Axolotl Translations

The high-rises were all gone, and the garden villas tucked among them hadn’t fared much better.

But there’s always an exception.

One particular two-story house—ironically the worst-located of them all, standing closest to the fallen towers—had somehow survived unscathed, miraculously dodging the cascade of debris.

Its walls were peeling, its doors and windows worn, and thick, green ivy climbed three sides of the structure, blending it almost seamlessly into the overgrown ruins.

Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock.

Gu Mengran rapped on the dark green double doors, pressing his ear against the cool surface, straining to catch any sound from within.

Seconds ticked by. Then minutes.

Silence. Not a single noise.

He leaned in closer, inspecting the lock—a simple mechanical lock.

In his previous life, survival had forced him to learn lockpicking, and with one glance, he knew—a tension wrench and a sturdy tool would pop this lock open in no time.

But…

They were just looking for a place to rest, not breaking in like burglars. What if someone was inside?

Gu Mengran hesitated, then decided to give it one last shot. Knocking again, he raised his voice.

“Anyone there? If someone’s inside, say something. If not, I’m coming in.”

Before he even finished speaking—

The door swung open from the inside.

Gu Mengran instinctively stepped back, fingers tightening around the chainsaw, thumb hovering over the switch, ready to react.

And then—

Creeeeak~

The security door creaked open, its rusted hinges groaning like stiff, neglected joints. The sound sent an unpleasant chill down his spine.

A tall figure stood in the dim light, their silhouette blurred by the shadows. Dark brown work pants. A plain, cheap white T-shirt…

The more Gu Mengran looked, the more familiar they seemed. Something was off. He snapped his head up.

“Liang Zhao?”

Who else could it be? Gu Mengran raised a hand, pointing at the ivy-covered walls in confusion.

“Didn’t you say you were checking the area? Why are you inside someone’s house?”

“I followed the outer wall and ended up in the backyard. There’s an unlocked back door.”

Liang Zhao swung the door open wider, letting the flashlight beam fall directly at Gu Mengran’s feet.

“Come in. I did a quick sweep of the first floor—didn’t see anyone.”

“That’s good. Did you find a basement entrance or anything useful?”

Gu Mengran stepped inside, following Liang Zhao.

“Didn’t have a chance to look properly. Heard you knocking and came to open the door.”

“Got it. Let’s move quickly.”

This residential complex was clearly old, and the two-story house followed a design trend from years ago. It was what people liked to call a private villa, but in reality, it wasn’t much different from a self-built rural home.

There was no front yard—the entrance led straight into the foyer, which opened into the dining and living area.

Liang Zhao had only told half the story earlier. It was true—there was no one here.

But the place was full of signs of recent habitation.

The windows and doors were tightly shut. The dining table was cluttered with trash—instant noodle wrappers, empty chip bags—all the hallmarks of fast food and packaged snacks.

A thick layer of dust covered the marble coffee table, with only one thing placed on top—an empty canned fish tin.

It had been picked clean, not a single scrap of food left inside. The label had been torn off, making it impossible to tell what the can originally held.

All of this pointed to one thing: someone had lived here after the earthquake.

Despite the mess and filth, they couldn’t find any spoiled food.

Since they were already here, Gu Mengran and Liang Zhao searched thoroughly, their flashlights cutting through the dim space. They didn’t hold back—no attempts to be quiet, no tiptoeing around.

And it paid off.

Ten minutes later, they stumbled upon a storage room near the backyard, used for cleaning supplies.

But inside the storage room stood something that didn’t belong—a heavy-duty security door.

No one would bother installing a security door in a storage room unless it led somewhere important—like, for example, a basement.

Following protocol, Gu Mengran knocked and called out.

Then, they waited two minutes at the door.

Silence.

No movement inside.

With no one answering, Gu Mengran retrieved a lock-picking tool from his pack, crouched in front of the door, and began working on the lock.

Liang Zhao’s brow furrowed slightly, his gaze fixed on those nimble, well-defined hands. His usually calm eyes flickered with a trace of surprise, but he said nothing. Instead, he simply held the flashlight steady, illuminating Gu Mengran’s work.

