Ch 12: Opening a Survival School Before the Zombie Outbreak

Fu Qing hired him on the spot.

An SR that cost nothing, even if she assigned him to scrub toilets he would still be a hidden master, the kind of monk who swept floors yet possessed terrifying strength. No matter how you looked at it, she came out ahead.

After being hired, staff could choose to be summoned immediately or delay the summoning process. Bai Tang had been called in front of Fu Qing because she and Fu Qing had met before, while Grandma Liu and Bald Uncle Hao were still on standby in the backend.

Explaining everything one-on-one would be a waste of time, so Fu Qing simply summoned all three of them at once. Skipping a chunk of the system’s process, she gave them a concise explanation of Fangzhou University’s origins and the school’s goal in being established.

Unlike Bai Tang, most people were happy to accept the chance to do it all over again.

Liu Yingchun was a kindly, approachable old woman. She had started tinkering with vegetable-growing partly to pass the time after retirement, and when she heard she could spend time with a group of energetic young people, she agreed without hesitation.

Hao Zhenye didn’t refuse either, but when he heard Fu Qing was the principal, there was a distinct note of skepticism in his eyes.

Leaders who were too young were always hard to trust, and someone who had made it to the end was bound to have a bit of pride. If he believed people that easily, he would have died seven or eight times over already.

Fu Qing didn’t care much. Making Hao Zhenye think more highly of her wouldn’t earn her any bonus, so why bother proving herself?

She sent out the course arrangements, handed out dorm keys, and saw the two of them off, letting them go back and digest it on their own.

Then her gaze fell on the last person.

He was a young man, wearing black-rimmed glasses, neat and mild-mannered, the kind of face that would vanish into a crowd the moment you looked away. There was a student-like freshness about him that hadn’t yet been worn down by society.

His file said his name was Zhao Yunxiao, twenty-six years old, intelligence A+, combat skill B-, and his survival ability was, outrageously, a C.

How had someone like this made it into the top 100?

Fu Qing looked at him, puzzled. She hadn’t thought there could be someone in the world even better at laying low than she was.

His intelligence gathering stat was S+, and the note in parentheses read: “Theory god, a textbook fountain commander.”

Fu Qing’s own intelligence gathering being S+ made sense. Zombies kept evolving, and Fu Qing had lived to the very end, so the zombies she’d seen were more advanced than anyone else’s. But Zhao Yunxiao had died earlier than she had, yet their levels were in the same tier. That was worth digging into.

As time went on, the number of human deaths decreased year by year. At the beginning, global deaths were in the tens of millions per day, and after a week it might drop to a few million. By year five, with only a few dozen people scattered across vast land, each with their own hard-earned tricks, they were even harder to “kill.”

Don’t be fooled by the fact that only a few dozen ranks separated Fu Qing and Zhao Yunxiao. Their times of death could have been months apart.

They locked eyes. Zhao Yunxiao’s gaze flickered.

Fu Qing looked down at his résumé.

Zhao Yunxiao’s past was simple: ages 18 to 21, enrolled at a top university; 21 to 22, his final year, an internship at a government agency; almost at the same time the virus broke out, he was formally hired by that research institution as a low-level researcher.

The résumé didn’t list any particular achievements, but for the next four-plus years, Zhao Yunxiao stayed employed there, until his death.

Fu Qing narrowed her eyes.

This work history was strange. The institution was famous. Logically, it wouldn’t set its hiring bar below a master’s degree, yet Zhao Yunxiao was only an undergraduate. And when the virus broke out, the world was in chaos. For an official institution to still have the bandwidth to hire a low-level researcher at that moment made no sense at all.

Fu Qing didn’t speak. Zhao Yunxiao panicked instead. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Grandma Liu and Uncle Hao’s backs intently. Only when they shut the door behind them and the room was left with just him and Fu Qing did he blurt out at once.

“Are you bound to a system?”

The question was unsettling and abrupt. Even Fu Qing couldn’t help being startled.

