Everyone had their own assignments.
Although Xiao Huang said he could no longer sense any danger in the building, Cui Haiyang and Wu Jiancheng still led teams to search floor by floor.
Li Jiangbing and Su Yu took charge of looking after the survivors in the studio hall.
Among the more than 500 survivors, over a hundred were staff members.
“We were all working on the upper floors—dragged down here.”
Jiang Cheng gathered the staff together and asked: “Can you do a live broadcast?”
She added: “If not live, recorded is fine too.”
The staff member who had been answering their questions was named Yue Chao. He asked: “Who exactly are you people?”
Everyone was wearing armor—some the old white type, others gleaming metallic silver. Many of them carried identical weapons that looked like ancient arms.
If it weren’t for the zombie apocalypse, and he’d seen them in the TV station hallway, he would’ve thought they were about to go on stage for a performance.
They were orderly, but not quite military—ultimately lacking the organization and discipline of a real army.
“Are you militiamen?” he asked.
Over a month ago, S City had had many militiamen. Some of his colleagues, relatives, and friends had served as militiamen.
“No,” Jiang Cheng said. “We’re the provisional government of the Science and Technology Development New District.”
“We were established by the residents living in the Science and Technology New District.”
“Because—there are no survivors left in the city government or the district government.”
Yue Chao was dazed for a moment: “They’re all gone?”
The survivors in the studio all exhibited a sluggish, numb response—likely due to the physical starvation and psychological terror they’d endured over the past seven days.
You couldn’t really blame them. Without protection or weapons, humans facing zombies were nothing but meat.
If a zombie bit you even once, that was human-1, zombie+1.
They’d also looked around this studio hall—there wasn’t even a chair that could be used as a weapon. All the seating was fixed in multi-tiered rows.
Even a school would’ve been better—at least you could pick up a chair and defend yourself.
Jiang Cheng asked: “Can we broadcast from here?”
Yue Chao took a moment to process, then said: “Here? No, this won’t work. Director Guo tore all the cables.”
He pointed to the floor, and only then did everyone notice that many of the black cables on the ground were snapped, exposing the metal inside.
Zhao Yi pressed further: “Why did he do that?”
Yue Chao said: “I thought about that too. Maybe he was afraid we’d call for help? I don’t know. Anyway, he could understand human speech—he really had evolved.”
He raised his hand to gesture: “He was already this tall from the start—two heads taller than me. Looked like that guy over there—even taller, even more built.”
The “that guy” he pointed at was Li Jiangbing, notorious for his large frame.
“But actually,” Yue Chao said, “Director Guo was only 1.68 meters tall.”
For a man, that height was undeniably short.
“He was different from other zombies from the very beginning—unusually tall and strong.”
Zhao Yi wanted to ask more, but Jiang Cheng cut them off: “We can talk about that later.”
She told Yue Chao and the other staff: “I need to issue a public announcement to all citizens of the city. You’ll handle the operation. Live is fine, recorded is fine too. Like how the emergency response committee used to do it—like Mayor Zheng did.”
They understood: “Oh, okay. Can’t do it here, then. Let’s go downstairs—there’s a studio on the lower floor.”
They all went down to the second floor, and Yue Chao and the others found a studio: “This one will do.”
They went in—it was much smaller than the big studio hall upstairs, with no audience seating. But it looked very familiar.
Gao Yuxuan took a look around: “Isn’t this the room where they broadcast the news every day?”
Looking closer, it really was—no wonder it looked so familiar.
Back in their familiar workplace, touching familiar equipment, the staff seemed to gradually reclaim their souls. Their spirits and bodies finally synced up again, shedding their sluggishness.
They busied themselves for a while, and many screens lit up.
Jiang Cheng stood in front of the desk where the daily news was normally broadcast. Her image appeared on all those screens.
“Keep in mind—this is live,” Yue Chao reminded.
Jiang Cheng nodded.
“Ready—3, 2, 1—” Yue Chao folded his fingers one by one. “Go!”
On the screen, Jiang Cheng lifted her eyes.
At the Science and Technology New District, Youth Apartments.
Everyone was packed into the clubhouse: “Why isn’t it on yet?”
After the team had taken over the city government, they’d contacted home. Everyone already knew the city government had been completely wiped out, and that Jiang Cheng was leading the team to the TV station today to take it over.
They’d just received another call from Wu Jiancheng, notifying them that the TV station had been secured.
“Fuck, the zombies evolved again. If it weren’t for Mo Li today, we’d have lost at least dozens of people there.”
“Two things—first, we need to bring all those people back today and get them a proper meal.”
“Second—Jiang Cheng’s about to go on TV.”
The city government and district government had truly been targeted and eliminated, just as Jiang Cheng had said.
Song Jingshuo’s emotions were extremely complicated as he followed everyone else in the clubhouse, craning his neck to stare at the TV mounted on the wall.
While they waited, Zeng Qiang and Brother Dong kept talking.
Brother Dong was in a bad mental state right now; neither Jiang Cheng nor Zhou Wang approved of him joining the team.
They let him stay home instead. He was fairly strong now, and the team had enough people anyway—so they just had him guard the place.
