Ch 73: Opening a Survival School Before the Zombie Outbreak

The elite class would one day fight zombies at close range.
Even the slightest mercy toward an enemy could lead to irreversible consequences.

Because of that, throughout the entire training process, Fu Qing taught them every combat technique she knew without reservation. The only thing she never taught them was how to hold back.

After several months, their fighting styles grew increasingly aggressive. Even while simply walking around campus, attending class, or eating, as long as they were not actively talking to others, an intimidating aura clung to them, impossible to conceal.

If they had not still lived among roommates, constantly surrounded by companions in collective dorm life, Fu Qing would have worried about their psychological state.

Even when they deliberately restrained themselves in daily life, they were already like this. When they fully unleashed themselves in combat, the effect was even more pronounced.

Afraid they might lose control and accidentally injure one another, Fu Qing established a rule: all armed combat must take place inside the simulation pods.

After lunch, everyone returned briefly to rest and recover, then quickly gathered in the room containing the simulation combat capsules.

Fu Qing arrived last and lay down in a pod together with the thirteen students.

Once it detected a user, the pod automatically shifted from a forty-five-degree incline into a flat position. The upper and lower shells slowly closed, and a familiar, faint mechanical hum sounded beside her ears.

The interior was soft and comfortable. Specialized materials adjusted automatically to each user’s body shape, allowing even long sessions without discomfort.

Her limbs were secured in place. Countless sensors connected to nerve endings, transmitting realistic sensations. A helmet-like device enclosed her head…

Fu Qing had used simulation pods dozens, if not hundreds, of times. Activation, neural connection, helmet placement, every step was second nature.

But this time, she immediately sensed something was wrong.

After the helmet locked into place, a persistent stabbing pain spread across her temples. Fine and needlelike, not intense but continuous, like a mild electrical leak.

Soon her cerebral cortex felt tightly strained. Discomfort surged upward from deep within her body, her breathing growing heavier.

Phantom pain even appeared in her limbs.

She thought of the students who had entered the pods with her. Were they experiencing the same abnormality?

“System!” she called sharply in her mind while simultaneously attempting to exit manually.

But the pod seemed frozen on its initial interface. No matter how she tried to summon the menu, only endless white filled her vision.

No response. No progression.

The system responded quickly:

[Abnormality detected in item: Simulation Combat Pod. Diagnosing malfunction. Host, please remain calm.]

“…Disconnect me and the trainees,” Fu Qing said, forcing herself to stay composed.

[Command received. Attempting forced disconnection.]

A flash of white. The pain vanished for one second, then returned.

[Attempt failed.]

[Second attempt… zzzt…]

A harsh electrical screech cut through the air. The system’s voice grew distant and unstable, fading as if losing signal.

[Signal interference detected… connection to host… lost… zzzt…]

Fu Qing’s unease sharpened. “System?”

No reply. With a dull thud, everything fell silent.

Fu Qing: “…”

A very bad premonition rose within her.

The system was gone. The menu interface was gone. Fortunately, she could still move.

She began walking through the vast white void, testing her arms and legs. Aside from dizziness, her body functioned normally.

But her mood did not improve.

Her real body and the thirteen students were still trapped inside the physical pods. Elite training sessions usually lasted several hours, and everyone was accustomed to that schedule. No one would come looking for them during this time.

If the others were experiencing the same problem, it meant that at least until dinner, when Xu Mingyue or the others noticed their absence, no one would realize something was wrong.

Five or six hours was enough time for many things to go terribly wrong.

As she thought, the surrounding whiteness gradually thinned.

When her vision cleared, she realized she stood inside the familiar online lobby.

The thirteen elite students stood together in instinctive formation, positioned so they could support one another. They looked around anxiously, panic written plainly across their faces.

The moment they saw her, everyone visibly relaxed.

“Principal!”

“You’re okay, thank goodness!”

“What’s happening? Why is there no menu anymore?”

“Did the system get hacked? What about today’s training?”

Questions poured out one after another once they relaxed, as if they had found their anchor.

They seemed certain that as long as Fu Qing was here, every problem would be solved.

