American Evil God, starting with the American rebel leader raising poisonous insects.

Chapter 142 A Million-Dollar Evacuation!

Karl successfully led everyone back to New Canaan.

Of course, this is related to the fact that the Milk Dragon did not block anything at all and that the states along the way were almost paralyzed or even completely paralyzed.

The seventeenth day after the withdrawal from Washington.

The convoy traveled west along Interstate 70, passing through Pennsylvania into Ohio, then through Ohio into Indiana, and finally from northern Indiana into Michigan.

Every town we passed through along the way was in a similar state.

The first town was Chambersburg, in southern Pennsylvania.

The procession passed through at 10 a.m. The welcome sign at the town entrance was still there, but it was covered with missing person notices and obituaries, the paper swollen from the rain and the writing blurred.

There were no cars or pedestrians on the main street.

A Gundam is hanging from a utility pole, with a rope around its neck and a chair lying on its feet.

It's already dried, like cured meat.

The second town is called Columbus, the capital of Ohio.

The procession circled the city, but the urban landscape was visible from the overpass.

Several tall buildings were still emitting smoke, the black plumes of smoke rising straight up like tombstones in the windless sky.

There were wrecked vehicles on the street, some crashed together, some overturned.

In the distance, a piece of the dome of the state capitol building is missing, revealing the steel frame inside.

The third town is called Fort Wayne, in northeastern Indiana.

The situation here is slightly better because a local militia has taken control of the town entrance, setting up roadblocks and checkpoints.

The militia, numbering about twenty, were all wearing masks and goggles and carrying shotguns and machetes. They raised their guns when they saw the column, but Karl did not stop and continued advancing.

The militia did not fire; they simply watched the column pass by 500 meters away, as if seeing off a herd of migrating animals.

The fourth, the fifth, and the sixth.

The further west you go, the sparser the towns become, but the sense of desolation grows stronger.

Because without any divine power.

The apocalyptic virus, created using gene sequences optimized by Messier AI and propagation models powered by Noah AI, has demonstrated true world-destroying combat power.

The transmission route is unknown; it could be through the air, through contact, through water, or all of these.

The incubation period varies, ranging from as short as six hours to an unknown number of days. During this period, there are no symptoms, but the person is still contagious.

The mortality rate is stable at 40% to 50%. It does not cause immediate death after infection, but rather the appearance of symptoms after infection, which last for three to seven days, during which high fever, cough, hemoptysis, neurological failure, and finally multiple organ failure occur.

There is no specific cure.

There is no vaccine.

There are only two things that can be fought against:

Luck, or a completely sterile environment prepared in advance.

Lucky people either have some kind of natural resistance in their genes, or happen to be in a gap in the transmission chain, living on a remote farm, not in contact with people, and not receiving outside information.

Those who were prepared hid in underground bunkers or escaped into those truly "folded world" areas.

America isn't without such places; nuclear bunkers built during the Cold War can operate on a self-sustaining basis for thirty years; private refuges for the wealthy have independent air filtration systems and food production lines; and secret government facilities are hidden in the mountains or underground.

But those people won't come out.

They hoarded supplies, sealed off entrances, cut off communication, and burrowed underground like moles, waiting for the virus to die out naturally or for everyone outside to die.

So only Carl's team was on the highway.

One million two hundred and seventy thousand people, like a gray river, flowed slowly along the broken highway.

On the first day, we walked 50 kilometers.

The next day, we walked forty-eight kilometers.

On the third day, we walked 45 kilometers.

On the afternoon of the seventeenth day, the group passed through downtown Detroit.

Detroit was quieter than when I left.

The building is still standing, but most of the windows are broken, with shards of glass scattered on the sidewalk, reflecting the sunlight in the setting sun.

There were no cars or pedestrians on the street, only plastic bags and newspapers swirling in the wind.

All the traffic lights were off, the traffic cameras dangled from the poles, and the power lines hung down like intestines.

There was a faint stench in the air, like meat that had been left out for too long, or like the smell of sewage.

