Jiang Cheng hired five people on the spot.
One uncle, two aunties, and the two housewife sisters—she took all of them.
The uncle had a chef’s certificate. The two aunties were the neatest and cleanest-looking among the candidates.
She kept both sisters because they were the youngest—the childless one looked under forty, and the one who’d lost her child seemed just over forty. They were the most physically capable among the applicants.
If she hired only elderly people, Jiang Cheng worried they wouldn’t have the stamina. So she kept a couple of younger ones.
She was about to tell Zhou Wang, but when she turned to find him, he was already jogging over with his phone in hand. “Jiang Cheng!”
“Someone’s calling for help from Gaoxin Middle School!”
“What do we do?”
The floor leaders had been lounging around—some sitting, some leaning, one playing with a fireball, another with a water ball.
Hearing that, they all crowded around. “More work?”
More.
Their eyes glinted with excitement.
Interesting. Humanity was no longer content to cower behind fences and scrape by.
Last night, everyone had waited in vain for a government announcement—no news of an emergency temporary government being formed.
Strangely, no one felt down, pessimistic, or dispirited this morning.
In fact, last time, even though the government had done its best, it was ultimately the people’s strength that had won the battle against the zombies.
Humanity now had confidence in itself. Fear of zombies had faded. They had rich combat experience. They could no longer tolerate zombies encroaching on their living space.
This time, there was no need to wait for the government to give the order.
Nor did they need Jiang Cheng to deliver any grand, stirring speeches to persuade them.
All six floor leaders were superpower users.
They were even more eager than ordinary people to kill zombies—it was a way to test and refine their combat techniques, and through battle, they could stimulate further growth in their abilities.
Jiang Cheng asked, “What’s the situation?”
Zhou Wang said, “It’s someone from our neighborhood. Her husband was on our interim committee before—his name is Wang Changhe. Do you remember him?”
Jiang Cheng said, “Tall guy, left shoulder higher than the right?”
Zhou Wang: “That’s him! The day before yesterday, our neighborhood organized a sweep. Their family had armor, so his wife put it on and came out. But in the middle of the fight, she took off—said she was going to find her kid. Her child goes to Gaoxin Middle School. She never came back.”
Basically, she’d fought her way through zombies, made it to the underground garage, got a car, and drove off to save her daughter.
“I thought she was dead. Turns out she’s still alive.”
“She called from a landline.”
“She said there are still over a hundred kids trapped at the school.”
Wang Changhe’s wife had lost her phone and couldn’t memorize phone numbers.
She and some other parents and a group of kids had fought and fled their way through. Today, they finally made it from the teaching building into the lab building—where all the teachers’ offices were.
There, they found a computer that could connect to the internet and logged onto the neighborhood’s owners’ forum.
Xiao Huang had been a bit too diligent—he had a bit of OCD about computers.
After the first zombie outbreak, he’d cleaned up the forum and removed all sticky posts. That had caused the thread containing Jixiang Jiayuan’s interim committee contact list to sink way down.
The girl scrolled through many pages before finally finding it.
Wang Changhe’s wife used the office landline to call Zhou Wang for help.
Zhou Wang really didn’t want to take on any more responsibility. But the word “children” hit him like a spell he couldn’t escape.
He still came to find Jiang Cheng.
Since everyone was so eager to go out and kill zombies and save people, Jiang Cheng was happy to see it.
She hadn’t come to this world to clock in at a job every day and endure her boss’s cringey advances.
She’d come to face challenges—or tests.
When the artificial concept of [Security Protocol] had first drifted into her mind, Jiang Cheng realized her transmigration couldn’t be a coincidence.
There had to be someone—or some organization—behind it.
But what was the purpose?
Jiang Cheng thought it over, but the only comparison that came to mind was those reality TV shows—contestants giving it their all to clear levels and win.
Could she be a “contestant” dropped into this world?
