In practical terms, the establishment of an interim government didn’t change much—it was still the same group of people dividing up work and cooperating to maintain everyone’s daily lives.
But psychologically, many who had felt empty and lost now had something to hold on to.
Fighting their way out of the Science and Technology New District and reclaiming living space for humanity was now the consensus.
But you had to take it one step at a time, one bite at a time.
After the general assembly, a smaller meeting was held inside the clubhouse. In addition to the core members, many key figures were also present.
Zhao Yi, Gao Yuxuan, and even Little Huang were there.
Zhao Yi and Gao Yuxuan both looked at Song Jingshuo.
The three of them had inexplicably grown close.
Song Jingshuo understood and spoke first.
At this point, they couldn’t just consider personal relationships—some things had to be made clear.
“Jiang Cheng,” Song Jingshuo asked, “you said there were no survivors in the Development Zone government building. Are you a hundred percent certain?”
Everyone stared at Jiang Cheng.
Jiang Cheng faced them calmly: “Yes. One hundred percent. Mo Li wouldn’t miss a single survivor. He was the one who found the survivors at Renxin Hospital back then. I trust Mo Li’s ability completely.”
Song Jingshuo voiced what everyone was thinking: “That doesn’t make sense.”
“Not only does it not make sense—it’s also unscientific,” Jiang Cheng added. “I think so too.”
Everyone pressed their lips together.
Jiang Cheng paced back and forth a few times with her arms crossed, as if weighing her options.
Finally, she stopped. “I actually didn’t want to bring this up so soon. I told Jingshuo before—I have a theory, but no evidence, so it wasn’t good to say it too early.”
Song Jingshuo remembered: “Yes, you did mention that. Can you say it now?”
Jiang Cheng nodded and swept her gaze across everyone.
“I suspect that our government was specifically and deliberately eliminated.”
“I suspect that the zombie virus was not a natural outbreak—but a targeted terrorist attack.”
They were in the clubhouse lobby. The air was dead silent—you could hear a pin drop.
Jiang Cheng said: “At first, it was just a suspicion. But if even one or two senior officials of the government had survived, they would have their channels, their ways to contact higher-level officials, various departments, and the military to ask for help. Even if only a small part of the military remained, they’d still be stronger than ordinary civilians if they banded together.”
“Even if only one senior official was left, their status alone would draw many people to rush forward and form a force, regardless of the danger. We’ve all been through that before. Back when we didn’t have armor, didn’t we still fight our way out of the neighborhood?”
“Even if they couldn’t fully take over the TV station building, if they could just find a way to contact surviving employees inside and issue at least one announcement to tell the people that someone was still there—that even one person in the government was still alive—it would keep hope alive in people’s hearts. Isn’t that right?”
“But there’s nothing.”
“Today is already September 2nd! Day five!”
“Last night, I sent Mo Li to the Development Zone government building.”
“Right now, I only have this one confirmed sample—an isolated sample. It can’t serve as complete evidence, but it certainly reinforces my suspicion.”
“There’s an easy way to disprove my judgment: we go into the city ourselves and confirm whether anyone from the government is still alive.”
“As long as even one mid-to-high-level official is alive, it would overturn my theory.”
“And if that were the case—how wonderful that would be.”
Everyone’s expressions were grim.
Middle-aged men loved discussing national affairs and political situations.
And those in finance couldn’t separate politics from economics.
Everyone had at least some level of political awareness.
Even someone like Zhao Yi, who was deep into anime and manga, rubbed his face hard: “Jiang Cheng, do you realize what you’re saying?”
“Yes.”
Jiang Cheng said: “I’m saying that I believe the zombie virus is a terrorist act—launched by an external force—involving mass slaughter of civilians and targeted elimination of high-level officials.”
“Or… it’s just me overthinking.”
Everyone skipped right past the second sentence.
Zhao Yi said: “If you’re right, then what we’re facing—”
Was a nation-level existential war.
Zhao Yi could fully grasp the situation Jiang Cheng had described.
Because he was an anime fan. Domestic animation was gradually catching up, but for veterans like him and Gao Yuxuan, what they mainly watched came from a small country to the east.
Because that country was small, their manga and anime often featured “nation-level” apocalyptic events.
But Zhao Yi lived in reality—in a major country, a millennia-old nation, an economically booming and thriving powerhouse.
Now, to hear “nation-level annihilation”—to Zhao Yi, it felt straight out of an anime.
And because it felt like anime, it lacked a sense of reality.
But… but…
Zhao Yi remembered the sight of that giant black cat standing beside the girl.
It had already felt like anime for a long time, hadn’t it?
Perhaps destiny had always been there.
He gazed at Jiang Cheng.
The chosen heroine of fate.
It suddenly made perfect sense that she would be the one to unveil all of this.
Jiang Cheng wasn’t exactly lying—there was no deception in her speculation.
But she had concealed the fact of her transmigration.
What was tied to “transmigration” was that the “external force” she spoke of wasn’t what everyone assumed—a “foreign country.”
The so-called foreign countries might have the capability to deploy some kind of virus.
But both outbreaks had turned the sky an ominous purple, like a thunderstorm. Jiang Cheng had always believed that was no coincidence.
