While descending the stairs, the cube transformed back into a robot. It hadn't revealed its identity earlier—humans sometimes acted impulsively against their own interests, so Mofang decided it was better to remain hidden in this world.
At the end of the second-floor corridor was an open window. Mofang leaped through it, weaving between zombies as it headed toward the school's side gate. Beyond the gate stood the large supermarket. While some might think hiding in a supermarket with food and water was ideal, those resources weren't infinite. Without proper management, supplies would spoil due to temperature and environmental changes. Even if they hid there, could they stay forever? The food might last half a year at best—what then? Starve to death? Smashing the side gate's lock, Mofang dashed across the street to the supermarket.
The power was out, leaving the supermarket pitch-black except for flickering emergency lights. Their dim glow suggested the batteries would die within hours.
Mofang didn't need light—its sensors mapped the interior clearly.
"Tsk, this place is crawling with zombies. Better not let the food get contaminated." Rolling on wheeled feet, it bypassed household goods and snacks, heading straight for the prepared foods section. Sealed meats hadn't spoiled yet, and they provided far more energy than instant noodles.
Grabbing a shopping cart, Mofang vaulted onto a refrigerated display and began tossing in vacuum-sealed items—pig trotters, cured meats, bacon, sausages. A zombie in a supermarket uniform nearby watched curiously, jaws slack.
"Enough meat. Now water—sixty people will need multiple trips." After loading the cart, Mofang pushed it to the beverage aisle, stacking large water jugs and adding toilet paper. The students' personal supplies were surely exhausted by now.
Dragging the cart outside with a rope tied to its transformed remote-control car body, Mofang sped toward the school.
In a nearby apartment building:
"Look! That toy car again—it's hauling water and meat!" Growling stomachs echoed as the cart disappeared around a corner.
"Mofang, we're out of gas for the stove. How do we cook...?" Zhang Xiaowen's voice crackled through its comms. The robot nearly swerved into a lamppost. *No gas? Eat crackers or ready-made food! Why must every meal require cooking?*
"I'm rescuing people. I'll bring back chocolate, popcorn, and drinks later."
"Really? Yay! I'll wait!"
Mofang mused that whether on Huaxia Planet or Earth, it seemed destined to serve humans.
Finding an open first-floor window, it tossed supplies into a classroom before somersaulting inside. Reloading the cart, it struggled through zombie-filled halls toward the side staircase.
Send people down! Supplies on the second floor!" Transforming back into a toy car, Mofang waited.
Six oddly-dressed youths rushed down, eyes gleaming—until three bullets cratered the floor at their feet. The car's mini-gun whirred. "No looting! Back off!"
A chubby student with a metal pipe descended with two classmates. "We'll distribute this fairly," he promised. As they hauled the cart upstairs, Mofang kept its gun trained on the thwarted looters. Survival required order, not chaos.
After ten supply runs, students regained strength in the third-floor classroom. A teacher approached as Mofang prepared to leave.
"What...happened to the world?"
"Global apocalypse. Over 80% dead. T-virus. Rain gave survivors immunity—don't get bitten. Destroy zombies physically."
Silence fell.
"What do we do now?"
"Survive or perish." Mofang departed. With its warship-body gone, this tiny avatar could do little more.