Gaoxin Middle School was about a 10- to 15-minute drive away, or roughly half an hour on foot.
Not too close, not too far—about the same distance as the development zone government office.
“How do we get there?” Jiang Cheng mused, cupping her chin.
Not only did they have to get there, they also had to come back.
And it wasn’t just them—there were all those people at the school too.
After a moment’s thought: “We still need vehicles.”
Youth Apartments was no stranger to rounding up cars.
They sprang into action right away.
Zhou Wang also started calling everyone in his neighborhood who could fight.
In less than ten minutes, everyone showed up in armor—even Old Eighties, wearing his homemade metal suit and carrying a crescent-shaped spade instead of the long bayonet he’d had before.
Because yesterday’s field test at Yujing Xiangyuan had proven that bayonets weren’t practical. Stabbing a hole in something only worked on living humans—it made them lose mobility or die.
On zombies, it was useless.
Zombies needed headshots or decapitation. A bayonet wasn’t good for chopping heads off.
So Old Eighties had reworked his weapon to match the new crescent spade design from Youth Apartments, and now it worked much better.
He planted his spade on the ground with a resonant voice: “When do we leave?”
The old man was formidable.
His presence sparked some new ideas in Jiang Cheng’s mind.
Nowadays, you had to factor superpowers into every problem and think with that lens.
For instance, if a task required someone to jump from the 20th floor, you’d have given up before—no one could do that.
But now, faced with that condition, you’d say: “Let Zhou Wang jump.”
And so the impossible became possible.
With superpowers backing you up, you could let your mind run wild and imagine anything.
Superpowers would make it happen.
Jiang Cheng outlined her rough idea to the metal-type users and asked, “Is this feasible?”
Cui Haiyang nodded immediately. “Yes! Yes! Very much yes!”
Other metal-types chimed in too. “We can do it! Great idea—why didn’t I think of that?”
Jiang Cheng said, “If we can…”
Everyone waited for her to finish. But she just smiled and changed the subject. “Alright, let’s see how Jingshuo’s doing.”
Song Jingshuo had gone to round up vehicles from the neighborhood.
There weren’t many private cars that had returned, but there were enough. Jixiang Jiayuan contributed a few as well.
They gathered fifteen suitable vehicles, each seating four or five people—about sixty or seventy in total.
While one group prepared the cars, another gathered the personnel.
In the midst of the bustle, Jiang Cheng noticed a few people standing at a distance with their arms crossed, watching. They didn’t seem to be coming over.
In the middle was Cao Jiacai, flanked by the two young security guards.
A few others appeared to be standing behind some shrubs—hard to make out.
An idea struck Jiang Cheng.
She looked around and spotted Xiao Fang, the young security guard.
Xiao Fang was only 19, but brave enough. On the first day of the outbreak, he’d dared to leave the security booth alone to rescue people.
And it was clear he respected Jiang Cheng. He always joined collective actions, often appeared in her field of vision, and they’d become familiar quickly.
“Xiao Fang,” Jiang Cheng called.
The young guy jogged over eagerly. “What’s up?”
Jiang Cheng said, “I need your help with something.”
She leaned in and whispered to him.
Over yonder, Cao Jiacai and his crew watched the busy, bustling scene—and he didn’t like what he saw.
“Busybody nonsense,” Cao Jiacai said. “We’ve got plenty of food and drink in the neighborhood. Why go out and stir up trouble? If they were looking for supplies, fine. But rescuing people? None of our damn business.”
Xiao Wang said, “We should still rescue people if we can.”
Xiao Wang had participated in the collective work yesterday, making metal armor and crescent spades alongside the other metal-type users.
He’d actually felt happy during that time.
It reminded him of when he was a kid, hammering iron pots with his father and grandfather.
Now, watching the bustling activity in the distance, he felt a pull to join them.
Cao Jiacai glared at him. “You’re just a spineless dog, begging to go work? We’re not lowlifes anymore! We’ve got superpowers now! Get your head straight!”