Based on her understanding of this world, no country currently possessed the technological power to manipulate the skies on such a large scale.
But if there was a force that could cast a soul into an entirely unfamiliar world and lock its memories—
And the familiar “storage space” that came with her—
All of it convinced her that somewhere out there, some entity must exist. It was the mastermind behind her transmigration and amnesia, and the true culprit behind the mass death of ordinary people.
Jiang Cheng swept her gaze across everyone, pulled something from her pants pocket, unfolded it, unfolded it again, and again.
It was a map, folded several times over.
She spread it out on the small round table at the reception desk: “Let’s set that aside for now. Let’s get grounded.”
This was a map of S City. The ring roads circled outward—the Science and Technology New District was outside the North Fifth Ring Road.
Inside the First Ring was the ancient city district, with many protected historical buildings.
Inside the Second Ring was the old city district.
The Third and Fourth Rings were the main urban areas.
Outside the Fifth Ring were, on one side, clusters of relocated factories, and on the other, clusters of relocated residential communities.
Jiang Cheng’s finger tapped inside the Second Ring: “The municipal government is here.”
Then she dragged her finger a long way, all the way out past the Fifth Ring: “And we are here.”
She drew another circle: “This is the entire Science and Technology New District. Let’s put that other matter aside for now. Even if I’m right, for the time being we can only do what’s in front of us. Let’s focus on the Science and Technology New District first.”
The Science and Technology New District was divided into residential areas and industrial parks.
Zhao Yi and Gao Yuxuan’s companies were both in the industrial park.
The industrial park was separated by a river called the Bailiang River. The Development Zone government building was right next to this river.
Little Huang’s mom’s office had a river view.
The residential area was further divided into East and West districts.
The youth apartment was in the East District, which was developed first. The West District was developed later, with many pre-sale housing projects. Many buildings had been left half-finished due to the zombie outbreak.
In the month before, reportedly due to a shortage of workers, several pre-sale projects had been unable to resume construction.
The buyers hadn’t made a fuss either, because many of them were no longer around.
Some units had been delivered but had low occupancy rates.
Further west, there was also planned Phase III land, still vacant and being held.
Now, the population of the Science and Technology New District was mainly concentrated here.
Jiang Cheng’s hand covered the entire Science and Technology New District: “Since we’ve declared ourselves the government of the Science and Technology New District, the first thing we must do is reclaim the entire living space of the district.”
“Step one: first, the residential areas—including all neighborhoods with people living in them.”
“Including the Development Zone government building, that private school, two private kindergartens, Renxin Hospital, and Tianfu Shopping Center.”
“Did I miss anything?”
When humans band together as a collective with a shared goal and a concrete plan of action, the power they can unleash is astonishing.
Take Cui Haiyang and Uncle Eighty, for example. Jiang Cheng’s directive was: armor for every person, weapons for every person.
By “every person,” she meant everyone—including the elderly and children staying behind.
That way, even if the front-line teams suffered losses, the elderly and children could defend themselves and even step in as replacements.
Jiang Cheng asked: “Can you do it?”
Uncle Eighty pounded his chest in assurance: “We can!”
Cui Haiyang, now also feeling a sense of destiny or mission, was practically ready to sign a military pledge: “Mission absolutely accomplished.”
Materials for metal-type superpower users were especially easy to find. Cui Haiyang and his team requisitioned all the guardrails from the streets and roads outside the neighborhood and set up shop inside the community to make armor and weapons, working with great fervor.
Gao Yuxuan and Guo Jun went to specially order two full suits of pure metal armor.
They required full-body coverage, including the eyes and hands.
Cui Haiyang: “Like medieval knights?”
Gao Yuxuan: “Pretty much. Make sure they’re sturdy enough—don’t let any zombie break through and scoop me out.”
Cui Haiyang: “What are you two planning to do? Tell me clearly so I can adjust accordingly.”
It turned out that today, when Zhao Yi had grabbed Zhang Lesi’s hand and they’d both gotten stuck on Gao Yuxuan, shaking together, it had given Gao Yuxuan an idea.
He said to Guo Jun: “We really don’t need to go for one-hit kills.”
One-hit kills required high accuracy and output strength. Taking them out one by one—too many kills drained superpower energy quickly and was exhausting.
The principle behind electricity-type users killing zombies was the same as fire-type and physical attacks.
We now knew that zombies were half-dead things—walking corpses. But their brains still had activity.
Electricity, fire, and physical strikes all worked by completely destroying the brain or killing its activity.
Gao Yuxuan thought: “Since its activity can be neutralized by electric shock, that means it reacts to electricity the way a living body would.”
“Our electricity is different from fire. When you touch a live wire, you don’t necessarily die immediately—you might start dancing instead.”
“The amount of electricity needed to make a zombie dance is far less than what’s needed to kill it.”
“And it should conduct electricity just like a human body, right?”
“So the two of us want to walk into a horde of zombies and see the effect.”
“So you get it, Old Cui—don’t cut corners. If you cut corners, I’m dead. Got it?”
“Make ours sturdy. Reinforce it! Yeah, reinforce it again! A few more times!”
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