Apocalyptic Hoarding Diary

Chapter 236 Points for a House

Then, she dried her hands with the hand dryer and walked out of the bathroom naturally, without looking around or hesitating, as if she were just an ordinary passerby who had taken care of her personal needs and was leaving.

After leaving the restroom, she didn't head straight for the East District. Instead, she seemingly casually turned towards the area near the central courtyard exit where a public information screen, shimmering with a faint blue light, was located. There, many new residents who were still hesitating were pointing at the maps, regulations, and notices on the screen and discussing them in hushed tones.

Xu Xiaoyan blended naturally into the crowd. She stopped in front of a screen displaying the huge words "Provisional Regulations on Residential Management in Area B". Her gaze seemed focused as she browsed through the dense, tedious clauses line by line. Occasionally, her fingers would slide across the touchscreen to switch pages and view different chapters.

However, she devoted most of her attention to her surroundings. She stood there, her body slightly turned to an angle that allowed her to observe the information screen while also covering a large area with her peripheral vision. Her peripheral vision slowly and systematically swept across the information screen area in all directions with imperceptible amplitude and frequency.

The middle-aged man leaning against the pillar, constantly checking his wristband with an anxious expression, was most likely just waiting for someone, his mind racing; the young couple still whispering and arguing about their bad lottery results were clearly focused on their own and each other's frustration, posing zero threat; the group of students-looking young people in matching old tracksuits, walking together and loudly discussing how to get to the "public training field" while pointing at a 3D map, were boisterous, lacked composure, and posed very little threat...

There was no trace of the three people, nor were there any other stares that were clearly scrutinizing, assessing, or malicious.

The information screen area was well-lit, and the overhead surveillance cameras rotated slowly and regularly, clearly recording everything below.

The flow of people here is relatively stable. It offers a degree of anonymity while being under public surveillance and within the view of a large number of "normal" people. It is a safe place to temporarily observe, buffer, and allow oneself to "revert to normalcy".

The tension that had been building up inside her ever since she was stopped eased slightly during the continued, uninterrupted observation. But she knew that true safety would come once she reached her own private "cell" where she could lock the door.

A few minutes later, she seemed to have finally "read through" the tedious regulations, or rather, completed a preliminary safety assessment of the surrounding environment. She turned around and smoothly merged into the flow of people that the sign on the wall clearly pointed to the "East District Residential Passage".

His gaze, beneath the brim of his hat, remained habitually alert, scanning the road ahead and the occasional figures brushing past him.

The moment you step into the East District, the information you receive from your senses subtly changes; the East District presents a quiet, orderly atmosphere with a sense of alienation.

The passageway is wide, but lower than the central hall, giving it a more distinct sense of "indoor" and "exclusivity".

The floor is a dark gray composite material with a slightly textured, non-slip surface that is almost silent when stepped on. The lighting comes from long strip LED lights embedded in the ceiling recesses. The walls are made of some kind of light gray synthetic material with a matte finish and a slightly cool feel.

At intervals, illuminated area signs and simple arrows are embedded in the wall, the blue and white light standing out clearly on the matte wall surface.

However, after the interception in the corridor, Xu Xiaoyan's nerves did not relax at all. She deliberately slowed down her walking speed, keeping her body slightly turned to one side of the wall, as if she was only attracted by the spaciousness and cleanliness of the corridor and was slowly adapting to the new environment.

Her gaze swept across the people coming and going or pausing briefly in the passageway. She observed not only their directions, but also their postures, expressions, and interaction patterns. Soon, several figures aroused her high alert.

At a T-shaped corner leading to different sub-areas, a lean man in a dark brown jacket leaned casually against a silver-gray fire cabinet, fiddling with an old-fashioned metal lighter that made a monotonous "click" sound.

But his gaze wasn't fixed on the lighter or any particular spot; instead, it swept slowly across each face that turned from the main passage into this side street in a regular and discreet rhythm.

