March 21st, 8:02 AM — Longwan Mall, North Wing Concessions
John Wang POV
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The mall was quiet in the way that only dead buildings could be—lights flickering overhead, dust curling in the air like smoke, and the faint sound of metal expanding in the heat.
The system map flickered inside my vision. Still scrambled, showing signs of interference, but the trails I'd cached were enough. Two marked red paths. Both thin, like hairline cracks winding through concrete. One led west. The other deeper north.
We followed the northern line.
Tang Wei and Mu Qinglan took point. I walked third, right behind them, keeping eyes on both the path ahead and the high ceilings. Roulan and Yifei flanked the group, sweeping corners and broken store gates with silent discipline. Chen Xun, Liang Mei, and Deng Hua watched the rear.
We moved through the skeletal remains of the concessions hallway—broken drink machines, gutted stalls, paper wrappers curled into corners.
