Ch 45: Opening a Survival School Before the Zombie Outbreak

Ten minutes later, Fu Qing walked toward the black car parked by the roadside, a massive bundle wrapped in tent fabric slung over her shoulder and a cardboard box of chicks held in one arm.

From her relaxed gait alone, no one would have guessed that the “bundle” weighed more than eighty kilograms.

Using the car keys taken from Skull, she opened the trunk and tossed the bundle inside. The impact made the vehicle shudder violently.

Closing the trunk, Fu Qing leaned against the car and began seriously considering how to dispose of the body.

Dawn would arrive soon. She had to finish everything before first light.

As for Black Jacket and Baseball Cap, she had already questioned them while Skull was unconscious. After only a few questions, she realized they knew nothing about zombies and were merely unlucky men hired at the last minute. She tied them up again personally and threw them into the upstairs room still thick with the smell of gasoline, leaving them to fend for themselves.

Before leaving, she confiscated their knives. Even if they were lucky enough to find something sharp inside the room and tried to cut through the ropes by friction, it would still take a day or two of constant effort.

The gasoline on Baseball Cap hadn’t been wiped clean and had smeared onto Black Jacket as well. With the dry autumn weather, they would have to constantly worry about sparks igniting the fumes. It would be a long and miserable ordeal.

Fu Qing had no intention of wasting further time on two minor accomplices. Since neither had recognized their identities and would not dare report anything because of their own circumstances, she simply photographed them thoroughly for records and considered the matter closed.

She also had no plans to ever return to this old house.

She unlocked her phone, which was still open to the camera.

The album displayed photos of Black Jacket and Baseball Cap beaten into swollen, pig-headed shapes during interrogation. She frowned at the unpleasant sight, swiped past them quickly, switched apps, and opened the map.

Fu Qing had never considered letting Skull live.

Setting aside the danger a fanatic devoid of humanity posed to society, even if she handed him to the police, a home-invasion charge would not keep him imprisoned long.

When the apocalypse arrived and prisons inevitably fell, Skull would regain his freedom.

And next time, those following him might not be mere hired thugs like Black Jacket and Baseball Cap, but hordes of low-level zombies, perhaps even evolved mid-level ones.

She did not want to imagine the devastation a sentient zombie could bring to humanity.

He had to be dealt with immediately.

Her first thought regarding the corpse had been to bring it back to the school and dispose of it in the incinerator, hiding it using the system’s “concealment” function.

Fangzhou was entirely under her control. If she brought it there, she was confident no one would ever discover it.

As long as the remaining cultists did not report anything, no one would ever know Skull had died. And what were the chances a group of cultists would voluntarily call the police?

But after Skull’s death, as she looked at his body, she changed her mind.

The corpse was cold. The head drooped limply, the skin a bluish gray. A light press left visible indentations.

Even before true death, he had already been enveloped by the aura of decay.

Anyone who saw the body would know something was wrong.

A forensic autopsy would quickly uncover abnormalities and very likely discover the virus itself.

Fu Qing no longer wanted to hide the body.

She wanted to take a calculated risk and sound a warning for the world.

“System, would abandoning a corpse count as prohibited behavior?” she asked.

She deliberately avoided mentioning the consequences that might follow, exploiting a loophole.

If the system refused, she had other arguments prepared. After all, the system had never said she was the only one aware of the apocalypse. The existence of a Zombie King and its followers proved otherwise. Secrets like this could never remain hidden forever.

If a cultist’s death exposed the virus, how could that be her fault?

Static crackled faintly as if the system’s CPU were overheating before its electronic voice finally responded in her mind:

[It does not.]

Fu Qing nodded. Then there was no problem.

That saved her the trouble of further persuasion.

Now the remaining question was how to dispose of the body without drawing trouble to herself.

This was still a society ruled by law. The worst-case scenario would be dumping the body in the morning and having police knock on her door that very night.

She had already prepared herself mentally to live like other teachers, remaining inside Fangzhou indefinitely and never leaving campus again if necessary.

Supplies could be purchased online or handled by students. She only needed to endure ten months before normal travel became possible again.

Trading ten months of freedom to alert authorities early to the virus was absolutely worth it.

With the system’s concealment, Fu Qing would appear to vanish entirely from the world in the eyes of investigators. No one would find her, much less forcibly remove her from Fangzhou.

After all, this world had never contained a person named Fu Qing. No identity, no biological records. Any investigation into her would lead nowhere.