His gaze would linger for a fraction of a second longer on those who were alone, dressed plainly or even shabbily, with the bewilderment typical of newcomers or the lingering complex emotions from the lottery draw. His eyes held no emotion, only a calm assessment.

Not far away, another person wearing a baseball cap and a gray hoodie was looking up at the 3D model of the East District embedded in the wall, his finger seemingly swiping the screen to check the details.

But his head was tilted slightly at an unnatural angle, his ears were imperceptibly turned toward the center of the passage, and the muscles in his neck were slightly tense—he was clearly not looking at the map carefully, but rather intently trying to catch the whispers of the passersby.

When conversations drift by, especially when keywords like "number," "room," "size," and "change or not," are faintly heard, his fingers swiping the screen pause slightly, and his ear under the brim of his hat seems to twitch.

Further away, near a staircase leading to the next floor, two or three people seemed to be talking in hushed tones, their voices so low that the content was indistinct.

However, they stood in a clever way facing the passageway, their posture relaxed, but their eyes would quickly scan the passersby from time to time, paying particular attention to those who were holding access cards or slips of paper and looking down to check information.

Their conversations were more like a cover; their real attention was always on the outside, constantly assessing each potential "customer" or "target."

The demeanor of these people is completely different from that of the new residents who are truly exhausted from the long journey and emotional ups and downs and just want to find their "cubicle" to rest as soon as possible, or the new neighbors who can't contain their excitement and point things out as they walk.

They exude a focused and patient attitude, as if they were "working." The seemingly "humane" and tacitly approved "voluntary transaction" rules of the authorities seem to have quickly degenerated into a semi-public "resource plunder" prelude, tinged with soft coercion and precise calculation, the moment the allocation was implemented.

Xu Xiaoyan knew that holding "063" in the East District was an absolute advantage, but it could also be the biggest risk. So, she stopped near the edge of the passage, in an inconspicuous shallow depression formed by the pipeline layout.

The grille near a large vent provides a good amount of background noise from the continuous low hum of the airflow, which can interfere with close-range eavesdropping to some extent. The location is also relatively concealed and not easily noticed.

She feigned exhaustion from her long journey, slowly taking out a coarse flour biscuit wrapped in a plastic bag from her backpack, and then pulling out a bottle of mineral water.

With her back to the main flow of people in the passageway, she lowered her head slightly and began to slowly break apart the hard, dry biscuit, chewing it in small bites, occasionally taking a sip of water. Her movements were slow and deliberate, making her look like an ordinary migrant who was tired and hungry and needed to replenish her strength before continuing to find her way.

However, under the natural cover of chewing and swallowing, her gaze was lowered, but she used her excellent peripheral vision to take in the entire passageway area in front of her, especially the "observation points" she had just noticed and their surroundings without making a sound.

She needed to see for herself how this so-called "transaction" actually "took place" at the entrance to the East District, and understand the rules in order to better avoid or take advantage of it.

Before long, a person matching the "target" appeared. He was a stout middle-aged man with a simple joy on his face, and his face was even slightly flushed with excitement.

He gripped the access card tightly in one hand, and awkwardly raised the other, his eyes shining as he looked up at the illuminated sign hanging above the corridor, word by word: "Single Residential Units 16001-16500 →".

His lips moved as if he were silently reciting the numbered range to confirm his direction. Then, his steps became lighter, even carrying a hint of excitement that was inconsistent with his age and physique. Without hesitation, he walked towards the fork in the passageway of the numbered range "16001-16500" indicated by the arrow, seemingly unconsciously and very softly humming a tuneless tune.

Just as the chubby uncle was about to reach the fork in the road and step into the less crowded side passage, four men, from different "idle" spots, naturally surrounded him in a manner that was either "just passing by" or "naturally turning around," forming a loose yet effective semi-circular encirclement that blocked the chubby uncle's path and main lateral movement space.

The four men were dressed much more elegantly than the fat man. They all wore polite, business-like expressions, without any menacing look or obvious threatening gestures. However, their psychologically intimidating surrounding posture instantly froze the fat man's smile.

