Once they left the jamming zone, the surrounding atmosphere felt distinctly different.
The chaotic fluctuations that made one's scalp tingle were gone, along with the sensation of being watched by an invisible entity from the shadows. The wind blowing through the ruined streets carried dust and a faint, metallic scent of blood.
Team 7 halted on the roof of a low building. Van Thieu checked the communication device; the signal was much more stable.
"We're out of the interference zone. If anything happens, we can communicate within this radius."
No one replied, but the team's internal dynamic had shifted. Thanh Dao opened her eyes and gave a slight nod. The pressure on her hearing had decreased significantly, and the overlapping, meaningless static had ceased.
Lam Thanh Moc retracted the vines clinging to the railing and stepped to the edge of the roof, looking down at the street below. Scattered zombie corpses lay strewn about.
"Someone went ahead of us, and it wasn't the scouting team."
Van Binh frowned. "So there's another squad?"
Van Thieu didn't answer immediately. He turned to Thuong Sinh. "From now on, we adjust the formation."
Without further explanation, Thuong Sinh understood perfectly.
He took a step forward, standing at the edge of the roof, gazing toward the southwest district where the terrain dipped. The buildings grew sparse and the visibility widened, which also meant there would be less cover.
"I'll take point," he said. His voice was calm, not asking for permission.
Van Thieu nodded. "Maintain a thirty-meter distance. Do not separate from the team without cause."
Thanh Dao glanced at Thuong Sinh and added a soft reminder: "If I sense any abnormal waves ahead, I'll alert you immediately."
"Understood."
No one asked why it had to be him, and no one objected. From the moment Ly Hong Quan's orders were handed down, his role was clearly defined: he wasn't just the strongest member, but the spearhead—the one who accepted first contact with the unknown.
The team left the rooftop and entered the new area. This time, Thuong Sinh's pace was much slower, not out of hesitation, but because he was observing things others might miss: positions suited for ambushes, hastily erased tracks, and movement patterns inconsistent with zombies.
"Something doesn't want to be found," he remarked after a while.
Van Binh lowered his voice. "Humans?"
"Not sure, but it's something capable of thought."
The statement silenced the group. This was no longer a simple cleanup or rescue mission; this was contact with a variable. Up ahead, the road split into two branches: one led to the old residential area, the other toward an abandoned industrial zone.
Thanh Dao closed her eyes, focused for a few seconds, then reopened them. "To the right, there are signs of very fresh activity."
Thuong Sinh looked in that direction. The wind blew softly, but it didn't carry the stench of rot. There was only a vague sensation that something was waiting. He placed his hand on his sword hilt.
"Let's move."
The road leading to Industrial Zone No. 3 gradually appeared. Gray concrete factories were stacked against each other. Broken chimneys tilted precariously, conveyor belts were rusted, and overturned containers lay strewn across the pathways. There was no sound of machinery, only the wind whistling through hollow steel frames, creating a low moan.
Thuong Sinh's group advanced slowly. It wasn't because of a high density of zombies; on the contrary, there were far too few.
"Strange," Van Binh whispered. "An industrial zone like this is usually a breeding ground for zombies, right?"
Van Thieu didn't respond, merely signaling to maintain formation. Thuong Sinh led the way, his eyes scanning the ground. Dense footprints—not zombies. Human steps, some old and some new, were mixed together, but they all avoided the same direction.
Southeast.
As they pushed further, they encountered the first group of people at the edge of the industrial zone. An old security station had been repurposed into a lookout post. Sandbags were piled high, and barbed wire was strung everywhere. A lookout stood on the roof, armed with a makeshift firearm, eyes vigilant.
"Halt," a man's voice called out. "Identify yourselves."
Van Thieu stepped half a step forward, his voice steady. "Wanderers. We're passing through to exchange information."
Silence followed for a few seconds as low-voiced discussions took place above. Finally, the guard lowered his weapon.
"You can enter, but don't cause trouble."
The iron gate groaned open. Inside, a medium-sized survival settlement revealed itself. Factories had been converted into living quarters, and fires burned in oil drums. Children, the elderly, Ability users, and ordinary people were all present.
"Quite a crowd," Van Binh noted with a click of his tongue.
A middle-aged man in his forties approached them. He was heavily built with thick callouses on his hands and sharp eyes.
"Thirty seconds. Ask what you want, but you have to pay a fee."
Van Thieu didn't hesitate to pull a can of food from his backpack and hand it over. The man inspected it, turning it over several times before nodding and tucking it into a bag behind his back.
Van Thieu didn't beat around the bush. "Where have the zombies around here gone?"
The man narrowed his eyes. "You noticed too?" He let out a sigh and signaled for them to follow him into a sealed factory building.