Still, that was a last resort. She needed freedom to continue investigating the zombie cultists. If possible, she preferred to remain unrestrained.

Her gaze settled on the black sedan beside her.

“System,” she asked thoughtfully, “if I want to dispose of a body, can you hide my movements so the police can’t trace it back to me?”

Hearing her speak so casually, the system experienced a brief moment of existential confusion. For a second, it wondered whether its label was actually “Management System” or “Crime Assistance System.”

Weren’t simulation management games supposed to be warm and cheerful, full of pink, cozy moments? How had things suddenly turned into something resembling a grim crime drama?

And the host’s tone when discussing corpse disposal was far too natural. Did she have any awareness that this technically counted as criminal activity?

Fortunately, the system possessed neither brain nor heart, or it might have panicked.

Electric currents crackled through its circuitry as it steadied itself and answered honestly despite its unease:

[If you choose a designated disposal area, I can guide your driving route to avoid surveillance coverage to the greatest extent possible, similar to the navigation path already set in your vehicle.]

Fu Qing listened quietly.

She had long noticed that the system helped in small ways within permitted limits, offering assistance that seemed minor but was actually extremely useful to her main objectives.

Finding this courtyard had been one example. Avoiding surveillance cameras was another.

She could not help feeling fortunate that the system she had bonded with was not like those in certain novels that sabotaged their hosts.

At least for now, this system seemed fairly reliable.

The system had no idea that, in Fu Qing’s mind, it had just been stamped with a bright red good person seal. Still internally panicking while dutifully performing its analysis, it continued:

[However, a corpse is an excessively explicit piece of evidence. It cannot be concealed through cognitive blind spots. If any information related to you is discovered on the body, or if investigators trace the victim’s movements before death and connect them to you, the probability of identifying you will greatly increase.]

In other words, the system could provide assistance, but it could not magically erase the connection between the corpse and Fu Qing.

Put simply, a cognitive blind spot was like a shaded corner on a brightly sunlit summer street.

If you dressed in black and quietly crouched within the shadows, passersby might not notice you.

But if you started dancing wildly in that shadow, doing something extremely conspicuous, the blind spot would collapse.

Murder clearly fell into the category of “extremely conspicuous.”

Fu Qing had expected this answer and was not disappointed. “That’s enough.”

Skull had come with ill intent toward the students, and Black Jacket and Baseball Cap were hardly clean themselves. They might even have been wanted before. A trio like that would certainly have concealed their movements on the way here, which actually made cleanup easier for her.

She had also chosen the courtyard’s location deliberately to lure out the cultists. It was a rural self-built house with few surveillance cameras along the route, and with the system’s reminders helping her avoid most monitoring, she had left very few traces.

Throughout the night, Fu Qing had worn a gas mask and double-layered surgical gloves, her hair tucked into a cap. It was nearly impossible for her to have left genetic evidence.

Even if something remained, it could not be traced back to her.

Most importantly, Skull’s corpse already showed bluish decay, making the exact time of death difficult to determine. Aside from tonight, Fu Qing had spent nearly all her time on campus, with dorm residents like Bai Tang able to confirm her presence.

If necessary, the system could even provide surveillance records.

All factors combined minimized the risk of exposure.

After a sleepless night, though dawn approached and exhaustion should have set in, her mind remained sharp.

Having quickly weighed the risks and benefits and concluded that careful disposal carried a high chance of success, Fu Qing made her decision.

Without hesitation, she got into the driver’s seat, set her phone navigation to a mountain foothill about half an hour away, and drove off.

The area around S City was mountainous, filled with scenic spots popular for outings. This particular mountain was relatively unremarkable, and at this hour on a weekday, few visitors would be there.

She arrived faster than expected. By the time she reached the destination, the eastern sky had just begun to pale.

Dim morning light filtered through thinning rain. Thick fog enveloped the mountain, visibility extremely low.

Following the system’s instructions, she parked behind dense overgrown grass, hoisted the bundle onto her shoulder, and began hiking uphill. Within minutes, damp mist soaked through her clothes, cold biting into her bones.

Fortunately, weather like this kept most people indoors. Fu Qing quickly found a clearing near the hiking trail and dropped Skull’s body beneath a tree.

The corpse lay among fallen leaves. Soon, small insects crawled onto it, slipping into nostrils and ear canals.

Someone who claimed to stand at the top of the food chain would, in death, become nourishment for the lowest decomposers.

Fu Qing gave him one final glance, adjusted her mask, and walked away without looking back.

Rain continued to fall.