He stood there somewhat bewildered, subconsciously pulling the hand holding the access card closer to his chest, while his other free hand unconsciously gripped the hem of his cotton-padded coat, his eyes filled with surprise and confusion.

There were no loud threats, no physical shoving, and not even any impolite stares. The man wearing frameless glasses spoke first, "Brother, just arrived? You seem quite happy. You must have gotten a good room." As he spoke, his gaze seemingly casually swept over the fat man's tightly clenched hands. Although he couldn't see the exact number, his earlier whispers were enough to explain something.

As soon as he finished speaking, a man with a thin face and lively eyes on his right immediately chimed in, speaking as if he were discussing an ordinary commodity on the market, getting straight to the point: "Interested in transferring? I can make an offer, two thousand points, cash on delivery, transfer at the service station immediately, no delays, no debts." He said it very decisively.

Before the chubby uncle could even process the information, the third person, a stocky man, immediately shook his head, seemingly dissatisfied with his companion's offer. He said, "Two thousand is a bit too little, brother. I'll offer three thousand points." He emphasized the number "three thousand" and looked at the chubby uncle with a questioning gaze.

The chubby man was completely dumbfounded, overwhelmed by the ever-increasing "bids," his brain seemingly shut down. He opened his mouth, uttering a few muffled "uh... ah..." sounds, but couldn't form a complete sentence.

He seemed to instinctively want to shake his head and refuse, but when his gaze swept over the four men in front of him who carried an invisible pressure, his courage to refuse turned into fear and hesitation.

At this moment, the fourth man, who hadn't said much and was standing a little behind, and who seemed more composed and experienced, spoke up directly: "I'll offer four thousand points."

He looked directly into the astonished eyes of the portly man and said firmly, "If you're willing, we can go to the service station now to complete the transfer. This shouldn't be hard to calculate, right? Four thousand points are enough for you to settle down and you'll still have plenty left over to improve your life."

Four thousand points! This number not only made the fat uncle's eyes widen instantly, but even the three people who "bid" next to him fell silent for a moment and exchanged glances. It seemed that after evaluation, they felt that the price exceeded their bottom line or the budget for this operation, or perhaps this was the "final bid" stage that they had planned.

They shrugged, took a half-step back, and vacated the center stage to their highest bidder, signaling their withdrawal from the competition.

The struggle on the fat man's face was obvious, but it only lasted for a few seconds. He licked his dry, chapped lips, his Adam's apple bobbed, and finally, the struggle on his face subsided. He slowly nodded, and his dry voice squeezed out from his throat, "Okay...okay...change."

The man who offered the highest price finally showed a faint smile. He stepped forward and gently put his arm around the chubby uncle's shoulder, which was stiff from nervousness. He said in a gentle tone, "That's right. Come on, I'll take you to the service station to complete the transfer right now. It'll be quick, don't worry."

He almost half-guided and half-supported the chubby uncle, who hadn't fully recovered from the shock of the huge points, and led him back the way they came, towards the management service station near the entrance to the East District.

The other three men quickly dispersed, returning to the seemingly "leisurely" background in the passageway, their eyes already calmly searching for their next potential target.

The entire process, from gathering to closing the deal, took only two or three minutes. It was brief, efficient, and didn't even attract much attention from the few residents in the distance who were actually in a hurry and focused on their own affairs. It seemed to be a commonplace "resource optimization" transaction where one party was willing to give and the other was willing to receive.

Xu Xiaoyan silently swallowed the last bit of dry, hard, and rough biscuit crumbs in her mouth, which, mixed with the cold mineral water, made her feel a bit choked up. She tightened the cap of the empty water bottle and stuffed it back into the side pocket of her backpack.

She sighed helplessly, knowing full well that this was by no means a simple, fair, and voluntary transaction, but a typical, well-organized "hunting" operation that utilized information asymmetry, psychological pressure, and points advantages, with a clear division of labor.