029 Let's start with a simple task.

“How much longer do I have to live?”

This was Wang Chen’s first question upon regaining consciousness. Even though he had volunteered for a fatal experiment, people change; as time passes and his state of mind stabilizes, his instinct for survival inevitably resurfaces.

Sadly, there are some things that cannot be undone.

“Don’t worry, your physical exam results are all normal. And there’s good news—you’re now completely immune to the zombie pathogen. Of course, the bad news is that the pathogen in your body remains active, and we still haven’t found a way to clear it.” Encased fully in her protective suit, Ru Xi didn’t give Wang Chen a precise answer to his question. In truth, with this type of infection, she herself had no idea how long he could survive.

What was he now? Half-human, half-zombie? Wang Chen didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Ru Xi watched Wang Chen’s slightly contorted expression in silence. All she could do was follow orders until a new vaccine was developed—she was to ensure Wang Chen and Liu Shuhuan became proficient with the military’s primary weapons and helicopter insertion techniques as quickly as possible. As for the reason, Ru Xi could guess without needing to wring Tu Hongye’s neck.

The drug had kept them unconscious for quite a while, but Wang Chen’s constitution was no longer that of an ordinary college student. After some light exercise and a nutritious meal, his strength was nearly restored. Liu Shuhuan, whose physical condition was even better, recovered even faster.

They walked through the long corridor to a shooting range cleared specifically for them. Staring at the array of light and heavy weapons, Wang Chen’s eyes widened, and Liu Shuhuan's face was equally shocked.

“In the coming days, you two must quickly familiarize yourselves with weapons for close combat. If time allows, you’ll need to master all—”

“I refuse.”

Before Ru Xi could finish, Liu Shuhuan raised both hands in firm protest. “Even if you shoot me now, I won’t do it.”

“Say that again?” Ru Xi took only half a step forward as she spoke. Wang Chen swore, even without seeing Ru Xi's expression behind her protective helmet, he felt a genuine aura of menace.

Or perhaps, the tension in Ru Xi’s body and the slight arch of her back instantly transformed her from a composed woman into a mother leopard ready to pounce.

Liu Shuhuan swallowed hard, trying to appear indifferent as he waved his hand. “You can make me repeat it all you want—I won’t do it! Yes, I’m a felon, and I escaped from Harbin. Joining the experiment got me off death row, but don’t think I’m a fool! Laying out all these guns for a felon like me, you’re going to force me to die next! No matter what you have planned, I’m not doing it!”

Regaining some confidence, Liu Shuhuan pointed at Wang Chen beside him. “You can use that patriotic nonsense to fool him—a dumb student—but don’t try it on me! I joined the experiment to live longer, not to throw my life away!”

Ru Xi actually lost her earlier intensity upon hearing Liu Shuhuan’s words. She sighed, walked to the table, picked up a pistol, checked the magazine, loaded it a bit awkwardly, then calmly said, “You’re right. With your record, executing you would be within the law. If you joined the experiment to live longer, shouldn’t you consider the consequences of disobeying orders? Aren’t you the fool?”

With that, Ru Xi loaded the gun, pointed it at Liu Shuhuan. “Since you’re useless to me, why shouldn’t I just shoot you?”

“You... you wouldn’t dare... You can’t just kill someone! You don’t have the authority! You still need me for the vaccine experiment! Yes, the vaccine experiment!”

Ru Xi chuckled.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Watching Liu Shuhuan shriek and collapse, curling up with a spreading stain at his crotch, Wang Chen was stunned.

Ru Xi put down the pistol as if she’d just swatted a mosquito. As she walked past Wang Chen, she patted his shoulder. “Practice rounds, won’t kill you. Your instructor will arrive soon. One piece of advice: if I were you, I wouldn’t turn my back on someone like him.”

Wang Chen couldn’t respond, silently watching Ru Xi leave. He turned to Liu Shuhuan, still limp on the floor, hesitated but decided it was better to help, and filled a glass of water at the dispenser.

Liu Shuhuan struggled to sit up, took the glass from Wang Chen, his hands still trembling uncontrollably, so he had to hold the cup with both hands, drinking deeply.

“If you want to laugh, just do it. My whole life is a joke anyway.” Liu Shuhuan drained the water, crushed the cup like a paper ball, and tossed it aside, defeated.

Wang Chen shook his head. “If someone pointed a gun at me, I might not even do as well as you.”