The team did not stop and continued westward along Interstate 94, arriving at Riverport City.

Riverport City is where we started, and now it's where we're coming back.

The checkpoint at the city entrance was deserted; the barriers were raised, the tables and chairs in the guard booth were overturned, and documents and empty cans were scattered on the ground.

Carl stopped beside the checkpoint.

He emanated a dark red glow, and his silver-level [Blood Flag Domain] operated automatically, like a semi-transparent film adhering to his skin, rising and falling slightly with his breathing.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Then expand the scope.

It's not the hundred-meter range of the previous bronze level, but the silver level, which can cover the entire new Canaan.

Energy spreads from beneath my feet, rippling out like water, and moves very fast.

In an instant, it covered the entire New Canaan.

Carl saw it.

It's not about using your eyes, but about using your perception of the domain.

He could sense the location, state, and emotions of all living people within his range.

It unfolds in my mind like a three-dimensional map.

There are very few light spots.

The population originally controlled by New Canaan was over ten million before they left. With the addition of the survivors from the surrounding areas who were later gathered, the total number may be close to thirteen or forty thousand.

There are only about two million left now.

It's not an exact number, but a perceptual estimate, between 1.9 million and 2.1 million.

Moreover, his condition was very poor.

Most people experience obvious symptoms of viral infection: fever, cough, muscle weakness, and difficulty breathing.

Some were already bedridden and had weak vital signs;

Some hid in corners, waiting to die, filled with despair;

Some were trying to find food or medicine, but their movements were slow.

The moment the area was covered, everyone took flight!

Those who were lying in bed sat up.

Those who were coughing had some difficulty breathing.

Those who felt powerless felt a surge of strength welling up in their muscles.

The pain lessens, the fear subsides, and hope is rekindled.

But Carl's expression was not good.

He opened his eyes and looked at James Jones beside him.

"Are there only this many people left?"

The voice was flat, but you could hear the suppressed emotions in it.

Two million, that sounds like a lot.

But considering there were originally more than ten million people!

The survival rate is only 20% to 30%, right?

James has almost fully recovered. The wound on his back has mostly healed; although it still hurts, it doesn't affect his mobility.

He walked over to Karl and looked at the river port city ahead.

The streets were deserted, the buildings silent, but you could sense that people were inside.

"Cough cough cough."

He coughed twice.

"It's alright, Carl. You've been promoted, and we're back safely. Everything will be alright."

He reached out and patted Carl on the shoulder.

The movements were light, but steady.

"And there are children too. They'll all get better in a little while."

He is indeed optimistic.

Because in his view, population is not a problem.

There are a large number of children, more than a million, and their ages are concentrated between five and fifteen, which is a stage of high plasticity and rapid growth.

Give them food, give them protection, teach them skills, and ten years later they will be a new generation of warriors.

There is Karl, a Silver-level pathway user, who possesses the [Blood Flag Domain], a wide-range buff ability that can combat viruses.

As long as Karl is alive, the domain will remain in effect, saving more lives.

With fists, there were more than 10,000 passerby warriors. Although more than half of them were lost, those who survived were all elites with rich combat experience and high loyalty.

Moreover, the Silver-tier Karl is itself a strategic unit.

There's a black box; Noah AI provides fully automated production lines, ensuring no shortage of food, weapons, medicine, or basic supplies.

As long as there is electricity and raw materials, production can continue.

There are external threats: the Milk Dragon in Washington and Lucien in the south, who knows when they might attack.

But threats can also be a driving force, keeping people vigilant and uniting them.

The interior is prosperous and safe, with food and clothing, the strength to protect oneself, and the hope of survival.

James is a veteran; he's fought against his fellow countrymen and witnessed the rise and fall of dynasties.

He was well aware that this state of internal abundance and security coupled with external threats would generate a strong desire to reproduce.

It's not theory, it's instinct.

There will be a huge baby boom coming.

The population could double in just ten years.

