Back at home, Ethan put down the clothes rail, and his mind was full of the bloated female corpse that had been eaten down to blood. His mind was very confused, and it took a long time to calm down again.

"Now should I stay here, waiting for rescue, or find a way to leave here and find a way out? Or are there survivors like me in this city?"

Ethan took off his shoes and socks that had just gotten soaked when he entered the water.

Putting on a pair of clean shoes, he walked to the balcony window, thinking.

Looking at the water outside the window, there were sporadic high-rise buildings emerging from the water in the distance. All these buildings that could emerge from the water were thirty-story and above.

Looking at these buildings emerging from the water, Ethan couldn't help but wonder if there were any survivors like himself in these buildings? If so, it would be better to find them than to be alone.

Of course, there were also unknown risks along the way. The corpse that had been eaten just now left a shadow on Ethan's heart, always making him feel a little uneasy.

"Or should I stay temporarily and wait for rescue? Maybe a rescue team will come soon, but that's not guaranteed."

The only thing Ethan felt fortunate about was that he lived alone. To save trouble, he had prepared a few bags of instant noodles and bought some biscuits and bread for breakfast, all stacked in the refrigerator.

It’s okay to last for four or five days just by himself.

After thinking about it for a while, Ethan decided to prepare for both options.

One was to stay here temporarily, hoping that there would be a turnaround or rescue workers would appear. The second was to make a simple raft by hand. If no rescuers appeared in the next few days, he would have to venture out on the raft and actively seek other ways to survive.

After making his decision, Ethan's heart became a little more relaxed.

First, he took out a bag of biscuits from the refrigerator and tore it open.

He started to get busy while eating.

The only thing he felt fortunate about was that the water supply hadn't stopped yet, so he took out the kettle.

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He filled it with water and then turned on the stove to boil it.

He still used old-fashioned canned liquefied petroleum gas, but he rarely cooked with it. This month, the stove had been lit only once—when Janifer and a few friends came over for dinner. He hardly used it when he was alone.

Now he was grateful for having this tank of liquefied gas. Otherwise, it would be difficult to get hot water right now.

"Better stock up on more water. Although the water hasn't stopped yet, since the power is out, the water could stop at any time."

Although Ethan didn’t know the exact reason, perhaps due to separate utility lines, the water supply hadn’t been cut off, despite the power outage.

In addition to preparing hot water, Ethan searched his home for various tools. Soon, he found some iron nails, two screwdrivers, a vise, scissors, a lighter, a hammer, and even a kitchen knife and a few fruit knives. He collected everything and stacked them on the coffee table in the living room, ready for use.

After finishing the biscuits and drinking some water, Ethan began to work. His idea was to go up to the top floor and release heavy smoke to attract the attention of any outside rescuers—assuming there were any.

Afterward, he would make a simple raft in case the need arose to escape.

He gathered some old clothes from his home, including a quilt, a pair of plastic slippers, and several plastic bags. Taking a lighter, he prepared to head out.

He wanted to carry these things to the roof, then set them on fire, hoping to create a lot of dense smoke.

If a rescue team saw a large amount of man-made smoke here, they would surely know there were survivors and come to his aid.

Ethan opened the door and was about to step out with his belongings but suddenly stopped, his eyes locking onto the corridor in front of him.

He saw wet footprints in the corridor ahead. The footprints appeared at the end of the hallway and extended all the way to the house where the young couple lived.

Ethan's heart began to race wildly.

Looking at the wet footprints, Ethan knew they weren't his.

The footprints left by his wet feet earlier had already dried, but these footprints in front of him were clearly fresh—left not long ago, or else they, too, would have dried.

"Could there be someone else here besides me? Did they walk over from the stairs and enter the couple’s house? But the stairs outside are flooded. How did this person get here?"

Ethan’s eyes fell on the slightly ajar door. He wanted to rush in and see what was going on, but a faint fear stirred deep in his heart, leaving him with the uneasy feeling that something wasn’t right.

He decided not to act impulsively. He quickly went back home, dropped the quilt and clothes he was holding, and picked up the kitchen knife and hammer from the coffee table.

Armed with the knife and hammer, Ethan felt a bit more secure. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he walked out again, determined to see what was going on.

"It would be great if there were other survivors," Ethan thought silently.

Facing the unknown alone, not only loneliness but also the constant fear of what he didn’t know weighed heavily on him, making him feel deeply oppressed.

He was terrified that if things continued like this, it wouldn't be long before he broke down. He desperately wanted to see other living beings—human or animal, it didn’t matter. Even a dog would do.

Soon, Ethan reached the door, looking at the cracked open security door and the wet footprints in front of it.

Getting closer, Ethan noticed there were a lot of water stains on both sides of the footprints.

Clearly, the person who had left these footprints wasn’t just someone with wet shoes; they were soaked from head to toe. As they walked, they left a trail of wet footprints along with water dripping from their body, leaving stains all over the ground.

But as time passed, these traces of water were slowly evaporating. Ethan noticed it now, standing so close.

Clutching the hammer and kitchen knife tightly, Ethan hesitated to immediately push the door open. He swallowed, then finally called out, “Is anyone there?”

Except for his voice, there was only dead silence in the corridor and inside the house.

Ethan paused for a few seconds, then called out again, straining to hear any noise inside.

Suddenly, he heard something—a noise like a chair being moved. In such an empty and quiet space, the sound was amplified, making it obvious. It sounded as though someone inside had accidentally knocked into a chair while turning around.

"Is there really someone in there? But why aren’t they answering me?"

Finally, Ethan could no longer resist. He raised the hammer in his right hand and moved to push the ajar door open.