It didn’t take long.

Within three minutes—click.

The sharp sound of the lock releasing echoed in the quiet storage room.

Gu Mengran’s face lit up with triumph. He turned to Liang Zhao with a smug grin, as if expecting praise.

But just as he was about to push the door open, something gleamed in the narrow gap between the frame—a sudden flash of silver under the flashlight’s beam.

The light reflected too brightly, momentarily blinding him.

Gu Mengran squinted.

What was that? A flashlight? A mirror?

—Shit. It’s a machete.

A razor-sharp knife, its edge gleaming with menace, was aimed right at the doorway.

Gu Mengran’s pupils contracted. Before he could react, Liang Zhao grabbed his shoulder and yanked him back with full force.

The next second—bam! Gu Mengran landed on the floor with a hard thud, skidding back nearly two meters.

“Watch out, Liang Zhao! Someone’s inside! He’s got a—”

Bang!

Before Gu Mengran could finish, Liang Zhao acted without hesitation.

He didn’t wait for the figure inside to charge forward—instead, he slammed his foot against the security door with full force.

The impact was brutal.

The door swung open violently, slamming against the wall repeatedly before it finally stilled.

But in the brief seconds that followed, the person behind the door was gone.

All that remained was the dull thud of a basketball bouncing away into the darkness.

And then—

A pained groan echoed from within.

“Ugh… ow… ow…”

The pained groans echoed through the space, growing closer and clearer.

Liang Zhao bent down, picking up the chainsaw from the floor. Flashlight in hand, he stepped further inside.

Worried there might be others lurking, Gu Mengran scrambled to his feet, rubbing his sore backside. He pulled out another chainsaw and quickly followed Liang Zhao.

The moment they stepped in, a narrow staircase came into view, leading downward.

The stairs were steep and cramped, just over a dozen steps, but this wasn’t a true basement—the space felt tight and suffocating, and at the bottom, there was another security door.

Gu Mengran’s gaze followed the beam of Liang Zhao’s flashlight, scanning the surroundings before settling at the bottom of the stairs.

A thin, unremarkable young man lay sprawled on the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Beside him, a pair of black-framed glasses and a gleaming knife had been knocked aside.

Clearly, he’d been hiding behind the door—and had taken a full-force kick from Liang Zhao, sending him flying down the stairs.

Judging by the way he was clutching the back of his head, the fall had been far from gentle.

Hearing footsteps approaching, the young man panicked. He sat up hurriedly, one hand rubbing his head, while the other fumbled around on the floor, searching—whether for his glasses or the knife, it was unclear.

Liang Zhao beat him to it.

Without hesitation, he strode down and kicked both the glasses and the knife out of reach.

The young man, despite having attacked first, now looked utterly terrified.

Abandoning his head injury, he stared at them in horror, hands bracing against the floor as he instinctively crawled backward.

“W-Who are you? What do you want?!”

Gu Mengran peeked out from behind Liang Zhao, still shaken. His tone wasn’t exactly friendly.

“Hold on, man—you were the one who came at me first, swinging that knife at my head. And now you’re playing the victim?”

At these words, the young man, who had been panicking moments ago, suddenly straightened his back, his voice rising in defiance.

“This is my house! You two broke in—what was I supposed to do, wave at you and invite you in for tea?! Should I have just left the door open and let you rob me blind?!”

“Hey, you—”

Gu Mengran started forward, ready to argue, but Liang Zhao held up a hand to stop him. He reluctantly stayed put, though he wasn’t about to back down.

“We knocked, alright?” Gu Mengran huffed. “From the front door all the way in here, we knocked every step of the way. Maybe you didn’t hear us upstairs, but this door?”

He turned and pointed at it.

“We definitely knocked before trying to open it. We even called out to check if anyone was inside! You just sat there in total silence—what were we supposed to think? That the place was empty! If you didn’t want to open up, fine, but you could’ve at least made a sound. One word, and we wouldn’t have touched the lock.”

The young man wasn’t having it.

