The convoy continued to move forward in the rain.
Having endured a night of high-intensity combat and terror, everyone was exhausted.
After some discussion, everyone unanimously decided to head to the nursing home where Guillermo was located to rest and recuperate.
In the trailing vehicle, Louis was unaware of the discussion about him taking place up ahead.
He was still pondering what that inexplicable voice from earlier had been.
"Was it really an auditory hallucination?"
Louis rubbed the space between his eyebrows.
Strangely, after that roar, his mind, which had been groggy from overcasting, actually felt a trace of eerie clarity.
As he thought, he suddenly felt the backpack behind him pressing uncomfortably against his back.
He struggled to turn around in the back seat, dragged the heavy backpack to his front, and unzipped it, revealing the vintage leather suitcase inside.
This suitcase was something he had carried with him since the first day he transmigrated, and it contained all his magic books.
Louis habitually checked the latches and was about to tuck it back in when his movements suddenly froze.
His gaze fell upon the heavy suitcase, and his brow gradually furrowed.
A question he had overlooked for a long time suddenly struck him like a bolt of lightning.
"Why... have I been carrying this suitcase all this time?"
Once this thought appeared, it refused to go away, carrying with it a spine-chilling sense of dissonance.
The suitcase was made of thick leather and wood; while well-crafted, it was quite heavy, weighing at least several pounds.
Louis recalled the first day he transmigrated. Back then, he had inspected the suitcase meticulously, tapping the bottom, feeling for hidden compartments, and even using a bright flashlight to illuminate every corner.
The conclusion was clear: it was just an ordinary, sturdy old leather suitcase.
Since there were no magic Guillermo fluctuations or hidden spaces, according to normal survival logic, he should have taken the precious magic books out and stuffed them into a lighter bag long ago to reduce his load, then tossed this dead-weight suitcase into a trash pile!
But... "Why have I never even had the thought of 'throwing it away'?"
"And why am I only realizing there's something wrong with this now?"
All along the way, from the office building surrounded by horde of Walkers, to the peril-filled hospital, to the adventure across half of Atlanta... no matter how critical the situation or how exhausted he was, he had subconsciously kept this suitcase by his side.
Louis felt a faint chill.
This feeling was as if someone had cast a long-term Confundo on him, making him overlook the irrationality of the situation.
"Did I miss something in my previous inspections?"
Louis's heart began to race.
"Or... is this suitcase actually a magical item? It just needs some specific condition to be met to trigger it?"
He glanced at Merle, who was driving up front, and Daryl, who was resting with his eyes closed beside him, and quietly reached for the suitcase, wanting to inspect it thoroughly once more.
However, the moment his fingertips touched the surface of the suitcase—
Screech!
The vehicle jolted violently as the sound of tires screeching against the ground rang out.
"Wake up, runts," Merle's voice came through. "Get out, we're here."
Louis's movements were interrupted.
He looked up and out the window. The familiar gates of the nursing home came into view.
Phew...
Louis let out a soft breath, suppressing the doubts swirling in his heart as he stuffed the suitcase back into his backpack.
With so many eyes around, now was clearly not the time to study such a magic Guillermo item.
"Forget it, I'll wait until we've settled in and find a secluded spot to check it properly."
He shouldered his pack and followed the others out of the car.
The sky remained gloomy, and a fine drizzle fell steadily, shrouding the entire nursing home in a layer of gray mist.
After the gate opened, everyone filed in, only to find the courtyard empty.
Usually, even on a rainy day like this, there would be a few agile elderly folks stretching their limbs under the corridors or gathering to help with some simple chores.
But now, as far as the eye could see, there was only the rain-slicked ground.
"Miguel!"
The joy of returning home prevented Guillermo from thinking too much.
Wiping the rain from his face, he strode toward the companion on lookout duty. "Hey! Stop dazing and come help! We brought back a lot of good stuff!"
However, that companion didn't rush over excitedly as usual.
He looked up, glanced at Guillermo with evasive eyes, his lips twitched, and he turned aside with a strange expression.
Guillermo's pace involuntarily slowed.
He keenly sensed that something was wrong.
Why was it so quiet?
Aside from this lookout, where was everyone else?
"What's going on?" The smile faded from Guillermo's face. He frowned, his gaze scanning the closed doors of the main building. "Is everyone in the backyard?"
The sentry opened his mouth but said nothing, simply lowering his head in silence.
An inexplicable sense of unease crawled up his spine.
Rick and the others sensed the strange atmosphere and instinctively gripped their weapons, looking around warily.
Louis's heart leaped into his throat as countless possibilities flashed through his mind.
Could it be remnants of The Believers?
Or had another gang of Thugs taken advantage of their absence to raid the place?
Just as everyone was filled with uncertainty, several figures slowly emerged from the shadows of the main building's hall.
It was Miguel and the other young people who had stayed behind.
They had no injuries and showed no signs of a struggle, but every face was etched with unspeakable sadness and dejection, as if their very spirits had been drained.
"Miguel?"
Guillermo hurried forward, his eyes searching behind them. "What happened? Why does everyone have that look on their faces?"
Miguel looked up, his eyes bloodshot and his voice incredibly hoarse. "Guillermo... the grandparents... they're gone."
"Gone?"
Guillermo froze for a moment, seemingly failing to grasp the meaning of the word.
His heart skipped a beat. He shoved Miguel aside and charged into the main building like a lunatic, heading straight for the lounge area in the back.
"Grandpa? Grandma?! Is anyone there?"
He threw open door after door, shouting the names of each elderly person.
No one responded.
The rooms were tidy, the beds made, but there was no one there.
The activity room was empty, with only a few wheelchairs sitting lonely in the corners.
No elderly people, and no bodies.
The entire nursing home was like an abandoned shell.
Guillermo stood in the empty corridor, panting heavily, as a massive wave of panic flooded his heart.
He spun around and rushed back into the courtyard, grabbing Miguel by the collar.
"Where are they?!" Guillermo's eyes were wide, his voice cracking with anxiety. "What did you mean when you said they're 'gone'?!"
"They left!!"
Miguel finally broke down, shouting through tears, "They left on their own!!"
"Explain yourself!" Felipe grew anxious too, stepping forward to demand sharply, "What do you mean they left on their own? Where did they go?!"
With trembling hands, Miguel pulled a neatly folded letter from his coat and held it out to Guillermo.
Guillermo snatched it away and unfolded the thin sheet of paper in the dim light of the rainy day.
On the letter was familiar handwriting.
Seeing this, Rick, Louis, and the others gathered around, holding their breath as they looked at the contents of the letter.