Apocalyptic Hoarding Diary

Chapter 212 Forced Intervention

Xu Xiaoyan didn't hesitate for long. She pulled back and took her phone out of her pocket again. Unlocking it and bringing up the camera, her fingers were steady. She first switched to video mode, wanting to shoot a dynamic video for a stronger impact.

But after thinking about it, I gave up the idea. Recording takes longer, the file is larger, the upload is slower, and it might fail in the current network environment. More importantly, recording requires a more stable holding posture and a longer exposure time, which greatly increases the probability of being discovered.

She switched back to silent shooting mode, which was fast, discreet, and produced small individual files, allowing her to stop immediately even if she was discovered.

Taking a deep breath, she moved to the door again. This time, instead of lifting the curtain directly, she pressed her phone camera tightly against the barely noticeable gap along the top edge of the curtain—the spot she had just observed with her eyes.

The curtain was made of thick canvas with slight wear on the edges, forming a natural, irregular gap. She aimed her phone camera there, steadily supporting the phone with her fingers, and carefully adjusted the angle using the curtain's cover.

A distorted image, cut by canvas fibers, appeared in the viewfinder. She moved her phone slightly, searching for the best angle.

Click! — In the first shot, she tried to capture the entire scene of the two groups fighting. Due to the angle, she could only capture about two-thirds of the battlefield, but that was enough: the figures wrestling, the weapons being brandished, the rising white steam, the bodies curled up on the ground, and the scattered frozen fish and tools.

Click! — In the second photo, she zoomed in, focusing on a man who had just swung a woodcutter's knife, his face splattered with blood, roaring angrily. His eyes were wide open, his mouth gaping, blood scabs were forming on his forehead, and he exuded a pure, violent madness.

Snap! — The third picture, she pointed at the ground: a person lying down, curled up, with several frozen fish scattered around, a broken ice chisel, and an overturned plastic bucket.

She didn't dare take more photos; three were enough.

She immediately shrank back, turned the phone screen brightness down to the lowest setting, and could barely see any blurry outlines. Then she quickly checked the photo she had just taken—the image quality was somewhat blurry due to the light and obstructions, but the key elements were all there: violence, blood, and chaos.

After calming her rapid breathing, she unlocked her phone, turned off the camera, and went straight to the forum app. As soon as she entered the "Base Sights" section, she saw her own post.

It had been pushed to the most prominent position on the homepage of the forum, marked with a hot "HOT" icon. The number of replies following it made her pause: in just over ten minutes, there were already more than eighty replies, and the post title was displayed in bold, making it particularly eye-catching in the list.

She clicked to enter her own post.

[User_4821A]: "Really? Are you still there, OP? Be careful!"

[Fishing Guru Never Goes Home Empty-Handed]: "Judging from the background, this is a major ice fishing area on a large river! I was there yesterday! This is serious!"

[City residents watching the drama]: "More pictures please! What exactly happened? Did the people from the winter fishing operation make a move?"

[Veteran]: "This commotion... doesn't seem like a normal conflict. Is that an ice chisel on the ground? That thing could be deadly if it pierced someone."

[Messenger of Justice]: "Where are the base guards? Why aren't they dealing with this serious incident right away?"

[Shaking with fear]: "OP, be careful! Stop filming and run!"

[Information broker]: "Hey OP, do you have any more information? DM me, price negotiable."

[Those who love a good spectacle]: "Fight! Fight hard! It would be best if both sides were severely injured!"

The responses were varied, ranging from concern, doubt, curiosity, and indifference to those who, like "information brokers," sensed a business opportunity. The level of attention far exceeded her expectations, indicating that the riot had indeed touched a nerve with many people.

She didn't have time to read each reply carefully, so she quickly clicked the "edit" button in the upper right corner of the post, and the interface jumped to show her original content.

She left a few lines blank below the original text, her fingers flying across the virtual keyboard as she added content with shorter, more hurried, and even grammatically incorrect sentences—mimicking the frantic updating required in a dangerous environment:

[Latest update! Conflict escalates! Two groups are now engaged in a bloody brawl in an open area in front of the official looting point! The fight appears to have erupted over a dispute over loot or territory! Blood has been drawn, and multiple people are on the ground! The scene is horrific! The poster is risking their life to update! [Images][Images][Images]]

She quickly selected the three photos she had just risked taking, clicked upload, and an upload progress bar appeared on the screen. The thin blue line moved slowly to the right. The network signal became very unstable here, and the progress bar kept stopping and starting.