Song Jingshuo turned to exchange a few words with the two of them, when suddenly someone shouted: “There it is! There it is! It’s starting!”
Everyone looked up.
On the TV, Jiang Cheng lifted her eyes.
“Hello, all citizens of S City. My name is Jiang Cheng.”
“It is with great regret that I have to announce this to you.”
“Today, at 3 PM on September 4th, my companions and I have eliminated all the zombies in the S City government headquarters.”
“Unfortunately—there were no survivors.”
“Mayor Zheng and all government employees have perished.”
Jiang Cheng paused for a moment after saying this, giving the people in front of the televisions time to process and absorb it.
Even those in the Youth Apartments, who had already been prepared in advance, were now crowded into the clubhouse listening to Jiang Cheng personally confirm this—and they all felt dazed and lost.
The government really was gone.
“Earlier than that, we had already confirmed that there were no survivors left in the district government of the High-Tech Development New District.”
“Therefore, spearheaded by the Youth Apartments in the Science and Technology New District, with the participation of Jixiang Jiayuan and Yujing Xiangyuan, the residents of the Science and Technology New District have established the Provisional Government of the High-Tech Development New District.”
“Regrettably, as a provisional government formed by the people, we have no channel to contact the central government or the military for assistance.”
“We have only ourselves.”
“Currently, we have formed a combat team of two hundred people. Our team has basically eliminated all zombies in the residential areas of the Science and Technology New District, as well as those in the district government.”
“If it weren’t for the need to confirm whether the city government still existed, we would actually be clearing the zombies from the development zone’s science and technology park today.”
“Today, we have eliminated all zombies in the city government and have basically regained control of the city TV station. We are currently clearing the battlefield and confirming our results.”
S City No. 14 Middle School, High School Division.
Five days ago, the middle school and high school students who had triumphantly joined forces on the street had, with few exceptions, basically stayed at the school.
Because most of the kids couldn’t reach their parents. Of the few who did, their parents weren’t home—or weren’t in a safe environment.
Going home at this point was pointless, not to mention how many zombies were on the road.
At the teachers’ urging, everyone stayed at the high school campus.
The school had iron railings and gates—maybe not enough to stop the high-jumping second-generation zombies or the intelligent third-generation ones, but at least they could block the mindless original zombies.
The cafeteria still had some supplies. Fresh vegetables were gone, but staple grains and frozen meat could last a while.
On the second day, some parents came.
They were high school parents who had awakened superpowers and gone through life-or-death ordeals to find their way here.
The teachers realized that middle school parents might also come looking, so they organized a team to return to the middle school campus and wrote in prominent places with chalk: [SURVIVORS AT HIGH SCHOOL DIVISION, HUACHEN NORTH ROAD.]
Sure enough, several parents showed up over time—some from the high school, some from the middle school. The middle school parents had found their way there because of the message.
Some of these parents found their children; others didn’t.
For those who couldn’t find their children, it was almost 100% certain they had perished.
But none of these parents left.
Because in the current situation, home wasn’t necessarily a safe zone, and the roads were even more dangerous.
Everyone stayed.
These parents were either superpowered individuals, or smart and fierce fighters. They also all had one thing in common—they loved their children deeply.
The arrival of these adults was a huge help to the teachers.
These past few days, everyone with superpowers—adults and children alike—had been training relentlessly, pushing themselves to improve and level up.
Especially the metal-type superhumans.
Wu Shuchen, the metal-type middle schooler, had already taken off his little glasses—his physique had improved, just like Zhao Yi, and he no longer needed them.
His superpower was now on a completely different level. He had become the main labor force among the metal-type users.
Every single day, he made armor—waking up and starting right away, taking breaks when tired, and working all the way until night.
The selfless dedication of these metal-type superhumans meant that every student, teacher, and parent in the school now had armor and weapons. And in return, their own superpowers—through high-intensity, prolonged output, consumption, and recovery—had advanced by leaps and bounds.
Among the parents, two had served in the militia and had particularly rich experience killing zombies. They organized the children for training and taught them combat techniques for fighting zombies.
Middle schoolers are at a passionate age. With armor and weapons, their blood ran even hotter—they clamored to go out and kill zombies.
The adults agreed.
Looking back now, the first zombie outbreak felt like a dress rehearsal.
Having lived through that first outbreak’s nationwide mobilization—leaving their homes—everyone knew they couldn’t just sit and wait for death. Humans had to actively fight to reclaim their right to survive.
Of course, the teams that went out prioritized older and stronger students.
There were adults and students, ordinary people and superpowered individuals—all with the protection of armor. Together, they walked out of the campus and methodically cleared the streets around the school.
These past two nights, everyone slept much more soundly.
The children didn’t overthink things—they were caught up in the excitement of “I can kill zombies too.”
But the adults grew heavier-hearted by the day. The cafeteria TV was on all day, every day—and after so many days, there was still no word from any government.
Until today—September 4th, the seventh day since the second zombie virus outbreak—a student helping in the cafeteria suddenly burst out shouting: “Come quick! Come quick! There’s someone on TV!”
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