It will take twenty years to recover to pre-virus levels.

The premise is that they can live that long.

Karl was silent for a moment.

He wasn't unaware of these principles.

As someone who has lost family members, he cares more about the people who follow him.

Every face, every name, every act of trust represents a responsibility.

His wife died.

My daughter is dead.

My son is dead.

He failed to protect them.

Therefore, he must protect these people now.

Not one can be missing.

"it is good."

He nodded, his voice returning to calm.

"Everyone, take a break, and then gather everyone together."

He turned to David.

David was in slightly better shape than James; he looked tired and had bloodshot eyes, but he stood very straight.

The responsibility for organizing over a million children, distributing supplies, and arranging marches along the way rested largely on his shoulders.

"Yes, Your Excellency."

David turned around and began to give instructions.

Carl himself started moving as well.

He entered the river port city.

The first house belonged to an old woman who lived in a two-story brick house in the east of the city.

The door wasn't locked, so Carl pushed it open and went inside.

The living room was dark, the curtains were drawn, and there was a musty and medicinal smell in the air.

The old woman lay on the sofa, covered with a blanket, her breathing faint.

There was a girl of about ten years old next to her, wiping her face with a wet towel.

The girl saw Karl, paused for a moment, then stood up, stepped back against the wall, and said nothing.

Karl walked over, knelt down on one knee, and placed his hand on the old woman's forehead.

The energy of the Blood Flag Domain is conducted through contact.

It's not treatment, it's directly guiding her onto the path.

The old woman's breathing became more even, her eyelids twitched, and she opened her eyes.

His eyes were cloudy, but he could still focus.

She saw Karl, paused for two seconds, and then her lips trembled.

"My Lord Saint—"

The voice was very soft, like a whisper.

Carl didn't speak, he just nodded, and then stood up.

He looked at the girl.

"Can you walk?"

The girl nodded.

"Help her to the river port square."

The girl nodded again, walked to the sofa, and struggled to help the old woman up.

The old woman was very thin, but the girl was even thinner. The two stumbled for a moment, but managed to regain their balance.

Carl turned and went out.

The second family lived with a young couple on the third floor of the apartment next door.

The door was locked. Carl knocked three times, but no one answered.

He simply twisted off the doorknob and pushed the door open.

The couple sat at the dining table with two empty bowls in front of them.

Both of them were coughing, but the husband was coughing more severely, and there was blood at the corner of his mouth.

Upon seeing Karl, they stood up, intending to speak, but Karl raised his hand to stop them.

"Go to River Port Square."

He said.

The third, the fourth, the fifth.

He walked slowly, but steadily.

Each person stays for no more than thirty seconds to check their status, provide a little energy support, and then points towards the square.

No explanation is needed.

Those who saw him understood.

Some people walk on their own, some need assistance, and some are carried on makeshift stretchers to help those who cannot move.

People poured out from every corner of the city, like streams flowing into a river, moving towards the river port square.

A temporary rest area along a suburban highway.

Bode Tom lay on the ground, panting heavily.

He is a survivor from Pennsylvania, a former truck driver, 42 years old, twice divorced, whose children disappeared during the transfer window.

Before the outbreak, he was driving long-haul trucks from Philadelphia to Chicago, carrying medical equipment.

After the outbreak, he was trapped on the highway, surrounded by wrecked cars, unable to get out.

He hid in the driver's seat for three days, surviving on snacks and water found in the truck.

On the fourth day, he saw Karl's entourage pass by, like a long gray dragon moving along the broken road.

He decided to follow.

Because if one person is doomed, following the group might save their life.

The journey was tough.

During forced marches, we walked dozens of kilometers every day, our feet were blistered, and our legs felt like they were filled with lead.

They lacked food and water, and the nutritional blocks were barely enough to sustain their lives, but they were not full.

We must also be wary of possible infection symptoms such as cough, fever, and hemoptysis.

But he pulled through.

Because the team has [Blood Flag Domain].