Her fingers trembled slightly from nervousness and the cold, almost unable to hold the phone properly. Her eyes were fixed on the progress bar, and she silently chanted: Faster, faster.

Finally, when the progress bar for the third photo reached the end, a "Upload successful" message popped up.

She immediately clicked "save," the page refreshed, and the updated post appeared before her eyes, with added text and three more impactful photos—especially the close-up of the man with his face covered in blood, which was enough to make anyone who saw it gasp.

Just then, as the post editing interface was about to close, she inadvertently glanced at the "Benefits of this Post" section at the bottom of the page, which was visible only to the poster.

The numbers displayed above made her pause slightly.

125.4 points.

She blinked to make sure she wasn't mistaken; it was 125.4, with a .4 after the decimal point, not an integer, indicating that it was indeed accumulated through a single payment of 0.2 points.

This number is still slowly rising at a visible rate—125.6…125.8…126.0…

Each jump represents another person paying the fee, and another small amount of points flowing into her account.

Xu Xiaoyan's tightly clenched lips finally couldn't help but curve upwards into a slight arc.

It was worth it; it's monetizing information without any initial investment.

It seems that those living within the high walls of the base, in a relatively safe but also dull and oppressive environment, have an unimaginable curiosity and willingness to spend on this "real drama" full of violence and danger outside the city. They use their meager points to buy excitement, to buy topics of conversation, and to buy a virtual experience of "witnessing danger."

Just as she was secretly pleased with the profit figures and pondering whether she could uncover more information, the sounds of fighting outside changed noticeably.

A sharp, continuous whistle rang out! The sound was extremely penetrating, instantly drowning out the roars and fighting noises.

Immediately following was an even more authoritative and resounding shout, amplified and echoing through the night air: "Stop! All of you stop!"

"Base guards! Lay down your weapons!"

"Hands behind your head and crouch down! Immediately!"

Xu Xiaoyan suddenly looked up and leaned closer to the crack in the door again.

Then, the personnel, dressed in dark gray uniforms with clear security markings on their armbands, finally arrived. There were quite a few of them, a dense, dark mass of at least forty or fifty people, in neat formation and moving swiftly.

The people in the front row held riot shields—thick, transparent shields that formed a moving wall; the people in the back row carried batons and riot forks, and some had pistols at their waists.

They acted like a wedge, swiftly and forcefully driving their shields forward, forcibly separating the still-fighting crowd. Some tried to resist, but were immediately subdued by several riot forks and pinned to the ground. Shouts, commands, sporadic struggles, and cries mingled together, but the overall situation was quickly brought under control.

Seeing this scene, Xu Xiaoyan understood that the sudden commotion on the ice had temporarily come to an end.

The two groups of people who were risking their lives for the fish were completely separated. The group with disheveled clothes was driven to the open space on the left, where they all squatted down facing the ice, with their hands covering their heads. Their weapons—kitchen knives, hammers, and ice picks—were confiscated and piled up to the side. Some people were still cursing under their breath, while others began to tremble with fear. Most people just squatted there numbly, staring blankly at the ground.

Another group, dressed in relatively uniform clothing, was controlled on the right side, also in a squatting position, but they were clearly more disciplined. Although they also had resentment and indignation on their faces, at least they did not continue to shout. Xu Xiaoyan noticed that several leaders in this group were whispering something to a man who looked like a squad leader of the security team, pointing their fingers from time to time towards the glacier and then towards the individual tourists, their expressions agitated.

On the ground, the traces of the battle were shocking. Dark red bloodstains stood out starkly against the gray-white ice. Some of the blood had frozen into ice crystals, while some was still flowing fresh. Scattered among the bloodstains were torn clothes, overturned buckets, crushed frozen fish, ripped garments, and even a few knocked-out teeth.

Four or five seriously injured people lay on the ground, groaning, and were helped by the arriving guards towards the base. Their injuries looked serious; some had blood flowing from their heads, and others had their arms bent at unnatural angles.

