On the seventh day of the end of the world, Lin Zhao picked up three people.
A sixty-year-old cleaning lady, a ten-year-old autistic boy, a social animal with a collapsed appendicitis wound.
Everyone said she was crazy - this wasn't called forming a team, it was called opening a nursing home.
Lin Zhao did not explain.
She just exchanged her aunt's nose, which she had sniffed for thirty years in a chemical factory when she was young, into a safe haven in a drug zone; she exchanged the boy's talent for maps, which he could never forget at a glance, into a way to survive in the city;
Later, some people said that she was the uncrowned king.
She shook her head. She is just the biggest headhunter in this wasteland - she never hoards rice or noodles, only people.
Everyone is a walking skill card.
Swipe once, redeem one life.
And what she has to do is to find the trump cards that have been thrown away as useless in a world where natural disasters rotate like four seasons, and send them to the right position.
Then late at night when the flood reached my knees, I received a system message:
"Your redemption coupon has arrived: Water Rescue Team × 20 people"
"Remarks: I haven't forgotten that promise three months ago."
Intention: Trust is not free prostitution, and help is not charity.