Inside the wind-tight factory, flashlights and oil lamps cast flickering glows upon the concrete walls, revealing dense, spiderweb-like cracks as if the structure might collapse at any moment. The air was thick with the scent of old engine oil and rusted metal.
The guide stayed outside, indicating they could enter. The moment Thuong Sinh stepped in, he felt a distinct difference. It was too quiet—not a peaceful silence, but the kind where too many people are holding their breath at once.
Small groups stood apart along the steel pillars, spaced just enough to retreat if things went south. No one pointed weapons openly, but every hand was positioned near a blade, a gun, or a source of elemental power.
A few gazes swept over Thuong Sinh's group. He quickly scanned the room: over thirty people, divided into five or six small groups. There were Ability users—that much was obvious. Some stood just out of the light, listening to things others couldn't hear, while the ground beneath one person's feet bulged unnaturally in a corner.
Yet no one showed off, as if there was a silent consensus: the first to show their cards would be the first to die.
Time passed in silence. After two or three more groups entered, a man in a leather jacket in the center signaled for a wooden crate to be dragged into the middle of the floor. He didn't introduce himself; names mattered less than what one could contribute.
"The old rules," he said, his voice moderate. "Whoever has information, speak. Whoever hears it, decide for yourself whether to believe it. No arguments."
No one objected. A woman standing by a steel pillar on the left stepped forward. Her voice was hoarse, as if she hadn't slept for days.
"Three days ago, my group was stationed at the southern docks. The zombies began moving northeast. They weren't chasing people or scavenging. They were just moving... continuously."
Another person followed from the opposite side. "We lost two people trying to cross Route 4. It wasn't an ambush. The numbers just suddenly tripled. It was as if something was attracting them."
The disjointed accounts rang out, and though they weren't a single narrative, they fit together ominously. Thuong Sinh remained silent.
Another group added cautiously, "Some say they've seen lights at night, deep in the old factory district. Not like fire, not like electricity."
No one mocked them. In this place, the more absurd something sounded, the more likely it was to be true. Thuong Sinh glanced at his teammates. No words were exchanged, but their eyes said enough.
The man in the leather jacket tapped the wooden crate, signaling the end of the session. "That's all the information for now."
Some groups began to filter out, but Thuong Sinh's group stayed put. He didn't look at the leader anymore; he watched the departure of the others. Some left immediately upon hearing "night lights." Others hesitated at the mention of "southwest." He studied them closely. It wasn't that they were afraid; rather, their eyes held the same look—the look of people who had heard this elsewhere but weren't ready to confirm it.
Van Thieu processed the information. Suddenly, Thanh Dao realized something and whispered to the group.
"Something feels off here."
Lam Thanh Moc caught on as well. "That group over there said the zombies are heading northeast."
So Sinh continued the thought. "But the other group said they lost people on Route 4. If I'm not mistaken, that's southwest relative to the safe zone."
Thanh Dao's eyes lit up as she smiled. "Everyone is in a different location."
The team turned to her.
"The zombies leaving those people were seen going northeast. From our perspective, they're going southwest."
Two lines intersecting.
Thuong Sinh finally spoke. "The common point they are all converging on is only one."
"The old factory district," Van Thieu said first, his voice deep as if confirming his own deduction.
Thanh Dao nodded. "It's not just a warehouse; it's the inner core. The place where the signal jamming is strongest."
So Sinh took a light breath. "Something strong enough to draw them from multiple directions to a single point... that can't be a coincidence."
A brief silence followed. Van Binh, standing in the middle, glanced from one person to the next. He opened his mouth, then closed it, his brow furrowed. He clearly wasn't keeping up.
"Wait a second." He scratched the back of his neck. "Are you saying the zombies are being summoned? But summoned by what?"
Lam Thanh Moc glanced at him, seeing the confusion on his face. Thanh Dao noticed too, the corner of her lips curving up. She stepped closer to Van Binh and lowered her voice. "How much of that did you get?"
Van Binh immediately straightened his back. "I get it."
Then he paused. Outwardly, he was nodding as if serious, but his head was a mess: What is the inner core? What does jamming have to do with zombies? Why does northeast and southwest intersecting lead to the old factory?
A thousand questions rolled around, but he didn't dare ask any of them.
Thanh Dao saw through him and her smile widened. She gave him the key: "Something is transmitting a signal there. The zombies are just the reaction."
Van Binh blinked. "Ah."
He didn't fully understand, but at least he knew this wasn't a small matter.
Thuong Sinh concluded the exchange. "You don't need to understand everything. Just know one thing." He turned toward the factory door. "We have to go there."
No one objected. They quietly departed.