The nineteenth day after the zombie horde outbreak, night, clear.
The battle had just ended. The twelve soldiers sat, lay, some still shaken, some panting. The vast kitchen was a scene of devastation after the war. Victory brought them no joy; an unusual silence hung heavy in the air, carrying with it a sense of apocalyptic desolation and bleakness.
In the exceptionally fierce battle, they had no time to think. Only now, with the dust settled, did they truly realize that their classmate, who had climbed trees and fought side by side not long ago, was now a corpse with his brains splattered.
He used to be so lively and healthy.
Just like themselves.
No one knows when the infection occurred; the fear brought about by this silent mutation is far more terrifying than the fierce battle with zombies.
The feeling of impending doom was more intense and real than ever before.
It's either a crisis, a disaster, or the end of the world—powerless to resist, with nowhere to escape.
"Holy crap, is it not over yet? Twelve against one... I'm not tired at all~~ I want to dance for another three days and three nights~~ My heart feels so light right now, like I could fly~~ I'm even singing these lyrics against my will! Okay, okay, join me~~ nok, nok, dancing from day to night..."
Fu Xiyuan's singing was no longer discernible; the distorted notes drifted into the night sky, merging with the sound of the wind and the commotion of the zombies downstairs to form a dance with an exotic flair.
Song Fei sighed and looked helplessly at Zhao He: "Tell him that the battle is over and we don't need remote support anymore."
Zhao He leaned against the corner of the wall, utterly exhausted, not wanting to move a single finger: "Didn't you hear him sing? He's not tired at all, he could dance for another three days and three nights."
Song Fei's black line.
Feng Qibai, who was standing by the window, looked up and kindly called out, "Finished fighting—"
The singing upstairs stopped quickly, and soon after, Huang Mo asked, "Is everything safe?"
Feng Qibai: "Safety, how are you all?"
Huang He: "I'm fine."
Asking two questions, answering only one, Feng Qibai frowned: "Where is Fu Xiyuan—"
Huang He: "I'm singing about oxygen deprivation."
The sudden cessation of the singing and the loud conversations between the upstairs and downstairs prompted the zombies to start banging on the windows again. The group of friends stopped talking and fell silent. About ten minutes later, the outside gradually quieted down. Feng Qibai secretly peeked through the blinds and saw that most of the zombies had left.
"Are they all gone?" Zhao He, who was furthest away, asked.
"Not yet, but it's almost done." Feng Qibai turned around and sat down on the ground again. Although he had a thousand emotions in his heart, when it came time to speak, all that was left was a sigh, "This fight was really something."
A sudden, throbbing pain shot through Qiao Siqi's ankle, and he instinctively rubbed it with his hand, which was noticed by Song Fei's sharp eyes.
"Did you twist it?"
Qiao Siqi didn't say anything, only nodded slightly. In fact, he had twisted his leg when he was tripped by Yu Zisheng. It wasn't very serious, and it didn't affect him at all during the fight. But now that he was calm, the pain of that twisted muscle, which was a little sore, became clear.
"He tripped me up, didn't he?" Zhou Yilu said calmly, though he still harbored some resentment, he no longer felt the intense indignation he had before.
"It doesn't matter." Qiao Siqi shrugged.
The deceased are gone; good or bad, right or wrong, no longer matter.
Just in case, after Li Jingyu knocked down the zombie, Wang Qingyuan came over and stabbed it in the head again. After finishing, he sat down on the ground, facing the corpse, and could see the whole body clearly with a simple glance down.
In fact, he kept his head down the whole time, and his sharp eyes behind his glasses didn't miss a single detail about the corpse.
However, it still didn't work.
With a helpless sigh, Wang Qingyuan finally gave up, raised his head and called to Qi Yan, "Everyone has their own expertise, you'll have to do it."
Qi Yan understood immediately, got up and went to Zhao He to retrieve the gloves, putting them on as she walked to the corpse.
Wang Qingyuan wisely stepped aside.
