Wasteland Survivalist: A Scientific Guide to Post-Apocalyptic Survival

Gu Lang and Zhao Xun pushed open the glass door of the exhibition hall, and the scene inside made them both stop in their tracks.

The walls were covered with countless sheets of white A4 paper, stretching from the floor to almost the ceiling.

A cold wind blew in from the open doorway, lifting the bottom edge of the paper, letting it fall, then lifting it again, making a soft rustling sound, like rolling waves.

Gu Lang took a step forward and then saw that each A4 sheet of paper had four photos printed in color, arranged neatly from top to bottom.

The first photo is a close-up of the face, the second is a full-body photo, the third is the person's belongings, and the fourth is a birthmark, tattoo, or other physical feature on the body.

This layout format is clearly designed to make it easier for the deceased's family to identify the body from multiple perspectives.

Gu Lang approached the wall and examined it closely, discovering that most of the remains were incomplete.

The first close-up of the face should have been a clear, frontal view.

However, many people's faces are completely destroyed by external forces, leaving only half a face or incomplete facial features.

On a significant number of A4 sheets of paper, the first page is simply blank.

This means that there were no photos of the victims' faces to attach, possibly because their heads were no longer present.

The second full-body photo isn't much better.

Some remains can only be considered "part of the body" in photographs, with the torso or limbs incomplete.

It looks like a human model that has been carelessly ravaged by an excavator.

In the center of the outermost photo wall, there was a statement, the paper was larger and the font was thicker than the surrounding ones.

"After the '7.23' nuclear disaster, relevant government departments examined some of the unclaimed remains of victims in the region."

A total of 1356 people have been identified. Family members are requested to identify them themselves.

The signature was stamped with a blurry red seal, and the date in the date column was July 29th, just six days before the nuclear explosion.

Gu Lang shifted his gaze from the description to re-examine the massive photo wall.

This is just an exhibition hall, and the posters only feature the victims from a few surrounding communities.

The shock of transforming abstract death statistics into concrete images of corpses is indescribable.

According to the statement, the bodies were transported here for forensic examination and information collection, and then buried on site after the procedures were completed.

In other words, the people depicted on these A4 sheets of paper are currently lying under a patch of earth in the park.

Zhao Xun turned around, closed the glass door, and began to examine each A4 sheet of paper.

Not wanting to disturb Zhao Xun, Gu Lang stood in front of another wall, his eyes scanning the rows of A4 papers.

His gaze fell on an A4 sheet of paper numbered "23-010".

Since the remains were all unidentifiable, the photos of these "unidentified" individuals only showed forensic examination numbers.

In the standard format of a set of four, three of the sheets are blank.

There are no photos of faces, no full-body photos, and no photos of body features.

There was only a photograph of the belongings; it showed a corner of a blood-red quilt with a pearl necklace on it.

This seems to suggest that the deceased was likely a woman, but there is no other useful information.

The number "23-011" next to it has no photo of the face or any photos of the belongings.

There is only one photo of the body in the middle, and the flesh is so bloody that the face is completely unrecognizable.

Fortunately, the body was largely intact, so the photo was labeled "male".

That's all; all of this person's identity information is now reduced to just their gender.

Gu Lang read row after row of papers. Each paper contained an unfinished story, and behind each number was a person who could no longer speak.

"It seems that the people here were still in a state of emergency relief and rescue until the rabies virus spread to this area."

Gu Lang muttered to himself, his voice echoing in the empty exhibition hall.

"They are even making every effort to collect the remains of the victims to provide clues for families searching for their loved ones after the war."

After a long time, I suddenly heard crying.

After searching through more than a dozen walls, Zhao Xun finally found his family.

His fingers pressed tightly against several sheets of A4 paper as he cried out the numbers on them.

「76-001、76-002、76-003、76-004。」

What were once vibrant lives have now been reduced to four cold numbers.

Gu Lang left the exhibition hall, giving Zhao Xun some time where he wouldn't be watched by anyone.

Behind the exhibition hall is the temporary burial area, a piece of land that has clearly just been leveled and looks exceptionally neat.

From afar, it was a vast expanse of white, as if a light snow had fallen.

Upon closer inspection, you can see that the soil surface has been sprinkled with a layer of lime powder.

Due to wind and rain erosion, some areas have now exposed the dark soil underneath.

Spreading lime is a standard post-disaster disease prevention measure to prevent the growth of bacteria and mosquitoes during the decomposition of corpses.

This layer of chemical powder also completely killed the plant roots in the soil, leaving the ground barren and unsightly.

But Gu Lang soon noticed another phenomenon: a large number of broken pieces appeared on the flat ground.

It wasn't just ordinary surface cracks; it consisted of numerous irregular pits and mounds of earth.

"What's going on? Has someone already exhumed the remains?"

Zhao Xun's voice came from behind him, having regained his usual composure, though his voice was unusually hoarse.

Gu Lang squatted down, took a closer look at a cracked mound of earth, and then shook his head.

No, this is a natural phenomenon.

After a large number of bodies are buried together, they will gradually decompose in the soil.

The gases produced during the process caused the ground to ferment, expand, bulge, and crack; after the gases were released, it collapsed again.

Gu Lang recalled the Beichuan earthquake ruins area he had visited before.

When he offered flowers at the Central Memorial Garden at the foot of Jingjia Mountain, the locals told him something.

The rectangular area where more than 8000 victims were buried was filled with three layers of cement to smooth out the surface craters.

The ground in front of me was covered with mineral water bottles, with roughly equal spacing between each bottle.

The lines are straight and even, just like planting rice seedlings in a field.

Gu Lang walked closer and found that each bottle contained something sealed inside.

He bent down and pulled out a bottle with force.

Turn the bottle over, and through the transparent plastic shell, you can see a few hairs, a small piece of fingernail, and a piece of bone no bigger than a grain of rice sealed inside.

A series of numbers were engraved on the bottle with a craft knife, each number engraved very deeply, as if afraid that time would wear them down.

These are likely biological samples that forensic experts preserved individually for each victim before the mass burial.

Hair, nails, and bone fragments are all materials that can be used for DNA testing.

We await the day when the survivors will come here to compare their results.