She kept her composure, neither confirming nor denying, and asked instead, “Why do you say that?”

Her thumb slid along Zhao Yunxiao’s résumé. A strange thought surfaced in her mind. Fu Qing’s heart stirred. She lifted her eyes, watching his expression, and before he could answer, she stated with certainty, “Because you have a system too?”

“Or rather… you used to have one?”

Zhao Yunxiao froze.

His body trembled, and he made an expression uglier than crying. “Y-you’re too smart.”

Fu Qing didn’t respond, but inside, she loosened a little.

If she could have a system, of course others could too. Zhao Yunxiao’s résumé showed that after the virus outbreak he kept working at that institution for more than four years. But Bai Tang’s freelance track stopped right at the outbreak, after which she was “staying at home.”

At the very least, that meant the official institution had continued operating for more than four years after the zombies appeared.

And that institution “happened” to be a biological products research institute.

From there, the reasoning was straightforward. For Zhao Yunxiao to be hired as an exception, he must have had something special that made up for his lack of credentials. And during a zombie outbreak, for a vaccine research institute, what mattered most?

Information about zombies, of course.

That matched Zhao Yunxiao’s standout intelligence gathering stat. He hadn’t gained his zombie intel after entering the institution. He’d been brought in because he already had it.

Not even five minutes into meeting, Fu Qing had seen through his biggest secret. Zhao Yunxiao had nothing left to hide and spilled everything in one breath.

“That’s right. That afternoon when the zombie virus broke out, a voice suddenly appeared in my head. It said I’d bound some kind of system, and it said the world was about to end, and my mission was to do everything I could to stop humanity from going extinct.”

“The system’s function was: every time I killed a zombie, I could absorb a spore from the corpse, and my understanding of that zombie type would deepen a little, until one day it would have no secrets left from me.”

“But that was just the theory. Even before I died, I never got to that point.” Zhao Yunxiao added gloomily.

Fu Qing listened without a word.

This was clearly a growth-type cheat. In the early stage it wasn’t as immediately powerful as cheats that granted abilities outright, but once you survived into the late game, the potential ceiling was unlimited.

Early on, it might only help Zhao Yunxiao learn different zombies’ weaknesses. Later, as the understanding deepened, it might help develop a vaccine.

Compared to individual strength, that was the true road to saving humanity.

If his understanding of zombies kept pushing into the microscopic realm, could there come a day when Zhao Yunxiao broke through some “world barrier” and became a god, waving a hand and making zombies vanish at the particle level, and so on?

…That was basically how those male-oriented web novels always wrote it.

By the time Fu Qing thought of vaccines, she had already guessed what Zhao Yunxiao would say next, and sure enough:

“But I’ve never even killed a chicken. Getting a cheat like this, of course I handed it over immediately!”

After proving his understanding of zombies, he was placed under heavy protection.

Because Zhao Yunxiao was just a fragile college student, and his athletic ability was bizarrely poor, for the next four-plus years he basically stayed inside the institute, waiting for others to bring in a bound zombie for him to kill.

He couldn’t use firearms, couldn’t tie it up to restrict its movement, and had to kill it with his own hands after a fight.

Of course, all of this happened under strict protection. The instant Zhao Yunxiao showed signs of being outmatched, the zombie would be shot dead immediately.

“I’m just too weak. I can’t kill many in a day before I’m done. And later, just when I’d finally figured out the basic zombies, they evolved again.” Zhao Yunxiao’s voice sank lower and lower.

Just as viral mutation complicates vaccine development, zombie evolution also affected Zhao Yunxiao’s ability. He had to kill stronger zombies to obtain the newest information.

Major shelters all fell within half a year of the outbreak. Yet this institute endured for more than four years. How many sacrifices that took didn’t need Zhao Yunxiao to spell it out. Fu Qing could hear it in the weight of his tone.

He was the “failed protagonist,” the kind web novels never bother to write about.

