Doomsday Paradise

Chapter 4: Ten Minutes with "Mom"

*"I’ll f*****g kill you selfish bastards! Sitting in your cars… with AC… while we suffer! Huh?!"*

A slurred, furious shout erupted as something heavy slammed into Lin Sanjiu’s car door. She swerved violently, brakes screeching, barely avoiding a collision with the roadside barrier.

Glancing back, she saw a shirtless man drenched in sweat, hurling bricks at the red Mazda she’d just passed. *"You… you heartless pricks… get out here—"* Mid-curse, his body swayed and crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

*Just collateral damage.*

Lin Sanjiu exhaled shakily, tearing her gaze from the rearview mirror. The signs were unmistakable: manic aggression, delirium, collapse—all symptoms of severe dehydration in extreme heat.

Gritting her teeth, she accelerated toward Zhu Mei’s neighborhood.

Twenty minutes later, her headlights illuminated the faded *"Rongjun Community"* sign. She parked, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and approached the rusted iron gate with her phone’s flashlight.

The area, already quiet in normal times, now felt like a ghost town. Yet as she neared the gate, an instinctual prickle of unease made her freeze.

She scanned the darkness. Nothing.

After two tense minutes, she relaxed slightly. *Maybe "Keen Instincts" isn’t infallible.*

Rongjun Community’s ’90s-era apartments were guarded by a locked iron gate after midnight. Lin Sanjiu rattled the heavy brass padlock, the metallic clangs echoing unnervingly. No response from the pitch-black guard booth.

*"Guard? I’m here to visit Unit 2! Can you open up?"* Her voice carried far in the stillness. Only silence answered.

With a sigh, she assessed the gate’s anti-climb spikes. *No easy way over.*

Steeling herself, she pressed a palm to the iron bars. *"Store it."*

White light flickered weakly in her hand, stuttering like a dying bulb. The gate resisted—converting something this massive strained her limits. Her muscles screamed; her breath came in ragged gasps. Just as she was about to collapse, a final *snap* signaled success.

The gate vanished. In its place lay a card depicting a crude crayon sketch of iron bars, captioned:

**[Iron Gate]**

- Installed at Rongjun Community in 2012. Heavy. Useless.

- **Function:** Can’t stand upright unless mounted in a wall.

*Typical.* She pocketed the card and sprinted toward Building 2.

The guard booth remained dark.

By the time she reached Unit 401, she was wheezing like an overworked engine. The gate conversion had drained her; climbing four flights left her voice trembling. *"Zhu—Zhu Mei! It’s Xiaojiu! Open up!"*

No response. Dread pooled in her stomach. *If she’s unconscious inside…* She’d already used three conversions today—corpse, hair, gate. Only one remained, and Zhu Mei’s apartment had *two* doors.

Frustrated, she pounded the door until her fists ached. The heat was worsening—it had to be over 55°C now. How could an ordinary person survive this?

Her throat burned. She gulped water, then raised her hand to knock again—

The door creaked open.

*"Zhu Mei, are you—?"* Relief died in her throat as the flashlight beam revealed not her friend, but a woman in her fifties with a round, gentle face. The woman flinched at the light, but not before Lin Sanjiu saw enough.

Her phone clattered to the floor.

*"…Mom?"*

Her mind short-circuited. *"Why are you—how are you here? What’s going on?"*

Tears welled in the woman’s eyes. *"Come in, quick! I’ve been so worried—"* She pulled Lin Sanjiu inside.

Dazed, Lin Sanjiu stood in the entryway, her thoughts churning. A familiar white shoe cabinet—one she’d helped Zhu Mei pick out—caught her eye.

*"Why are you at Zhu Mei’s? Where is she?"*

Her "mother" wiped her cheeks and gestured to a chair. *"When the blackout hit, I panicked. Couldn’t reach you, so I came here… Zhu Mei, she…"* A sob. *"She didn’t make it. Such a good girl… Don’t blame yourself."*

Lin Sanjiu turned off her flashlight. Darkness swallowed the room.

*"I… I prepared myself for this on the way over."* Her voice was barely audible. *"At least you’re safe. That’s what matters."*

Her "mother" nodded eagerly. *"Your father’s fine too—resting in the bedroom. I’ll get him—"*

*"I’ll come."* Lin Sanjiu stood abruptly.

As the woman turned toward the bedroom, Lin Sanjiu seized a chair and swung with all her strength.

The impact sent "Mom" crumpling to the floor.

Breathing hard, Lin Sanjiu kept a white-knuckled grip on the chair, eyes locked on the bedroom door.

It flew open. A tall, broad-shouldered man stormed out, his features—illuminated by faint streetlight—uncannily mirroring her own.

*"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? SHE’S YOUR MOTHER!"* he roared.

Lin Sanjiu’s reply was ice.

*"I wish she were."* She tightened her grip. *"My parents died in a car crash ten years ago. I identified their bodies. I buried them."* Her muscles trembled with exhaustion. *"Who the hell are you two? And where’s my friend?"*

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