Although it only covered him during forced marches, the feeling of that power surging into his body was like a thirsty person drinking water, or a suffocating person breathing air.

Make him believe that he can survive by following this team.

Now he has finally set foot on the land of New Canaan.

Then he felt it.

That power was not a temporary blessing, but a continuous, stable presence, as natural as breathing.

"Oh my god! Saint!"

He couldn't help but shout it out, his voice hoarse but full of excitement.

Power surged within him.

The muscle soreness from overwork is lessening.

The headache caused by encephalitis is subsiding.

The burning pain in my breath caused by pneumonia is subsiding.

The feeling of muscle weakness is disappearing.

He felt like he was about to fly.

It wasn't just him.

There were many other survivors like him around, who had come from other states; their numbers numbered probably in the hundreds of thousands.

They lay on the ground, some sitting, some leaning, feeling the changes in their bodies.

When someone cries, it's out of sadness, release, and an emotional catharsis after surviving a catastrophe.

Someone laughed; their voice was hoarse, but genuine.

Someone shouted to the sky, "I survived! I survived!"

Their choice paid off.

The chance to survive.

The children's area is located on the edge of the river port square.

The children were organized by David and other guides, grouped by age, with those over ten taking care of those under ten, and the able-bodied helping the immobile.

There were a huge number of people, over a million, filling the square and the surrounding streets. From above, it looked like a gray carpet covering the concrete ground.

But it was very quiet.

There was no crying, no screaming, only occasional coughing and low sobbing.

Because most of the children are now orphans.

His parents died from the virus, which also ravaged the area during Karl's absence from New Canaan.

Some parents died while fleeing, and some families tried to escape to safer places but died on the way.

Some of the children's parents died in Washington missile strikes, while others were Passersby who went to war and never returned.

If the current social environment hadn't deteriorated to this state, they would all have entered the transfer window and then headed straight for the end of their lives.

But Karl is here.

There is David.

There are other adults who are willing to take care of them.

So they didn't break down; they just stood silently together, following instructions and waiting for further arrangements.

An eight-year-old girl was holding the hand of a five-year-old boy. Both of them had tear stains on their faces, but they didn't cry out loud.

The girl's name is Amy, and the boy's name is Billy. They are siblings; their parents have both died, and now only the two of them remain.

A twelve-year-old boy was carrying a three-year-old girl on his back. The girl was asleep, and drool was dripping onto his shoulder.

The boy's name is Jack, and the girl is his sister. He doesn't know where his parents are; maybe they're dead, or maybe they've gotten separated.

A fifteen-year-old girl is bandaging a seven-year-old boy's hand wound; her movements are clumsy but earnest.

The girl's name was Lily. She didn't know the boy, but she saw that his hand was bleeding, so she came over.

David stood on a makeshift platform, holding a megaphone.

The sound was transmitted through a battery-powered speaker, and although it was somewhat distorted, it was still audible.

"First group, go to the east side to collect the nutrient blocks. They will be distributed in groups of two per person."

"Second group, go to the west to get water, one bottle each."

"Third group, take care of the wounded, report to the medical station."

"Fourth group, clean up the site and collect the trash in the designated area."

The children got moving.

The movements were not yet skillful, but no one complained.

Because complaining is useless.

Only by surviving can you be of any use.

With the blessing of the Silver-level [Blood Flag Domain], the team was able to rest and recuperate in just one afternoon.

Everyone was gathered near Riverport City.

Not only River Harbor City, but all the survivors of New Canaan were drawn here.

The border of New Canaan was only occupied by a few scattered personnel, about three hundred people, who were assigned to monitor and acquire resources, and were dispersed across a dozen outposts.

They have now received orders to assemble in Chaohe Port City.

Because, in Riverport Square of Riverport City, at the place where the Canaanite dream began, on that still intact high platform, Karl stood once again.

He was about to begin his speech.

That was the place where he gave his public speech and announced the start of the holy war. Now, it's time to put an end to the holy war.

Now he stands up again.