Ch 72: Opening a Survival School Before the Zombie Outbreak

Su Huaijin’s teeth chattered as she forced out a quiet question through clenched jaws. “What exactly counts as ‘lasting’? Surviving one minute without being beaten to death?”

Having fought alongside her during the monthly exam and thus somewhat familiar with her, Qin Yufei’s vision went dark. He whispered weakly, “I heard the leader of those infected at West Mountain… didn’t even last ten minutes against the principal.”

Back then, he had nearly had his neck twisted off by one of the hooded woman’s subordinates. The entire winter break had been filled with nightmares of losing his head.

The others, secretly listening, felt a faint spark of hope.

“That’s not so bad. Someone lasted that long, so it’s not impossible.”

“Right, she lasted nearly ten minutes. We only need one minute. That’s just one-tenth. We should be able to manage that, right?”

Qin Yufei’s voice drifted like it came from another world, as if his soul had already departed. “Yeah… but I heard several of her arms and legs were cut off during the process.”

Everyone: “……”

Several?!

Why did they suddenly feel that letting the principal go kill the Zombie King alone didn’t sound so unreasonable after all?

Liang Yi and Su Huaijin were the pure strategist types among the thirteen, relying on planning and command rather than combat ability. Their fighting skills barely reached average, and their usual exam performance depended entirely on tactics to make up the difference. But that cleverness was useless in a one-on-one fight with the principal.

The two of them trembled like fallen leaves in a cold wind, looking moments away from clutching their heads and crying. Translated on Hololo novels. Resistance had already been abandoned.

Then a voice spoke beside them.

“I’ll go first.”

Everyone turned at once.

It was Qin Yufei.

He stared straight ahead, expression solemn, almost tragic, as if marching toward death. “My combat exam results were decent last time.”

Among the group, he was clearly the strongest in close-quarters one-on-one combat.

If he didn’t step forward now, was he supposed to push Su Huaijin or Liang Yi out instead?

Besides, after losing to the brute-type infected creature, he had spent the entire winter break training intensely in the gym. He felt he had improved a lot.

Maybe… just maybe… he could last one minute.

After finishing his self-encouragement, Qin Yufei took a deep breath and walked toward Fu Qing under the group’s respectful gazes.

…

Thirty seconds later, the first brave volunteer lay spread-eagle on the training field, looking extraordinarily peaceful.

Fu Qing still stood exactly where she had been, not a single strand of hair out of place.

“Next,” she said calmly. “Who’s coming?”

---

If the elite class curriculum had to be summarized in two words, it would be:

Getting beaten.

Specifically, getting beaten in creative ways.

With time short and too much to train, Fu Qing could no longer afford to take things slowly. She scheduled elite training both morning and afternoon every day. The overwhelming physical load earned the students a special exemption from the principal, freeing them from regular PE and combat classes.

Thanks to this packed schedule, the group gathered on the training field at fixed times daily, received their beating punctually, and dispersed just as punctually. The commotion was impossible to miss, and news that “a new class has been established at Fangzhou” quickly spread across campus.

Along with it spread another piece of information: the class was personally taught by the principal.

The forums soon filled with envy, jealousy, and resentment.

For quite a while afterward, many students even came specifically to watch the principal’s lessons.

After seeing them once, however, most of the jealousy mysteriously vanished.

The reason was simple.

Those thirteen students were getting beaten far too badly.

From Fu Qing’s movements, it was obvious she was already holding back and deliberately avoiding vital areas. The students were knocked down repeatedly but could always get back up, usually with nothing worse than red marks and bruises. After resting half a day, they were lively again and ready for training the next morning.

And that was precisely what made it unbearable.

Because it meant the principal wasn’t even using her full strength.

Low physical damage. Maximum psychological devastation.

In just half a year, Song Rushuang and the others had grown from ordinary students into capable zombie killers, ranking among the top two thousand students. It was impossible not to carry a little pride.

Yet after less than a week in the elite class, that sharp confidence had been completely ground away.

Standing before Fu Qing, they realized in despair that their so-called talent barely counted for anything.

Fu Qing showed them what a true genius looked like.

They could not understand it.
They were all human. Their ages were only a few years apart. So why was the gap between them so enormous?

After being beaten again and again, sometimes even under the watchful eyes of ordinary students, something subtle began to change in the elite trainees’ minds.

At first, they felt fear when facing the principal.
Then they were beaten into submission.
Then came embarrassment at being watched.
Until one ordinary training day, after being effortlessly thrown to the ground for the Nth time, someone lay there staring at the blue sky and drifting clouds and suddenly thought:

—Was she truly unbeatable?

Could someone in this world really be that strong?

Even once would be enough. If they could land a single hit on her, they would not betray the trust she had placed in them.

Otherwise… how could they ever stand beside her in the future?

Once that tiny spark ignited, it refused to go out.

And one day, Fu Qing noticed that when the trainees rushed toward her again, their eyes had changed.

At first it was only one person. Then more followed.

They began to seriously try to defeat her.

Even Su Huaijin, physically the weakest among them, would scramble back to her feet after being knocked down again, fierce determination burning in her eyes as she charged forward once more.