The place where Li Jingyu smashed the pot was near the grounds, which was the living area of the small team. Later, just in case, Qi Yan grabbed the corpse by the clothes on its shoulders and dragged it to the other end of the kitchen, which was the open space where he cut open the muscles to study the metabolism of the zombie when he first broke into the canteen.
Qi Yan removed the corpse's clothes and rinsed away the bloodstains with clean water.
With a rushing sound, the blood-red water flowed into the drain.
Wang Qingyuan picked up the mop, soaked it, and slowly wiped away the bloodstains on the floor.
The remaining friends looked at each other, feeling they should do something too. Some picked up pots, some tidied up, and some organized the spoils from the delivery point. But while organizing, they discovered that the woven bag full of warm clothes that Yu Zisheng had been carrying was still outside the window.
It was left outside when Yu Zisheng first ran here to wait to enter through the window. He ran away before he could get in, tripped over Qiao Siqi, and ran back inside, forgetting the bag outside. Later, when Song Fei, Qiao Siqi, and Qi Yan returned, they didn't notice and completely forgot about it.
Fortunately, only a few zombies remained outside. Zhao He lured them away to the other window, and Song Fei jumped out and easily retrieved the bag. By then, the bag was lying horizontally on the ground, completely submerged in the dark shadows of the wall, which explained why the three of them hadn't noticed it when they returned.
"Don't put it back down there." Seeing Wu Zhou about to put the cleaned cooking pot back on the stove, Qiao Siqi, Lin Dilei, Li Jingyu, and Zhou Yilu all stopped him in unison.
Wu Zhou was a little confused: "Aren't there more than a dozen large stoves? Why don't you just not use this one?"
Qiao Siqi: "nonono!"
Zhou Yilu: "You put it back so neatly, it's fine for a day or two, we can remember, but what about three or five days?"
Lin Dilei: "It's very possible that at some point we let our guard down and then, by some strange twist of fate, used it."
Wu Zhou: "So what? It's the bottom of the pot that's dirty, not the pot itself. It won't cause an infection."
Qiao Siqi, Zhou Yilu, and Lin Dilei: "We felt uncomfortable, so..."
Li Jingyu: "Please put down my weapon."
Zhao He, who had just returned from helping Song Fei with a diversionary tactic, was immediately met with a strong bear hug from Wu. The hug was so sincere that Zhao He could barely breathe.
"What's wrong?" Zhao He's heart jumped.
Wu Zhou felt a pang of bitterness and grievance as he recalled the four-on-one situation: "My buddy got bullied..."
Zhao He's face immediately darkened: "Who?"
Wu Zhou didn't spare a single name: "Qiao Siqi, Zhou Yilu, Lin Dilei, Li... what was it again? Anyway, they're the ones who messed things up!"
"Oh..." Zhao He patted his comrade's head, which wasn't much shorter than his own, and softened his tone, "Let's not stoop to their level."
Wu Zhou pushed the other person away, raising his face with a black line on his forehead: "Isn't our department's rule that if anyone is bullied, we should form a group and beat up the bully first, regardless of who is right or wrong!"
Zhao He looked up at the sky, then at the ground, but avoided looking at Wu Zhou: "Strictly speaking, we're not really in the same department..."
Wu Zhou finally understood, and couldn't despise the other party more: "The fearless Zhao Quanneng of the past is dead!"
Zhao He sighed: "Zhao Quanneng didn't die, but Zhao Quanneng only managed to be fearless. These other people directly confront heaven and earth. Haven't you realized their strength yet?"
Wu Zhou: "..."
Zhao He: "Putting everything else aside, just think about spraying floral water in the dead of winter. Can a normal person even imagine that?"
Wu Zhou: "..."
Zhao He: "And face masks and goggles, who the hell but a lunatic would buy ten sets of them for the school?"
Wu Zhou: "..."
Zhao He: "I just saw a suitcase. He was dragging a suitcase while fleeing for his life. What kind of mentality is that? He's laughing at life and death, treating the apocalypse like a vacation."
Wu Zhou: "..."
Zhao He: "Let's get back to singing..."
Wu Zhou: "I'll go help mop the floor right away!"