“What am I, a mind reader?! How was I supposed to know what your deal was? How was I supposed to know that if I made a sound, you’d actually leave? You trespassed, and now you’re trying to act like you had the right to do it? I was just defending myself—what’s wrong with that?!”

Their chainsaws might as well have been decorations at this point. The young man showed no sign of backing down, his voice growing louder and more heated. Gu Mengran was getting just as worked up, both of them now red-faced and arguing at full volume.

And to make things worse—the guy actually had a point.

Gu Mengran’s confidence took a hit. He grumbled under his breath, his voice much quieter now.

“Tch. If we were actually bad guys, you think we’d bother knocking first?”

The young man froze.

For the first time, he had nothing to say.

His gaze dropped to the floor, lips slightly parted. A long silence stretched between them—then, after about a minute, he muttered, almost to himself: “…So you’re not from Jiu Street?”

“Huh? Jiu Street? What are you talking about?” Gu Mengran was completely lost.

The young man stiffened, then suddenly looked up. His previously dull and lifeless eyes lit up with excitement, his voice urgent.

“Wait—you’re not from Shancheng? Where did you come from? Where are you going? Can you take me with you?!”

Gu Mengran had no idea what caused the sudden shift in attitude, but, considering they were technically in the wrong for breaking into his home, he decided to soften his approach.

Before answering, he adjusted his tone to be calmer, more polite.

“Before we get into all that—mind if we take a look around first?”

Time was running out. They still had a group waiting outside.

Gu Mengran tilted his chin, his gaze landing on the tightly shut security door beside them.

The young man blinked in confusion, then squinted as if trying to focus. He patted the ground around him with both hands.

“…Look around? For what?” His voice held a hint of suspicion. “Also, can you help me find my glasses? I can’t see a thing. You mean my basement?”

“Yeah. We’ve been traveling all day, and we need a place to rest.” Gu Mengran’s voice remained steady. “Are you the only one here? We need to check if this place is safe before we talk any further.”

Now that Liang Zhao was keeping watch, Gu Mengran wasn’t worried about getting attacked. He walked over, picked up the black-framed glasses from the floor, inspected them for damage, and handed them back.

“…Traveling?”

The young man repeated the word in a low murmur, as if savoring the idea.

Then, just like that, his entire demeanor changed. His excitement was visible, almost palpable.

He put on his glasses, scrambled to his feet, and without another word, hurried toward the security door.

“You can rest here. Stay as long as you need. That’s no problem at all,” the young man said quickly. “I can even provide food for you. I—I’ve prepared well. I have more than enough. You won’t go hungry or thirsty.”

With a soft click, the key turned smoothly in the lock.

But instead of opening the door right away, the young man looked back at them, eyes bright with excitement.

“As long as you promise to take me with you,” he said, his voice filled with conviction, “I guarantee—you won’t have to worry about food or supplies the entire way.”

Not have to worry about food?

What, a few peanuts? He’s this confident while dead drunk?

Gu Mengran almost scoffed. He was about to ask, Do you even know how many of us there are?—but before he could speak, the young man twisted the handle and shoved the door open.

What they saw inside left them stunned.

It wasn’t just a basement. It was a fully equipped survival shelter—massive and immaculate.

The main living area alone was at least thirty-four square meters, complete with a sofa, television, air purifier—everything designed for comfort. The space was cozy yet high-end, well-furnished with all the essentials.

On either side of a long, dimly lit hallway, there were separate rooms—a kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom, all in perfect condition. Aside from being a bit dark, this place wasn’t just livable—it was more luxurious than most people’s homes.

The sight was already impressive enough.

But then—the far-end door of the hallway slowly creaked open.

And that was when Gu Mengran completely lost it.

For a moment, he seriously questioned if this guy had also come back from the future.

Beyond the door was a warehouse-sized storage room—so huge it could rival a shipping dock.

Shelves overflowed with supplies. Piles of tools and gear stacked high. An endless stockpile of food, water, and essential goods.

Gu Mengran finally understood why this guy had been so confident about keeping them “well-fed.”

Because this—this was enough supplies to last one person for years.

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