Having skirted death, shaken to the core, Liu Shuhuan abandoned his former silence, speaking rapidly. “Don’t be fooled by my build—I’m not that brave. Grew up without parents, lived with my grandpa and got bullied a lot. After he died, I drifted in society, worked for a big brother collecting loan shark debts. Got sentenced because someone jumped off a building after being pressured—damn, he landed on a government official. My big brother put lots of loans in my name, so I ended up with fifteen years. He pushed me to appeal, saying he knew someone, but at the second trial, turned into death with reprieve. That’s when I realized a few other charges got pinned on me too...”

Wang Chen had no interest in Liu Shuhuan’s old grievances and interrupted, “Brother Liu, you’ve been around, why react so strongly to us learning to use guns?”

“Hmph! It’s like this—us street punks mostly wave knives to scare people, but one day the boss hands you a gun? That’s not a small matter. Letting regular folks like us learn to shoot, it’s not for fighting the military—it must be for fighting zombies. But the news says fighting zombies has already made progress. If they still want us to learn this, it’s not for the front lines. Probably some infiltrate-behind-enemy-lines stuff. You think amateurs like us can survive?”

---

“Honestly, I don’t think it’s that serious... If they really wanted to go back to Harbin, wouldn’t sending special forces be better than us? Maybe they’re just having us learn this to pass the time...”

“Why not just give us a computer to play games? Passing time with guns? Those soldiers must have shit for brains.”

You know what they say about trouble coming from loose lips? Just as Liu Shuhuan finished his comment about soldiers’ brains, the instructor walked in. Even though the instructor’s face was hidden by protective gear, the mountain-like stance alone made Wang Chen think Liu Shuhuan was in for a rough time.

Liu Shuhuan’s deduction was mostly correct, but he lacked information and looked at things from a civilian perspective, so his conclusions weren’t quite accurate.

Ru Xi was different. After leaving the sterile zone, her first act was not to shower in her dorm but to lean over the sink and vomit, nearly emptying her lunch.

Once she was sure she had nothing left to puke, she naturally extended her right hand. A clean tissue was handed to her just in time. Ru Xi rinsed her mouth, wiped her face, and looked up at those heterochromatic eyes, pale-faced. “Why?”

“Because you’re responsible for their physical training. A female instructor helps stabilize the subjects psychologically...”

“No, you know what I’m really asking.”

“To guard against future risks.” Tu Hongye gently stroked Ru Xi’s hair, his gaze tinged with regret. “Sending people to die, watching acquaintances fall—you must cross this psychological threshold. Better sooner than later.”

“Do you want me to become a cold, heartless person?”

“No, I just hope you won’t be crushed by the coming brutality. Besides, they’re only temporary agents—there may not be any mortal danger.”

Ru Xi stared at Tu Hongye, at the eyes that bewitched her, the face that drove her mad, the body that sent her wild night after night. Only after a long pause did she softly say, “I know you’re headed to the front tomorrow. My parents will arrive this afternoon—let’s have dinner together tonight.”

“Alright.”

Ru Xi turned to leave, then paused, speaking quietly, “Tu Hongye, I trust you. I’ve given you everything. I don’t regret it. Just don’t let me regret it.”

The ice queen then swayed away.

Watching Ru Xi disappear at the end of the corridor, Tu Hongye smiled and murmured, “Don’t worry. I won’t give you the chance.”

********

“Reporting! Northeast Military District Special Operations Battalion—my unit is here to hand over the defense zone!” Captain Sun stood tall, saluting sharply.

Zhang Fu glanced from afar at the ongoing handover ceremony, the faceless, dark-skinned battalion commander, and the neatly lined coffins draped in national flags. He couldn’t help but sigh. The special operations battalion had lost over two-thirds to the outbreak—staying in the buffer zone was out of the question. Captain Sun must be feeling awful right now.

Clearing his mind, Zhang Fu turned to the three people he had called over. “Have you made up your minds?”

Standing opposite were Yang Xiaohua, Ma Tian, and Fang Qiang. The three exchanged glances, and Fang Qiang spoke first, hesitantly. “Director Zhang, you asked if we’re interested in joining the security department, but you haven’t given details. How are we supposed to decide?”

“No choice. Except for Yang Xiaohua, who has some security clearance, you two are civilians. I can’t reveal details before you join. But I can promise you—it’s a state post, high pay, early retirement.”

