HLM – Chapter 164 Rescuing a Priestess

The first media team to arrive in the small town was from New Zealand National News. Several reporters carried cameras and microphones, trudging in on foot. They began filming the disaster scene and broadcasting the devastation to the outside world.

These same reporters also wanted to interview Wang Bo, but he clearly wasn’t in the mood. He directly refused, saying, “Tell them I don’t have time for interviews right now. I have no idea how many people are still trapped under this damned rubble!”

The man speaking with him was clearly impressed by Wang Bo’s principles and nodded vigorously. “Wang, go and continue the rescue. Help those who are in desperate need!”

The Wanderer Town was almost completely flattened. Only a few earthquake-resistant wooden buildings on the outskirts were still barely standing. The earthquake had struck with terrifying suddenness, and most people inside buildings were buried under the collapse. The urgency of the rescue was beyond question.

Wang Bo and Zhuang Ding moved tirelessly through the debris. Zhuang Ding’s ears kept twitching and his nose sniffed constantly. At first, Wang Bo thought the dog was using its sense of smell to find survivors, but he later realized that Zhuang Ding was relying mainly on his hearing.

Survivors trapped under the rubble would cry out for help, as long as they weren’t unconscious. However, due to injuries, most voices were weak, and with debris muffling the sound, it was difficult for human ears to detect them.

Zhuang Ding’s hearing was incredibly sharp. He could pick up sounds that human ears couldn’t detect—sometimes even the heavy breathing of unconscious victims. When focused, he could even catch those faint cues.

Of course, his highly sensitive nose also played a role. He could detect the scent of blood under the ruins and guide rescuers where to dig.

But this required extreme concentration and was physically draining. On top of that, Zhuang Ding had been injured during an aftershock. After more than an hour of intense searching, he was already showing signs of exhaustion.

Wang Bo felt heartbroken for him, but they couldn’t stop now—lives were on the line.

The rescuers and survivors understood this. They prioritized bringing Zhuang Ding clean water, food, and milk. Whenever the man and the dog took a break, others quickly helped Zhuang Ding eat and drink to replenish his strength.

During one of these breaks, a loud cheer erupted from a nearby rescue site. As Wang Bo changed Zhuang Ding’s bandages, he asked a bystander, “What’s happening?”

The man ran over to check, then rushed back cheerfully and shouted, “It’s Priestess Gregory! She’s been rescued! Praise the great god Māori, praise the protection of Hawaiki! The priestess only has broken legs—her life is not in danger!”

The Māori people believed in polytheism and ancestral spirits, and their communities often had priests and shamans. The rescued elder priestess named Gregory held a high position in Wanderer Town, and her survival gave everyone a massive morale boost.

Shortly afterward, a large man carrying the priestess on his back approached Wang Bo and Zhuang Ding. Out of respect, Wang Bo stood to greet them. The priestess looked to be in her seventies, with silver hair and a face full of tattoos. It was hard to tell if she was male or female.

While observing her, Wang Bo also glanced at the man carrying her. He found the man oddly familiar, though the guy kept his face down, making it hard to recognize him.

The priestess’s legs were shattered, and her body was wrapped in numerous bandages—her condition looked serious. As she approached, she reached out with trembling hands and gently touched the foreheads of Wang Bo and Zhuang Ding. Her clouded eyes were full of gratitude, and she spoke solemnly in Māori, though the meaning wasn’t clear.

Zhuang Ding, irritated, tried to shake off the old lady’s hand, but Wang Bo, understanding it was likely a cultural ritual, signaled him to be patient.

The priestess’s health was poor. Between old age and blood loss, she fell into semi-consciousness after speaking a few words. A doctor quickly took her to a medical tent.

The chubby Māori tycoon, James, followed beside her. After the priestess was taken away, he saw the puzzled look on Wang Bo’s face and quickly explained, “Priestess Gregory was expressing Māori’s gratitude. You saved his people—you will receive his protection and blessing!”

Wang Bo gave a tired smile. “Let’s hope he protects those who haven’t been rescued yet. Come on, Zhuang Ding, back to work.”

The rescue had started at noon, and by evening, it began to drizzle under a gloomy sky.

The New Zealand government’s disaster response hadn’t been particularly swift. It was only now that the main rescue forces finally arrived. In contrast, the so-called authoritarian Chinese government was often better at rapidly deploying troops to disaster zones.

But with the arrival of the large-scale rescue teams, things finally began falling into place. The New Zealand Prime Minister and several members of Parliament arrived via private plane. The first step was to establish an earthquake rescue command center and begin a full-scale search and rescue operation.

Alongside the Prime Minister came more than a dozen rescue helicopters. Judging by the markings, they belonged to the New Zealand Army and Navy—clearly, the military had joined the efforts.

Wang Bo had expected the leadership to start with press interviews and formal condolences, but that didn’t happen. Once the command center was up, they immediately set up task groups: frontline rescue, medical assistance, security and stabilization, media communications, logistics support, and data statistics.

The command center quickly consolidated medical resources and used helicopters to fly in large numbers of trauma surgeons. These doctors treated the rescued survivors promptly, and the medical situation improved dramatically.

Wang Bo and Zhuang Ding were assigned to the frontline rescue team. Sheriff Smith and over a dozen of his officers followed them, greatly admiring Zhuang Ding’s skills.

By now, Zhuang Ding had become a renowned figure at the rescue site. So much so that even newly arrived search dogs were warmly welcomed by survivors—simply because they followed in Zhuang Ding’s paw prints.

Zhuang Ding’s injured shoulder and head were disinfected and re-bandaged. Soldiers even gave him little shoes to wear. That was when Wang Bo noticed that the dog’s paw pads had been torn by wires and sharp rubble. His heart ached terribly.

But the mastiff was resilient. As long as Wang Bo was by his side, he remained cheerful and enthusiastic, always pushing forward.

As night fell, someone brought them hot soup. With the official rescue teams taking over, Wang Bo and Zhuang Ding could finally rest.

Dozens of large tents had been set up around the open areas. Fortunately, the town was on flat land—otherwise, accommodating the survivors would’ve been far more difficult.

Post-disaster management and data teams were also formed. They began recording details about housing damage, survivor counts, and infrastructure destruction.

Helicopters were used to lift away vehicles blocking roads. Bulldozers cleared the collapsed ruins. Ambulances could now pass freely, and volunteer rescuers like Wang Bo were allowed to leave.