Xiao Wang hesitated. “But they have powers too. And they’re still college graduates.”
Cao Jiacai snapped, “College just rots their brains.”
He’d seen it with his own eyes.
These college-educated people would buy breakfast from a street vendor and then say “thank you” to the seller after paying.
They were giving the seller money—and then thanking them afterward?
Tell me that’s not stupid.
Just then, Xiao Fang came trotting over.
Another little fool—sticking close to the residents’ butts instead of his own people.
Cao Jiacai no longer considered Xiao Fang “one of us.” He squinted as Xiao Fang ran up and asked, “What?”
Xiao Fang said, “Miss Jiang wants me to ask—are you coming along for the operation?”
Cao Jiacai sneered. “I go if I feel like it, I don’t if I don’t.”
Xiao Fang scratched his head. “So are you going or not?”
Can’t understand plain speech. Cao Jiacai snapped, “I’m not going!”
Xiao Fang glanced around furtively and leaned in. “Miss Jiang said it’s fine if you don’t go—just don’t make a fuss about it.”
He said, “She said if you kick up a fuss, it’d look bad—like she can’t keep you in line. People would get upset. If you don’t go, others might hear and refuse to go too. Miss Jiang’s afraid everyone will follow your lead, and then she won’t be able to assign anyone.”
Those words hit Cao Jiacai just right.
“So she’s not stupid after all,” Cao Jiacai said. “Looks like everyone’s got a clear head.”
Who’s really the strongest? Who ought to be the leader?
Cao Jiacai’s itch grew unbearable—he lifted his foot, ready to stride over.
But a hand reached out from behind the shrubs and stopped him. “Where are you going?”
Cao Jiacai: “Didn’t we agree to find a big moment to—”
The man cut him off, shooting him a meaningful look and shaking his head.
Cao Jiacai glanced at Xiao Fang and said, “I’m not going. You tell her that. Don’t think she can boss me around.”
Xiao Fang peeked at the person behind the shrub, then ran back to Jiang Cheng.
After Xiao Fang left, Cao Jiacai asked the man, “Didn’t we agree to find a big stage to tear her down? I think now’s the time.”
Over there, things were buzzing. This was the perfect moment for him to step in, slam the table, and flip out: “Hey—Jiang Cheng! You’re a woman! You’re not even that strong! You’ve got no right to be the leader! Starting today, I’m in charge!”
Yes, that was exactly the fantasy playing in Cao Jiacai’s head.
The man said, “No rush.”
He said, “They’re going to get big vehicles. Those will be useful later. We need them too. Let them go get them first. Then, once they’re back, we make our move—pull Jiang Cheng down and make you the leader!”
Cao Jiacai heard this and sighed in admiration. “See? This is why college grads have good brains!”
Xiao Fang ran back and told Jiang Cheng, “He said he’s not going.”
Jiang Cheng: “Did you say everything I told you?”
“Yeah.” Xiao Fang lowered his voice. “He was about to come over—looking all aggressive. But someone next to him stopped him.”
“Who?”
“From Building 4. Used to follow Brother Song around a lot. What’s his name… Wang something-tian?”
Jiang Cheng squinted toward the shrubs. The man behind them had half-emerged—sure enough, a familiar face from Building 4.
Wang Haotian.
Why did he stop Cao Jiacai? She’d been trying to lure the snake out of its hole.
Cao Jiacai was bound to challenge her authority sooner or later, to seize her leadership.
His intentions were written all over his face—no attempt to hide them.
But he hadn’t made a move yet. If he didn’t throw the first punch, how could Jiang Cheng claim self-defense?
Jiang Cheng was never one to wait passively for others to act.
She’d wanted to accelerate the process, but Wang Haotian had blocked her.
“Forget it.” Jiang Cheng reached back and patted the little black cat on her shoulder.
[He didn’t take the bait. Then you’ll make your debut at the school.]
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