanced in the direction of the lone boy, and after making sure that it was a familiar face they had seen, they began to judge the nightingale prostitutes with impunity.