Apocalyptic Hoarding Diary

The two exchanged a glance, their eyes revealing a tacit understanding between them. After checking their belongings and confirming that everything was in order, they set off for trading point number 23.

The official trading point's signboard clearly states the business hours: 7 a.m. to 10 p.m.

It was just getting light, and there was still some time before we left, but the queue had already formed a long line.

The two men went up to inquire and learned that these people were all there to exchange logging tools; what they wanted were nothing more than hard currency such as axes, saws, and machetes.

Lan Yue, with her sharp eyes, gently nudged Xu Xiaoyan's arm and gestured to the side, "Xiaoyan, look over there, there are people bartering."

The two leaned closer to take a closer look and saw people talking and exchanging things in hushed tones in front of several simple stalls that looked like street vendor stalls.

The items traded are varied, but mostly pre-packaged food, knives, and rain gear. Occasionally, someone might bring out a few batteries or a bag of salt.

The air was filled with a damp, musty smell, mixed with the sour smell of sweat emanating from the crowd.

No dry biscuits? Xu Xiaoyan muttered to herself, her eyes scanning the stall before she quickly realized what was going on.

In such humid and hot weather, let alone dry biscuits, even slightly drier foods will grow moldy and cannot be stored for more than two days.

Just as the two were about to move closer to get a better look, several sharp whistles suddenly pierced through the noisy crowd, making their eardrums tighten.

Immediately afterwards, several shouts rang out in succession—

「请57团/86团/122团/156团/195团/229团到这边集合！」

The voice was rough and urgent, leaving no room for hesitation.

The two men's expressions hardened, and they turned around almost simultaneously, pushed through the crowd, and ran towards the 57th Regiment.

When the two arrived at the assembly point, there were only about thirty people scattered on the open ground of the 57th Regiment, in small groups here and there, without even a proper formation.

Xu Xiaoyan glanced down at her watch; the hands were pointing precisely to 7 o'clock.

What's going on? They can't even get enough people to roll call on the first day? These people are really too bold.

She muttered to herself, her gaze sweeping over the people present: some were squatting on the ground tying their shoelaces, some were yawning with their arms crossed, and two were huddled together chatting in hushed tones, their faces showing no sense of urgency whatsoever.

Lan Yue frowned quietly to the side, but remained silent.

Before Xu Xiaoyan could even utter that exclamation, a series of crackling sounds suddenly came from the direction of the mountains behind her.

The sounds of branches breaking, footsteps slipping, and heavy breathing mingled together.

The two turned their heads and saw three or four people tumbling and crawling out of the woods, their trouser legs covered in wet mud. One of them had slipped while running too fast, but luckily someone next to him pulled him up so he wouldn't fall.

As they ran, they shouted at the top of their lungs, "Sergeant Wu—wait for us! The road is too slippery, several people have fallen, we'll be there soon, please wait a little longer!"

The young man who ran up first was covered in mud, panting heavily, and looked apologetic.

Sergeant Wu stood at the front of the formation with his hands behind his back. Upon hearing the shout, his tense expression relaxed.

He sighed helplessly, his voice soft but carrying a mature and gentle tone: "Safety is the most important thing. Don't fall again."

Those people felt as if they had been granted a pardon, nodded hurriedly, and staggered into the crowd.

Time passed by, second by second.

Scattered figures kept appearing from the direction of the mountains and forests. Some were limping, some were covered in mud, and two were helping each other along, grumbling and complaining about how difficult the road was.

Another full fifteen minutes passed before the line finally began to fill out.

Sergeant Wu stood still, his gaze slowly sweeping across everyone's faces. Only after confirming that everyone was settled did he take a step forward and clear his throat.

"You are not soldiers, so I cannot hold you to the same standards as soldiers."

He paused for a moment, his eyes calm. "But the current situation is that if I'm willing to delay by fifteen minutes today, you'll get into the habit of arriving half an hour late from now on."

Upon hearing this, some people in the group lowered their heads, while others shifted their feet uncomfortably.

"I won't investigate this time," Sergeant Wu said, his tone softening. "Because everyone needs time to adjust. But starting next time, I won't let it go so easily. I hope you will take this as a warning."

All around was quiet; even the people who had been complaining about the slippery road earlier had fallen silent.

Xu Xiaoyan and Lan Yue exchanged a glance, but neither of them spoke.

After Officer Wu finished speaking, he paused for a moment, as if giving everyone time to digest and reflect.

He then took out a folded list from his shirt pocket, unfolded it, ran his fingers down the paper, and cleared his throat.

"Now we'll begin roll call. When your name is called, say 'Here!'"

"Zhao Dayong".

"Here!" A burly man at the front of the line answered crisply.

"Sun Li".

A middle-aged woman with a low ponytail raised her hand in the middle of the crowd to indicate "Here".

Sergeant Wu moved at a moderate pace, glancing up briefly to confirm the location of each name he read.

Xu Xiaoyan noticed that the order in which he called out names did not seem random; he called out the people who seemed to be concentrating first, and then those who were standing in the corners.

After making this round of checks, he had subtly drawn everyone's attention.

The people of the 57th Regiment were quite capable; not one of them needed to order a second time.

No matter where they stand, they respond immediately, their voices varying in volume but always clear.

However, the dozens of people finished ordering in five or six minutes.

Sergeant Wu lightly ticked each name, then looked up and glanced at the men in his regiment, seemingly quite satisfied.

The situations of the other groups, however, were quite varied.

The people of the 86th Regiment stood scattered, and Sergeant Wang, a lean middle-aged man with an unusually loud voice, was calling out roll.

After he called out a name, no one responded for a long time. He called it out again, raising his voice a few decibels.

"Hey—it's here!" A voice came from a distance, at least seventy or eighty meters away from the meeting point.

Everyone turned to look and saw a group of young men standing in the line at the official trading point, waving their arms in their direction.

With a big smile on his face, he had obviously gone to queue up early in the morning to exchange for logging tools.

Sergeant Wang squinted and recognized the man. He didn't get angry, but simply tucked the roll call list under his arm and shouted, "Is that you?"

"Yes! Genuine and authentic!" the young man answered from afar, his voice both loud and irritating.

"Alright, that counts as you've arrived," Sergeant Wang waved his hand dismissively, too lazy to argue with him, and lowered his head to call out the next name.

But that young man was the kind of person who would beam with joy at the slightest bit of kindness.

Seeing that Sergeant Wang was so easy to talk to, they immediately perked up, cupped their hands to their mouths, and shouted at the top of their lungs, "Long live Sergeant Wang!"