The second zombie virus outbreak occurred on a weekday afternoon, and the results were far more devastating than the first one, which had happened on a weekend evening.
Government institutions across the country were almost completely wiped out.
Because government office buildings shared common characteristics—tall, spacious, with open floor plans and dense crowds of people.
Hospitals went without saying.
Even Renxin Hospital in the tech district was overrun with zombies, let alone the major hospitals downtown where a single department could have hundreds of patients.
People waiting for treatment crowded the hallways, having to say “Excuse me” and “Coming through” just to get past each other.
Universities, on the other hand, suffered relatively little loss.
Because the first outbreak had already caused tremendous damage to universities—too few survivors remained. Too many students had died. The ones who lived had spent this past month in psychological therapy.
In reality, even the therapists themselves couldn’t be sure they weren’t already half-crazy inside, having to force themselves to stay calm while counseling others.
Many universities were on hiatus, their campuses empty.
This time, primary and secondary schools were the hardest hit.
Office buildings and shopping malls were also major disaster zones.
Restaurants fared slightly better—many had just finished their afternoon break and were starting to prepare for business, with the evening crowd yet to arrive.
But there was one disaster zone above all others: military barracks.
Jiang Cheng had predicted during the first outbreak that military camps would inevitably be severely affected. Later events proved her right.
The government never released exact figures on military casualties, but the painfully slow pace of military rescue operations in cities made it clear just how severely understaffed the armed forces had become.
Jiang Cheng had even predicted that zombies evolved from soldiers—whose physical fitness far exceeded that of ordinary people—would be much stronger than regular zombies.
Everyone agreed with that logic, but without firsthand experience, it was hard to truly imagine.
Li Feng never expected to live through a second wave in his lifetime.
This time, everyone was far more experienced than before.
Last time, nobody knew that wounds would lead to infection—everyone had fought alone.
This time, many people fought back-to-back, guarding against zombie ambushes from behind.
But there were still those who couldn’t form battle formations with their comrades in time and ended up isolated.
Li Feng was one of those isolated fighters.
He roared as he swung a collapsible stool, sending a zombie flying to the side.
When the virus struck again, they had been holding an outdoor assembly. Everyone had a foldable iron stool.
These stools became Li Feng and his comrades’ weapons—their only weapons.
Weapons were extremely difficult to access in the barracks. Firearms and ammunition were kept under strict lock and key in the armory; each requisition required paperwork and authorization, and two people had to be present to retrieve them.
Cold weapons were auxiliary equipment and also stored away.
Now, setting aside whether they could even fight their way to the armory in such a large military district, even if they got there, they couldn’t find two key-holders to open the dual locks. So they had to make do with whatever was at hand.
A heavy blow came from a once-familiar comrade.
The iron stool flew out of his hands.
Without a weapon, forced into hand-to-hand combat with zombies, a single small wound meant certain death by infection.
Li Feng no longer cared. His heart was filled with rage.
This world belonged to humanity. These monsters shouldn’t exist, let alone try to destroy mankind.
“Die—!” Li Feng roared, throwing a punch.
He knew this punch would cut his skin, infect him, and kill him.
Too many people had died since the last outbreak.
Li Feng was beyond anger.
Ever since he woke up, there had been a persistent, stabbing pain in a spot in his head. In that moment, rage ignited that pain.
An eruption. An activation.
An immense, searing heat seeped out from his very cells.
Flames burst forth from Li Feng’s fist!
And it wasn’t just the size of the flames that was terrifying—it was the temperature.
His blazing iron fist slammed into the side of the zombie’s head. The force sent the creature flying sideways, while the flames had already engulfed its skull in an instant—
Scorching its eyeballs.
Boring into its brain through its nostrils and ears.
The flames seared through the skull, burning the brain inside.
Even a zombie that felt nothing from a severed limb or leg let out a piercing, agonized shriek.
Li Feng had no time to pay attention to the flames on his fists. He lunged forward, pinned the zombie down, and pounded its head again and again with heavy blows.
He didn’t stop until the zombie’s face was carbonized, the brain inside its skull reduced to charcoal, its body shutting down completely—dead for good.
Only then did Li Feng finally pause, raising his hands to stare at the flames enveloping his fists.
His fists, wrapped in fire, bore not a single wound.
He didn’t know how this was happening, but he knew this was his weapon.
In the military camp, superpowered individuals awakened and activated one after another at the brink of life and death.
An electric-type user sent current piercing through a zombie’s eyeballs, straight into its brain.
A metal-type user reshaped his iron stool into a long spike.
An earth-type user raised an earthen mound at a critical moment, using it as a barrier to block a fatal strike from a zombie.
Unfortunately, a water-type user, acting on survival instinct, created a water sphere to block a zombie’s attack—only to have it pierced through. The zombie’s claws sank directly into the user’s throat.
Blood sprayed everywhere.
If the people from the youth apartment complex had witnessed the intensity of these superpowers, they would have been absolutely stunned.
Compared to them, the little sparks, tiny water droplets, weak currents, and small mounds of earth from the youth apartment were like the difference between an adult and a child.
Ordinary people and soldiers were simply on completely different levels.
Gritting his teeth against the stabbing pain in his brain, the metal-type user melted iron stools into spikes one after another and tossed them to his comrades.
With such offensive weapons in hand, the survivors’ combat effectiveness immediately skyrocketed.