Besides the lingering fishy and sweaty smells, a faint stench of blood began to permeate the air. Several team members were cleaning up the bloodstains and sorting and collecting the scattered items, which would be used as evidence or disposed of as other things.

In the distance, the anglers who had fled in terror but later gathered back to watch were kept at bay by security personnel. They craned their necks, pointed and whispered among themselves, their faces showing relief at surviving the ordeal, fear of violence, and curiosity about the inside story of the incident. No one dared to cross the line, as the base's security team was known for its iron-fisted approach to dealing with violent incidents.

Inside the container, Xu Xiaoyan slowly withdrew her gaze. She could no longer stay here. After the security team brought the scene under control, the next steps were clear: isolation and questioning, on-site investigation, and registration of witness information.

The "fishing gear rental/sales" container is too close to the center of the conflict. Both the staff member on duty and she could be considered for questioning. Although she is just an "innocent passerby" hiding here, once questioned, the photos on her phone and her forum posts could become sources of trouble, making it very difficult to explain and potentially exposing her as an "information trafficker," which could be considered "creating or spreading panic" in some cases.

They had to leave quietly while the security personnel were still focused on controlling the main conflicting parties and maintaining order on the perimeter.

She waited for about a minute longer, listening carefully to the sounds outside. The shouts had lessened, replaced by brief exchanges of instructions between team members and muffled communications from walkie-talkies. The shouting between the two sides had also subsided, leaving only occasional coughs or suppressed sobs.

Right now.

Xu Xiaoyan gently pulled open the heavy insulated door curtain, and the cold air outside instantly enveloped her. It was at least ten degrees lower than inside the container, and she couldn't help but shiver, but her steps did not falter at all.

She quickly lowered her head, pulled her collar tighter, and let the thick brim of her hat completely cover the upper half of her face. Then she walked quickly a few meters along the shadow of the shipping container and blended into a small group of onlookers who were slowly leaving at the signal of the security guards.

The group consisted of about seven or eight people, all local anglers. Their faces showed lingering fear and an eagerness to get away from the trouble as quickly as possible. They kept their distance from each other, rarely spoke, and simply moved in the same direction, towards the road leading to the north gate of the fourth city's outer city.

Xu Xiaoyan naturally blended into the crowd. She cautiously observed her surroundings out of the corner of her eye. The security guards were still busy, and no one paid much attention to the group of onlookers who were being evacuated.

Twenty meters, thirty meters, fifty meters... She gradually moved away from the area still filled with tension with the crowd. The outline of the containers behind her became increasingly blurred in the twilight. After walking about a hundred meters and turning past a pile of discarded fishing nets and buoys, the view of the official site was completely obscured. All she could hear was the sound of the wind, the rustling footsteps of her companions, and the occasional suppressed cough.

Only then did Xu Xiaoyan breathe a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Her shoulders, which had been slightly tense, relaxed a little. She adjusted her direction slightly, moving herself closer to the middle of the road, where the view was relatively open and she was less likely to be ambushed by people or animals in the shadows by the roadside.

The sky was darkening at a visible speed, and the temperature seemed to be dropping. Xu Xiaoyan could feel her exposed cheeks and the tip of her nose starting to sting, and she had a feeling of ice forming in her nasal cavity when she breathed. She couldn't help but tighten her scarf again and quicken her pace.

After walking for about fifteen minutes, the outline of the outer city wall of the fourth city finally began to appear faintly. However, as Xu Xiaoyan gradually approached the foot of the city wall, before she had truly merged into the sparse crowd waiting to enter the city, she keenly sensed that the atmosphere near the city gate tonight was completely different from usual.

At this time of day in the past, most people would have numb faces, their emotions drained by the cold and the pressure of survival, leaving only instinctive shrinking and waiting. They rarely spoke and maintained a wary distance from one another. But tonight, at the foot of the city wall, the crowd did not line up in orderly queues, but gathered in small groups. They were no longer waiting numbly, but lowered their voices and discussed something intensely and rapidly.

Every face revealed in the dim light and howling wind showed a mixture of shock, fear, bewilderment, disbelief, and a sense of helplessness as if struck by a tremendous change and not yet able to react.