And Fu Qing realized something else, faintly and strangely. Her past self had been only an extra in this story.

An extra who lived to the end, and so became the protagonist, opening a new story.

…Was that the system’s purpose?

To rewind the timeline and rewrite the ending?

“I don’t have the cheat anymore, but what I learned about zombies is still with me. I know most zombies’ information and weaknesses. If you need it, I can tell you and the students everything. I won’t hold anything back,” Zhao Yunxiao said.

No wonder he didn’t ask for a salary.

Zhao Yunxiao might be timid, but handing the cheat over immediately showed his nature was kind and selfless.

Fu Qing patted his shoulder and simply said, “Thank you.” Zhao Yunxiao’s eyes reddened at once.

“It’s fine. I’m happy to get another chance,” he said, sounding as if a huge weight had lifted.

Fu Qing felt what he really wanted to say was that he was glad, this time, he didn’t have to be the “protagonist” anymore.

Once he recovered a bit, Zhao Yunxiao took his key and left, repeatedly promising he would prepare his lessons properly, looking ready to pull an all-nighter and work himself to the bone.

With the burden off his shoulders, he looked more at ease than when he had first appeared.

After Zhao Yunxiao left, Fu Qing opened the management panel.

Including her, Fangzhou University currently had five staff members total.

One shut-in, one deadweight, one vicious bald man, and one seventy-something old woman… the lineup was almost painful to look at.

But her funds were tight. She could only make do for now.

Fu Qing stood up and stretched when she heard a knock at the office door.

After she said, “Come in,” a head cautiously poked in.

When their eyes met, the owner of the head shrank back.

“Principal, we want to apply to withdraw.”

A girl with red-rimmed eyes spoke softly. She pushed the door open, and three more people stood behind her.

Fu Qing didn’t say much. She let them in and, after asking for their personal information, approved the withdrawal application neatly.

A ring of light flowed across the side of the wristband’s face, dimming quickly. With a click, the tightly fastened strap unlocked automatically.

“Hand the wristbands to me. You can go back,” Fu Qing said once the paperwork was done.

“Just like that?” one boy said in disbelief. “Aren’t you supposed to persuade us to think it over again or something…”

Halfway through, he shut his mouth, clearly remembering what Fu Qing had said in the auditorium.

With this principal’s personality, she really might not persuade them at all.

“I’ve already said what needs saying. Since you dared to come here, you’ve already thought it through,” Fu Qing said, putting the wristbands into the drawer. She neither scolded nor mocked them. Her tone was calm and natural. “Withdrawing isn’t a small matter. Having the courage to make a decision already puts you ahead of many people. But I want to remind you: since you’ve made your choice, you should also be ready to bear the consequences, whatever they may be.”

The four of them felt their hearts sink.

They had found each other on the forum. A few people who all wanted to withdraw gathered secretly in a corner of campus and talked for two hours before finally mustering the courage to come together.

In those two hours, they spent a lot of time denouncing how inhumane today’s simulation drill had been, judging the principal’s actions, and imagining everything as part of some conspiracy.

As they talked, they reinforced each other’s views. In the end, even those who had been wavering became firm in their decision to withdraw. In their eyes, Fu Qing had even stopped being human and turned into a blue-faced, fanged monster.

The boy who had just spoken was the same “13l” who had first called the drill anti-humanitarian on the forum. Before coming, he had even secretly tucked a dagger at his waist.

The “51l” who firmly believed it was the principal’s conspiracy was also among the four. Now he stood there with his mouth slightly open, listening to Fu Qing speak.

He had been fully prepared to trade barbs with the principal, even drafted multiple versions of what he would say, all waiting to expose her “true face.”

But none of it had any use. Fu Qing simply let them go that easily, leaving 51l with the powerless feeling of punching cotton.

If this really was a conspiracy, why hadn’t the principal tried to keep them?

For the first time, doubt rose in him.

A doubt that made him afraid.

What if…

What if none of this was a conspiracy at all?

₊˚.🎧📓✩