“Again,” they said.

Grass clung to their hair, dust covered their clothes. Their posture was messy, stubborn, even pathetic, yet they kept rushing toward her.

When Fu Qing realized this, a faint smile curved silently at her lips.

The elite class was small enough to fit inside the southern gymnasium, yet she deliberately chose the open training field instead, a public place where everyone could see.

She sparred with them in countless variations before spectators, defeating them again and again, all to draw out the hidden ferocity buried deep inside them.

No one could calmly accept repeated failure, least of all these thirteen chosen among the best.

And when they finally could no longer accept defeat, when they began yearning for change and actively thinking about how to beat her…

Only then did the elite training truly begin.

From that moment on, nothing could stop them from advancing in great strides.

---

Aside from daily combat training, elite students had another activity different from ordinary classmates.

Once every week, all of them entered simulation instances together with Fu Qing.

The simulation pods accelerated time, skipping non-active periods such as sleep, but even so, because of the weekly one-hour usage limit, many instances normally required several weeks to complete.

Fu Qing granted the elite class additional access time. Translated on Hololo novels. Once inside an instance, they would remain there until the mission was cleared or someone died. Only then could they leave.

This often consumed an entire weekend day.

After finishing, recordings were exported and another full day was spent reviewing and analyzing them.

Weekdays meant physical conditioning plus elite combat classes.
Weekends meant one day clearing instances and one day reviewing them.

Under such a hellish schedule, they constantly pushed past their limits, surpassing their previous selves every single day.

For the first time, they could clearly feel transformation happening within their bodies.

---

Whoosh—

A sharp punch cut through the air straight toward Shen Qingqing’s face. Just before striking her nose, it was blocked in a lightning-fast motion.

Her opponent seized her wrist, twisted sharply, and pinned her arm behind her back. The joint locked with a terrifying crack. Pain shot from her shoulder blade down her spine, forcing her shoulder to collapse instinctively.

She clenched her teeth, suppressing a groan, spun with the torque to disperse the force, hit the ground, rolled smoothly, and sprang back up, eyes locking once more onto the black-clad figure before her.

At that moment, her opponent looked down at her with calm indifference.

That glance, combined with the pain, ignited something primal within Shen Qingqing. Like a wounded beast, every nerve flared, ready to launch another lethal attack.

Ring—!

A piercing alarm shattered the tension. Wristbands vibrated insistently. The spectators snapped out of their daze as Su Huaijin hurriedly stopped the timer.

“Stop! Time’s up!”

Song Rushuang rushed forward with an ice pack. As usual, she glanced at the principal first, confirming she required no treatment whatsoever, before pressing the ice against her roommate’s shoulder.

Shen Qingqing’s chest heaved violently. For nearly half a minute she remained trapped in the intensity of combat.

Her eyes were bloodshot, sweat-soaked bangs hanging over them, concealing an unreadable expression.

Song Rushuang skillfully patted and soothed her. “Okay, okay, it’s over! Wake up!”

Gradually, the cold killing intent faded. Shen Qingqing blinked hard, her expression returning to normal. She took the ice pack herself and murmured a quiet thanks, already replaying the fight in her mind.

Song Rushuang clicked her tongue in amazement.

Where was the shy, timid girl she had first met last year?

Agile movements. A sharp aura. Calm judgment. Ruthless precision aimed directly at vital points.

She looked more like an assassin than a student.

And it was not only Shen Qingqing.

Song Rushuang discreetly looked around at everyone present, then down at her own hands. The melting ice had left moisture on her palm. She rubbed her fingers together and felt thick, rough calluses.

Every one of them had changed.

Only one person remained exactly the same as when elite training began months ago.

To her, that intense battle had barely counted as a warm-up. Her breathing was steady, skin dry, composure unchanged. Her unfathomable strength inspired both frustration and awe.

Fu Qing bent down, picked up a bottle of water, took a drink, then walked to the side and checked Su Huaijin’s wristband data. Rare approval appeared in her eyes.

“One minute and one second. Close-quarters combat passed. Not bad.”

The students looked at her with complicated expressions.

From Shen Qingqing’s lingering daze, it was obvious she had fought with everything she had, even striking with lethal intent.

Yet to the principal, this was merely one routine spar among dozens performed daily.

Defeat the opponent. Analyze data. Identify flaws. Improve them.

Since the elite class began, Fu Qing repeated this process every day. Translated on Hololo novels. The trainees grew rapidly, seeing the widening gap between themselves and ordinary students in each monthly exam.

But their distance from her remained immense.

No matter how desperately they ran, they could only watch her walk calmly ahead, unhurried, standing at a height no one else could reach, gazing down without disturbance.

Strangely, the resentment, anger, and self-doubt they once felt gradually faded.

They had grown accustomed to the endless pursuit.

…

Fu Qing marked a check in her notebook.

“Morning training ends here. This afternoon, remember simulation practice with weapons.”

Song Rushuang snapped out of her thoughts. She and the others straightened instantly and answered in unison:

“Yes.”

₊˚.🎧📓✩