…

Guided by the system’s navigation, Fu Qing drove Skull’s black car back to Fangzhou.

The vehicle itself was crucial evidence. Destroying it would be far more difficult than disposing of the body, so hiding it on campus was safest.

Fangzhou had an underground parking garage that had remained largely unused since the semester began. Though forums increasingly encouraged students to get driver’s licenses and weekend driving lessons grew popular, few out-of-town students could afford cars.

Those who brought vehicles were mostly local students borrowing unused family cars, or extremely wealthy individuals.

The parking lot had developed an amusing divide: Audis on one side, tiny economy cars on the other.

Fu Qing parked in a corner, turned off the engine, and covered the black car with a dust cloth.

Given enough time, once the cloth gathered dust, the vehicle’s presence would be completely forgotten.

With that done, a weight lifted from her chest.

Carrying the box of chicks, she climbed the stairwell to the faculty dormitory and knocked on Liu Yingchun’s door, entrusting the chicks to her care.

If they survived, they survived. If not, they could be buried in the experimental fields as fertilizer for the next crop. Dust returned to dust. Nothing wrong with that.

Fu Qing rarely visited, so Liu Yingchun was startled to see her, and even more shocked by the noisy box of chicks in her arms.

“Oh my, what happened? Why are all their wings injured?” she exclaimed, lifting one gently and clucking her tongue. “Even if someone was hungry, you can’t just eat them raw. Who did something so cruel?”

Fu Qing replied calmly, “I did.”

Liu Yingchun: “…”

The wrinkles on the elderly woman’s face deepened instantly. She touched her silver hair, coughed lightly, and changed the subject.

“Perfect timing. I was just wondering where to find teaching materials for the animal husbandry class. Leave them with me, I’ll make sure they survive.”

After a pause, she muttered softly, “And if they die… I’ll deduct student credits.”

Fu Qing could already imagine that even if the chicks died, identical replacements would mysteriously appear the next day.

People of Liu Yingchun’s generation had farmed and raised animals before. Experience was not lacking. Reassured, Fu Qing left the dorm feeling the long night had finally ended.

She ate a simple meal at the cafeteria, returned to her room, washed up, and collapsed onto the bed, falling into deep sleep.

One advantage of not teaching classes was waking naturally.

She slept until noon. Upon waking, the first thing she did was look outside.

The sky had cleared.

The body had been left near the hiking trail. With weather like this, someone had likely already discovered it.

She withdrew her gaze, got up, exercised, washed, ate, and made her usual rounds on campus, checking various classes. By mid-afternoon, everything appeared normal.

She opened her phone notifications.

Local news was calm, filled only with minor stories: traffic jams caused by minor accidents, a film crew starting production in S City, and similar trivial updates.

On social media, nearby users complained about sudden overnight temperature drops, damp clothes smelling musty in elevators, power outages caused by the storm, and morning traffic delays.

Scrolling further brought restaurant recommendations, tourist tips, tech district gossip, and a story about a university food-delivery thief finally being caught.

She kept scrolling until one new push notification appeared:

[Shocking! Has anyone heard about S City’s XX Mountain…?]

Catching the keyword, Fu Qing tapped immediately.

The content made her lips twitch.

It was an advertisement from a farmhouse restaurant at the mountain’s base.

[S City XX Mountain Daily Farmstay Promotion! Tea brewing, fishing, boating, barbecue… only 99 yuan per night, meals and lodging included!]

Fu Qing: “…”

May sensational headline marketing disappear forever.

Expressionless, she marked it as “not interested,” refreshed repeatedly, and found the local news still peaceful and uneventful.

Had the news not broken yet? Was it being suppressed?

No. Skull carried no ID or phone. No one would report him missing. With an unidentified corpse, police should normally release public notices seeking clues.

Even if a mysterious virus had been discovered and information restricted, the silence felt too complete.

Unease slowly spread through Fu Qing’s mind.

She monitored news and social platforms all day, but even by evening there was nothing. No reports, no online discussion, no police bulletins or missing-person notices.

By the third day, unable to suppress her curiosity any longer, Fu Qing decided to return to the disposal site.

She changed shoes, put on a hiking backpack, dressed like an ordinary traveler, and followed the mountain trail upward.

Not long after, she reached the clearing where she had left Skull.

She stopped.

Morning dew soaked her clothes, making her body feel stiff and heavy.

Leaves drifted down slowly, settling across the forest floor.

The corpse that should have been there was gone.

₊˚.🎧📓✩

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