“Heh, at my age, getting a government job is a blessing. Of course I’m willing. But, Director Zhang, what exactly are you looking for in us?”

“Fang Qiang, from Yimianpo, Heilongjiang. Thirty-six, divorced, no children, parents deceased. Skilled at driving all kinds of vehicles, including heavy machinery and helicopters. To put it simply, I need your driving skills and helicopter experience. As for Ma Tian, from Yingkou, Shandong...”

“Hey, Director Zhang—just call Fang ‘brother,’ don’t mention me.” Ma Tian interrupted with a grin.

“Alright, alright, straight to the point: after the special ops battalion leaves, the incoming troops are ordinary infantry. They may have some experience with zombies, but they’re no help for what I need next. Unlike the special ops, I can’t fully trust their political reliability. But your actions have impressed me, especially Xiaohua’s stand at the rescue center for civilians—just what I need. Don’t think the secret department does shady or immoral things. We need trustworthy colleagues with a conscience.”

With this subtle praise, the three looked at each other. Fang Qiang coughed and continued, “Then, I have one request.”

“Go ahead.”

---

“Have those two young lovebirds call me Brother Qiang or Big Qiang—no ‘uncle.’ I’m still single, hoping to settle down one day. ‘Uncle’ just won’t do...”

“Fine, fine, I got it.” Zhang Fu thought, if not for your driving skills, he’d rather not hire you. He pulled out his phone, opened a document, and handed it to Fang Qiang. “This is your appointment letter. If you agree, press your thumb on the red area at the bottom—it’ll record your fingerprint.”

With someone taking the lead, the others followed. Yang Xiaohua and Ma Tian pressed their thumbprints, Zhang Fu pocketed his phone, and led the three to a prefabricated room near the lumber yard. Four men were already seated inside, each radiating a formidable presence. When Zhang Fu entered, the burly leader quickly stood with his three companions, nodding, “Boss, you’re here.”

“Take a seat. Meet your new colleagues: Yang Xiaohua handles logistics, satellites, communications; Fang Qiang drives vehicles and helicopters; Ma Tian handles weapons support. These four are security department agents.”

“Boss, we’ve never doubted your decisions...”

“Enough, I know what you’re about to say. I’ll explain later. Now that we’re all here, I’ll be blunt. In the near future, the buffer zone will be expanded to Shanhaiguan and subdivided into regions. At the southernmost point, a ten-meter-high isolation wall will be built along the mountains. The buffer zone will use a focused defense strategy, with checkpoints and garrisons on key routes. Our mission is to locate, recover, and destroy special equipment or important information, prevent enemy sabotage, mainly between Tonghua and Dandong, possibly elsewhere, and sometimes in cooperation with other security teams. Why recruit veterans and police? Simple—security is short-handed. We’re dealing with both the living and the dead! The battlefield is different now. We need people to guard vehicles, monitor satellite images, and watch for zombie infiltration. None of us want to find zombies under our armored vehicles or helicopters damaged when we’re supposed to evacuate, right?”

As his subordinates nodded, Zhang Fu continued, “One more thing—if something goes wrong, backup is unlikely. Help from garrison troops depends on how close we are to their posts. If we’re too far, we might all die before they arrive. So, one more trustworthy colleague means better chances of success—and survival. Any questions? No? Good. Here’s what we need to do first.”

The mission sounded simple: at a radio monitoring and radar base about ten kilometers from the China-North Korea border, recent satellite imagery showed evidence of large transport vehicles. The base was abandoned, and there was suspicion of foreign military theft of classified equipment and information. Zhang Fu’s security team was sent to investigate, and to collapse the main and secondary entrances with explosives to prevent theft.

The plan was to depart by helicopter at dawn, so there was plenty of prep time. Fang Qiang had been out of the army nearly ten years, but the aircraft was still the familiar Z-8, so he quickly reacquainted himself and assured everyone he’d be ready for a midnight takeoff. Meanwhile, Ma Tian’s phone rang just after the meeting.