By the time the kitchen was mostly cleaned up, Qi Yan and Wang Qingyuan had also gotten their results. Yu Zisheng's body, now thoroughly cleaned, revealed clearly visible wounds. Almost every injury had a corresponding origin, such as the cut on the inside of his finger when his gun was taken, and the stab wound on his arm. His head was badly mangled, making identification difficult, but based on his battle recollections, he could roughly recall that before being hit by Li Jingyu, he had only suffered a cut to the corner of his mouth from Qiao Siqi, and a stab wound to his cheek when he was pressed against the sink.
Of all of these, only the injury from being hit by Joschi occurred before the mutation.
"I'm sure there's absolutely no zombie saliva on my hands." As the student in Class 1 who cherishes life the most, let alone something as deadly as getting saliva on his hands, even touching a zombie's clothes would make him tremble with fear and remember it deeply. "It bit my arm, but it definitely didn't touch my hand, and I didn't touch the bitten area with my hand."
The group of friends sitting in a circle looked at Qi Yan and Wang Qingyuan with puzzlement, waiting for the two researchers to explain.
Wang Qingyuan observed and learned throughout the process, occasionally lending a hand, but only as an assistant, and therefore did not express any opinions, waiting for Qi Yan to speak.
"Then this is the only possibility left." The latter pondered for a moment, then looked up. "There is a very small wound on the back of its right hand. If this is the source of infection, then it must have accidentally hit a zombie's teeth while punching it. But because the wound was too small, it didn't notice it."
"So he can still be so agile after being infected because the bite was shallow?" Song Fei still felt lingering fear when he recalled the previous battle.
"Not necessarily," Luo Geng thought for a moment and said, "It's probably related to basic physical abilities. Remember that guy who climbed into my dorm before? He was still flexible and agile after the mutation because he used to practice dance. He was an athlete, so he was already much stronger than us. It's not surprising that he was still stronger than us after the mutation."
"But he can dodge, he'll avoid our heads when we attack, and he'll specifically target small landmines and Li Jingyu. Is that also related to his physical abilities?"
"Um…" Li Jingyu interrupted Song Fei slightly, "There's no need to keep emphasizing that I'm the weakest in our class, or to be precise, I'm ranked after Little Landmine."
Josh said awkwardly, "It seems like you emphasized it yourself."
Zhou Yilu sighed: "And he emphasized it in great detail and comprehensively."
Wang Qingyuan happened to be sitting next to Li Jingyu, patted him on the shoulder reassuringly, and was about to turn around to join Luo Geng and Song Fei's discussion when Qi Yan beat him to it—
"On the way to the courier point, the zombies in the bushes were already able to stay silent when they heard us, and even ambush us. In some ways, they are very similar to Yu Zisheng after his mutation."
Wang Qingyuan froze, forgetting what he originally wanted to say, and asked incredulously, "You mean the zombies have evolved?"
"We are constantly enhancing our capabilities in the fight to adapt to this new environment, and conversely, the virus is doing the same. It is also adapting to this new environment and improving its survival capabilities." Qi Yan paused here, "But there is one thing I insist on."
Wang Qingyuan: "What?"
Qi Yan: "No matter how much the virus evolves, it will not make zombies truly possess human intelligence. Their so-called indifference to music, ambush, or head protection are essentially more like the survival instincts and hunting behavior of beasts."
Wang Qingyuan stared at him intently: "Sometimes, people are not necessarily more cunning than animals, not to mention that animals have fangs and claws."
Qi Yan's lips curled up: "When people want to be cunning, no species in this world can be as bad as us."
A subtle ripple stirred in the hearts of the friends. Although it didn't sound like a compliment, they inexplicably felt invigorated!
Song's heart was in turmoil. To still think her ex-boyfriend was handsome after the breakup was a disease, no, it was a terminal illness!
Whenever there's a new situation, the students in Class 1 would sit down for a seminar like this, which had become a regular occurrence. But this was the first time the students from Class 2 had participated, and the serious, focused, and united atmosphere of the meeting left a deep impression on them. They benefited greatly from it. He Zhiwen even borrowed a pen and half a sheet of paper from Class 1—the students had only brought a small notebook from the supermarket, and each page they tore off was one less, so they were quite economical whether using it themselves or lending it out—to jot down some key points, which they planned to share with Huang Mo and Wu Zhou when they got back.
