Endless Night Wasteland

"Ugh..."
Lying on the hard cot, I let out a pained groan as I slowly opened my bloodshot, clouded eyes.

My limbs were limp and powerless, waves of agony tearing through my nerves, so intense that even the smallest movement of a finger seemed impossible.

It took half an hour before I regained the faintest glimmer of strength, enough to prop myself up against the wall, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I gasped for breath, struggling to piece together my memories, which flickered and faded in my mind.

With a rasp, I struck a match and lit the candle on the table, regaining some vision in the weak glow.

This so-called safe house where I eked out a miserable existence was perhaps forty or fifty square meters—more than enough for one person. Yet its furnishings were crude: a nearly collapsing hard bed, a table, and a storage cabinet.

Those were the only usable items; the rest—appliances like refrigerators or televisions—had long since become useless in this era survivors called the "Age of Ruin." Or rather, they were useless in most places. Only the larger, electrified settlements could make use of such things.

I touched my cheek and, still somewhat dazed, muttered, "My name is Cao Fusheng. I want to live... but I'm about to die..."

I sucked in a sharp breath, shivering from my fever, my body racked with chills. I raised my left hand with effort and saw a bandage stretching from my palm up to my shoulder, still stained with blood.

A faint tearing sensation came from my abdomen, which w