“Hey, Mom, don’t worry. Yes, I’ve transferred to the security department. Dad knows? Oh, he’s furious about my transfer? I expected that. Mom, you know I never wanted to be a police officer anyway. I know I shouldn’t upset Dad, but you worry too... Right, Mom, the security department isn’t nearly as dangerous, really. Think about it, Mom, I’ve always been at odds with Dad, and now I had the chance to transfer—I jumped at it. I’m just doing clerical work, didn’t expect that, huh? If Dad finds out, he’ll be even angrier. What? Don’t worry, I swear I’m not lying, no need to. It’s real—clerical work, compiling data. Okay, that’s it, new colleagues are dragging me to dinner. Oh, can’t tell you where—classified. Okay, Mom, that’s all, I’ll hang up now.”

Fang Qiang just passed Ma Tian, but instead of teasing him for lying, he sympathetically patted Ma Tian’s back. “Reporting good news, not bad. Didn’t expect you to be so mature.”

Ma Tian managed a bitter smile. “Too much credit.” He turned to see Yang Xiaohua behind him. “Want to eat together?”

Yang Xiaohua rolled her eyes, gestured toward the four agents nearby, and whispered, “You’re not so mature after all. Those four are ‘senior colleagues.’ We should go greet them, mingle a bit—shouldn’t wait for them to come to us.”

“You’re sharp, girl.” Fang Qiang praised, already moving. He walked over to Zhang Fu, smiling. “Director Zhang, meeting’s over. Maybe introduce us to our new colleagues?”

“Not yet. I can only tell you their codenames. The rest is off-limits for now. We have a rule: first mission, then introductions based on performance. If the vets approve, they’ll tell you their real identities. It’s not meant to make things difficult.”

“Boss is right. You can call me Old Dog. These are Lynx, Quickhand, and Gale. Codename tradition is old—let me explain. Beginners get nervous on their first mission and might accidentally shout a teammate’s real name. If the enemy hears it, it could compromise us. So, this unwritten rule exists.”

“Understood, understood.” Fang Qiang was as smooth as an egg after years in society. Dinner was lively, and under Zhang Fu and Fang Qiang’s guidance, everyone quickly became acquainted. Real names remained unknown, but codenames were familiar.

At dawn, all preparations complete, the world still asleep, six people boarded the Z-8 piloted by Fang Qiang. Under Yang Xiaohua’s hoarse but steady real-time monitoring, they took off toward the monitoring base.

Flying from deep night to clear morning, the helicopter landed steadily on a dew-drenched, verdant hillside. The terrain was etched in everyone’s mind. Even before the helicopter stopped, Zhang Fu led four others leaping out, sprinting toward the shaded slope.

There was no mountain path; they would cross the woods directly to the maintenance tunnel entrance, access the base buried within the mountain. Watching the five disappear into the trees, Ma Tian and Fang Qiang began setting up remotely detonated anti-personnel mines around the helicopter, as required for defense against sudden zombie attacks. The mines were painted bright red as a precaution against friendly fire.

Ten minutes later, they had placed over twenty mines, when Zhang Fu’s voice came over their earpieces: “We’ve reached the maintenance entrance. Explosives set. Preparing to enter the base. Radio signal may cut out at any moment—stay alert.”

There was no choice. The monitoring base was deep inside the mountain; without connecting to the internal communications, their portable radios couldn’t transmit reliably. Luckily, the base was small. Zhang Fu's team just needed to confirm the equipment, exit at the main outlet near the railway, install directional charges, and remote-detonate after takeoff—mission complete.

Back at the helicopter, neither was foolish enough to sit inside. They found a dense thicket nearby with a clear view of the hillside and woods, staying concealed. Satellite images had shown evidence of large vehicles; if someone had an ambush set, dying would be a waste.

Ma Tian wiped sweat from his brow, swatted a persistent black mosquito, and grew a bit irritable. Near summer’s end, the sunlight in the hills was still fierce. As per epidemic protocol, everyone wore gas masks and lightweight protective suits, which were breezy enough, but there was no way the gas masks weren’t stifling.

Wiping his neck again, Ma Tian nudged Fang Qiang and rumbled, “Hey, Brother Fang, didn’t expect you to be so skilled with the controls. I was worried before we took off. By the way, since you can fly helicopters, how’d you end up in logistics?”

“You said it yourself—we’re flying a helicopter. When I left the military, there wasn’t a single place hiring helicopter pilots. Look now, it’s still rare. In China, it’s all military. Rich people buy planes, but fixed-wing, not helicopters. No way to make a living flying these. What are you staring at?”

“Brother Fang, do you hear something?” Ma Tian gripped his shotgun, uneasy.