The metal-type user exhausted himself so severely that blood flowed from his eyes, nostrils, and ears.
But he never stopped.
Each time he used his power, one more comrade got a weapon.
Until several people returned from the engineering battalion’s equipment room with engineer shovels.
Engineer shovels weren’t classified as weapons but as tools and equipment, stored in the equipment room.
But everyone in the military knew that the army’s engineer shovels could absolutely function as cold weapons.
With spikes and engineer shovels in hand, the survivors no longer had to simply defend—they roared and charged at the zombies.
The metal-type user, using his power for the first time, had pushed beyond what his body could withstand.
A certain point in his brain could no longer hold up. It burst.
The user collapsed to the ground, bleeding from all seven orifices, dying a heroic death.
The tide had turned.
Among the zombies, the third-generation ones were different from the original and second-generation types—they had a sense of life and death. When the third-generation zombies realized that the number of humans now exceeded the number of zombies and the situation was irreversible, they fled one after another.
The second-generation and original zombies were wiped out by the surviving soldiers.
This battle was shorter than the first zombie virus outbreak.
Actually, during the first outbreak, the zombies that had just turned were all original types, and that initial clash ended quickly.
But back then, nobody knew that the wounded would become infected. The real battle only began when large numbers of injured soldiers started mutating.
People kept getting wounded. People kept turning.
Until finally, someone realized the root of the problem: the virus was transmitted through blood.
After dealing with the zombies, the survivors turned the blades of their engineer shovels toward their wounded comrades.
It was agonizing. It was powerless. But no one had a better solution.
The armory was finally opened, and firearms were obtained. Using guns to end a comrade’s life was far less painful than using cold weapons.
The wounded didn’t resist. They closed their eyes.
Li Feng, tears streaming down his face, pulled the trigger again and again, putting bullets through the heads of his wounded comrades.
Until all the wounded had been executed.
This was far more brutal and direct than the youth apartment’s method of locking the wounded into a conference room all at once.
But it was the most effective.
No new zombies were being produced.
The surviving soldiers gathered for a roll call.
Then they discovered that there were no high-ranking officers among them—the highest rank present was only a major.
The major said: “We need to contact our superiors immediately.”
At this critical moment, the country needed them. Even though they had just gone through a battle that had drained every ounce of their strength.
They had to get in touch with the higher-ups right away.
There weren’t many surviving officers, and Li Feng was among them.
The soldiers were dealing with the bodies outside, while the officers gathered in the battalion headquarters office, trying to reach their superiors.
But they couldn’t get through.
One call after another—the officers took turns dialing, working their way up the chain of command.
No one could reach anyone.
The officers grew increasingly desperate.
They had dialed all the way to the capital, to the central government—still… no response.
The major held the receiver, his face blank with confusion.
Everyone looked at each other, the same bewilderment mirrored on every face.
Even during the first zombie crisis, the battalion had quickly made contact with surviving superior officers, and those superiors had quickly reached theirs.
That first outbreak had been on a weekend evening.
High-ranking officers didn’t live on base, so many of them had survived.
But this time…
Was there no one left to lead them?
The people at the youth apartment complex had no idea how explosively powerful the soldiers’ superpowers had become. They were still smugly pleased with their own tiny little abilities.
But someone with the survival instincts of Jiang Bing had already sensed that something was off.
Other people had fire, lightning, even earth—all of which could be used for offense or defense. What could his water do?
Right now, everyone’s powers were still weak, and most people hadn’t thought that far ahead. But Jiang Bing had already started worrying.
The excitement he’d felt upon first discovering his power was gone, replaced by a vague unease.
After getting the walkie-talkies from the property management office, everyone prepared to clear the buildings.
As usual, each building was responsible for itself.
By now, very few households in the complex had their lights on. Since everyone had woken up while it was still light out, most people were already downstairs.
After dividing into teams by building, Su Yu saw that Building 2 had enough people, so she said to Jiang Bing: “I’m going to Building 3.”
She added: “I need to check on Fuduoduo.”
Jiang Bing knew Fuduoduo was the little dog He Tian had kept. He’d even played with the puppy, balancing it on his head before.
He said: “Go ahead, go ahead.”
Then he cautioned: “Stay with the group—don’t go off on your own.”
So Su Yu went with the Building 3 team.
Building 3 no longer had Nie Kuizhang, Peng Ze, or He Tian—all of whom had been floor captains and active members before.
The group temporarily elected someone new as floor captain.
Su Yu followed along with them.
As usual, they started clearing from the top floor downward, and Su Yu did her part.
The superpower she’d awakened was the protective shield. People still didn’t know much about it, but that didn’t stop them from thinking it was awesome.
Su Yu noticed that the way people treated her now had shifted subtly compared to before.
When they reached He Tian’s floor, Su Yu finally saw Fuduoduo.
Su Yu had been thinking that since He Tian was gone, she would adopt Fuduoduo.
Earlier today, before they’d all passed out, they had still been chatting on messaging apps.
[If I turn, you come over and take me out.]
That was the last message He Tian had sent her.
Su Yu still remembered the second-to-last one—
[I locked Fuduoduo in the bathroom. She can’t open the door. If I turn, you take her home and raise her.]
Su Yu looked at the bloody bathroom.
Fur and eyeballs.
Bloody handprints on the toilet seat.
Su Yu’s tears began to fall.
He Tian had loved Fuduoduo so much.
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