Early the next morning.
Bryan was up at dawn. He'd only just returned from outside the QZ yesterday, and there were still things to take care of—chief among them registering the child he'd brought back. Chen Shi needed a legal identity, which meant a trip to the Administration Center.
After a quick wash in the bathroom, he walked to the desk against the wall. A small writing board sat propped face-down against it.
He tugged the red cord and flipped the board over, hanging it on a nail in the wall to reveal the front side.
The board was covered with over thirty small slips of paper, each held in place by a magnet. Every slip bore a hand-drawn portrait—men, women, young, old. Among them, Anna and Marlene's faces were clearly visible.
Below each portrait were sparse notes: locations and times they'd been spotted, which district they lived in—nothing particularly sensitive at a glance.
Bryan pulled out yesterday's notebook, opened to the first page—the portrait of the middle-aged man he'd sketched.
Rip!
He tore the page free, grabbed a magnet from the board's corner, and stuck the new portrait in an open spot. He studied all the faces one more time, reinforcing his mental file on each of them, then flipped the board face-down again and left the bedroom.
"Rise and shine."
In the living room, he shook the little figure sleeping on the couch awake, then pulled a piece of bread from his backpack to enjoy as breakfast.
By the time they headed out, it was eight in the morning. Bryan led Chen Shi toward the District F Administration Center.
Today's primary objective: get the kid registered. He'd filed the preliminary paperwork at the Administration Center yesterday, so the documents should be ready today. But thinking about the mountain of bureaucratic procedures ahead, he already felt a headache coming on.
Along the way, Bryan started explaining the QZ's basic rules and structure to Chen Shi. Since the boy couldn't communicate with anyone else, it was better to minimize the chances of him making a mistake.
Chen Shi listened quietly, absorbing everything. Something about all of this felt strangely familiar, though he couldn't quite place it.
At the Administration Center, they submitted the required documents and forms. Then came the gauntlet of reviews and questioning. The QZ was willing to accept outside survivors, but verification was extremely strict—they lived in constant fear of Fireflies infiltrating under legitimate identities.
For children, however, the process was significantly streamlined, and obtaining legal status was much easier.
Since Chen Shi couldn't speak English, Bryan served as his full-time translator throughout the process. Given the special circumstances, it was also decided that Bryan would be responsible for the boy's temporary guardianship until he turned six.
In exchange, Bryan could collect an additional ration from the Supply Distribution Station during the guardianship period. As for how much that ration would actually amount to... only God knew.
"Finally done. What a hassle!" Bryan wiped the sweat from his forehead as they emerged from the Administration Center, clutching the freshly issued documents.
Chen Shi looked equally drained, but he tugged at Bryan's sleeve. "So where are we going now?"
"Why, to plunge you headfirst into the ocean of learning, of course!"
Bryan glanced at the boy, and something in his expression shifted to barely concealed schadenfreude.
Seeing that look, Chen Shi felt an inexplicable chill run down his spine.
Learning a new language required good materials, but in a world turned upside down, even within the QZ, places where you could freely browse books were few and far between. Beyond the school and the early childhood center—both off-limits to ordinary civilians—there was one facility designed specifically for adults.
Language barriers weren't exactly uncommon in the QZ. Before the outbreak, America had been called the world's melting pot, drawing people from every corner of the globe. After the disaster, the QZ had absorbed this diverse population, but communication problems made it impossible to explain the zone's rules to everyone—let alone manage them effectively. So a dedicated language center had been established, teaching American English. Attendance was mandatory. And it wasn't free.
The staff were either polyglots or former professional translators—people who'd been doing reasonably well for themselves before the world ended.
Most of the language issues had been sorted out in the early years. Five years in, almost no one still needed the service. But the center had been kept open as a precaution, and these days it mostly served as a casual meeting spot for language enthusiasts. The place was practically mothballed.
"In you go."
They stood before a two-story building. Bryan nodded toward the open front door.
The language center sat right next to the QZ's only early childhood center, in the heart of the central district and close to the school—prime real estate.
They walked through the entrance and found a young man in a brown shirt slumped against the front counter, propping his head on one hand, half asleep.
Tap. Tap.
"Hello!"
Bryan shook his head at the sight, then rapped his knuckles on the counter.
"Wha—!"
The dozing clerk startled awake, his supporting hand slipping. His head dipped before he caught himself, suddenly alert. When he saw who was standing there, he hastily wiped a thread of drool from the corner of his mouth. "H-hi. Can I help you?"
Bryan placed his ID, several documents, and a few supply cards on the counter. Then he stepped aside, gently pushing Chen Shi forward. "Teach this kid English. He's Chinese."
The clerk's eyes lit up at the supply cards—then his gaze fell on the military ID, and he stiffened. He looked at Bryan with something bordering on fear, and pushed some of the cards back with trembling fingers. "S-sir, you've given too many. We don't charge this much."
"Keep them. They're not a gift."
Bryan waved it off casually and pointed at Chen Shi's head. "Three months. I want to see results."
The clerk glanced at the four-year-old standing beside Bryan and winced. "Sir, that's... learning takes aptitude. I can't make any guarantees."
"Heh."
The response was exactly what Bryan expected. His smile vanished, replaced by something cold and sharp. His voice dropped. "Assign him the best teacher you have. If I don't see progress in three months, you'd better start preparing for the next supply run outside the walls—and pray you make it back."
The icy menace in his tone sent the clerk's face sheet-white. His knees buckled, and he collapsed into the chair behind him.
"Remember. Three months."
Bryan held the man's gaze for a long, pointed moment, then turned to Chen Shi. "You'll be studying English here from now on. They'll take good care of you."
Chen Shi looked at Bryan, then at the clerk who appeared to be on the verge of cardiac arrest, and felt the corner of his mouth twitch. I have no idea what you just said to him, but you definitely threatened the guy.
Ignoring the boy's expression, Bryan continued. "You know where I live. I'll let the gate guards know about you. From now on, you come here on your own and go home on your own. I'll leave food in the living room cabinet each morning—just grab it yourself. I've got a lot on my plate for the next few days, so I can't babysit. Consider it independence training. Got all that?"
Well, isn't that convenient for you. Just dump me and walk away. Looking at Bryan's matter-of-fact expression and that long string of high-sounding excuses, Chen Shi could do nothing but glare.
Then his eyes lit up with an idea. In his most innocent, childlike voice, he said, "But what if I get kidnapped by a bad person when I'm alone?"
"Kidnap you?"
Bryan gave him a look. Then a grin spread across his face. "Relax. Kidnapping you would accomplish nothing except getting them a government manhunt and one extra mouth to feed. You've got nothing to worry about."
"Alright, I'm off." He gave Chen Shi's head one last vigorous rub, laughed, and walked out without looking back.
Left alone, the four-year-old stood there, staring at his retreating figure with narrowed eyes, and slowly raised a middle finger.
...
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