Night had fallen, and as the temperature dropped, no more zombies could be seen outside the window.
The four students from Class 2, carrying their spoils from the delivery point, safely returned by following the rope passed down from their classroom.
The eight classmates in Class 1 shook out their winter clothes, some made their beds, some washed up, but Qi Yan stayed at the other end, staring blankly at Yu Zisheng's corpse.
It's unclear when it started, but work involving zombie corpses became Qi Yan's exclusive domain, encompassing cleaning, inspection, and disposal of the bodies—a complete service.
With a sigh, Qi Yan walked to the top of the corpse, bent down resignedly, reached under the corpse's armpits, and lifted it up. The corpse, which should have only had its upper body off the ground, suddenly lifted off the ground entirely. Qi Yan keenly felt the change in weight in his hands, and when he looked up, he found that Song Fei had come over at some point and was helping him lift the corpse's feet.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Song Fei was amused by Qi Yan's silly expression and urged, "Let's go."
Qi Yan snapped out of her daze and quickly walked towards the window.
Song Fei moved little by little, matching his footsteps.
A fierce battle may not guarantee a safe return, but even a moment of rest and respite can be fraught with danger. Yu Zisheng's mutation brought not only a life-or-death struggle, but also a suffocating tension where he could not afford to relax for even a moment, and had to keep his nerves on edge every second.
Qi Yan didn't know how much longer they could hold on, but he hoped it would last longer, much longer: "We all need to be okay."
Song Fei shook his head, revealing his white teeth: "It's not 'want,' it's 'will.'"
Qi Yan was stunned, then smiled. His smile was faint, but the tenderness reached his eyes.
Song Fei turned his face away, wishing he wasn't the referee—that smile was definitely a foul; a smile should have resulted in a yellow card warning, and another smile should have resulted in a red card and dismissal!
The two of them worked together to throw the body out the window. As they closed the window, they overheard Qiao Siqi discussing something with Zhou Yilu over there—
Josh: "Why do I always have to seduce zombies? Does wearing more clothes mean greater responsibility?"
Zhou Yilu: "No."
Qiao Siqi: "The lighter the weight, the greater the responsibility?"
Zhou Yilu: "No, not exactly."
Qiao Siqi: "The faster you run, the greater the responsibility?"
Zhou Yilu: "No, that's not true at all. Can you please not just look at the surface of things? We've never been such superficial people!"
Qiao Siqi: "So what exactly is the reason?"
Zhou Yilu: "With greater wealth comes greater responsibility."
Qiao Siqi: "..."
The friendly discussion has devolved into a physical altercation, interspersed with unseemly acts of hitting and tearing.
Song Fei withdrew his gaze, remained silent for a long time, and then said in a low voice, "I think he tripped up Qiao Siqi."
Qi Yan thought for a moment and said ambiguously, "Perhaps."
"That's true," Song Fei smiled wryly, a little embarrassed. "The person is gone, so there's no point in pursuing these matters."
Qi Yan stopped Song Fei, who was trying to turn back.
Song Fei raised an eyebrow in confusion.
Qi Yan said quietly, "Whether he tripped Qiao Siqi or not, if he hadn't run back when Qiao Siqi fell, but instead chose to save him like you did, perhaps he wouldn't have encountered that zombie when climbing out the window, wouldn't have punched him back, and wouldn't have... gotten infected."
Song Fei slowly shook his head: "Even if it happened again, he wouldn't save Qiao Siqi. In the face of danger, he puts himself first. From the dormitory to the supermarket, from the supermarket to the cafeteria, he always did that."
"That's why I said 'if'." Qi Yan looked into Song Fei's eyes and sighed softly, "But in this world, there is no 'if'."
In the same desperate situation, for survival, some choose ruthlessness, while others choose conscience. It's impossible to judge which is more effective, because both can create a chance for life, but both also contain danger.
All we can say is that we must always take responsibility for our choices.