The students crowded around her like a flock of chirping sparrows, completely unlike their calm, lethal selves inside instances.

Meeting the unquestioning trust in their eyes, an unexpected thought surfaced in Fu Qing’s mind.

She might have made a mistake.

The mistake was letting them grow overly dependent on her.
If one day she were to leave Fangzhou, would the school still be able to function?

In truth, the elite class students were already capable of standing on their own. During months of simulation training, Fu Qing had deliberately placed them in dangerous situations alone, and every time they handled things well.

Yet somewhere deep in their hearts lingered a fledgling instinct. Their outward courage came from trust and attachment to Fu Qing. They believed that if they encountered a problem they could not solve, the principal would step in and cover the consequences.

Part of the overwhelming strength Fu Qing displayed during training had been intentional.

She had believed that as long as she appeared unshakable, she could stand at the front as a fixed point of reference, ensuring they would never lose their direction.
While chasing after her, they themselves would grow stronger.

It was the simplest and fastest way to force growth.

But she had overlooked something. Translated on Hololo novels. Students accustomed to running while watching her back would only become more lost once that target disappeared.

Since no solution presented itself for the moment, perhaps this was an opportunity for training in itself.

Facing their questions, Fu Qing simply shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

The unexpected answer stunned the students. They exchanged looks, brief confusion flashing across their faces.

They could not quite grasp what the principal meant.

Su Huaijin spoke first, quickly proposing, “Then let’s try different approaches. Some of us keep attempting to pull up the menu, and the rest can explore the lobby to see if there’s an exit or anything unusual. Maybe we can figure something out.”

After speaking, she glanced at Fu Qing.

Fu Qing nodded calmly. “I have no objections.”

The group dispersed at once.

Remaining where she stood, Fu Qing pressed her temple. The pain was becoming harder to ignore, though her expression did not change as she quietly observed them.

The students moved normally. Aside from being trapped in the lobby, they seemed unaffected.

So the discomfort caused by the helmet was unique to her?

Suddenly she remembered that months ago, when she had logged into the simulation pod with Yu Cheng, she had also experienced brief discomfort during login. Because the sensation vanished quickly, she had dismissed it.

Had the problem begun back then?

After circling the lobby several times, they confirmed everything looked the same as usual. The only difference was that no menu could be summoned and no exit could be found. It resembled an old computer frozen beyond control, except the holographic pod had no power button to force a restart.

A faint restlessness crept into their hearts, only easing whenever they looked at their principal.

Even Song Rushuang and the others did not know when this reliance had formed. By the time they noticed it, it was already deeply rooted.

Not just them. In truth, all two thousand students of Fangzhou trusted the principal immensely. Months of daily interaction and the care Fu Qing had invested in the elite class had simply deepened that attachment further.

Suddenly, a cold electronic voice echoed through the hall, interrupting everyone’s thoughts.

[Welcome to the Simulation Combat Pod!]

[Importing instance: 000X012-@ND%#%… zzzt… generating instance… loading instance…]

[Loading complete!]

The automatically loaded instance, its garbled name, and the occasional bursts of static within the otherwise smooth voice made everyone frown.

“What’s going on?”

“The pod loaded an instance that didn’t exist before?” Liang Yi tried to analyze.

Qin Yufei’s expression darkened. “If this were a game… this usually means a hidden boss.”

And a hidden boss meant a difficulty far beyond normal levels. Success brought massive rewards. Failure meant death.

But the simulation pod was not truly a game.

Their real bodies were still restrained, their brains connected through helmets. If they died inside this unknown instance, would reality truly remain unaffected?

No one dared gamble on that.

Someone started to speak again, but their voices were abruptly cut off. Including Fu Qing, everyone felt the world spin violently. When their vision cleared, their perspective seemed suspended in midair, as though their souls were floating upward. Only the electronic voice remained clear.

[Experience mode activated!]

[Historical archive importing…]

[Import complete.]

[Playing pre-instance animation.]

Pre-instance animation?

Previous instances had contained opening scenes, such as the campfire dinner in Instance 082 with Xiao Juan, but those had been called “prelude story sequences.” This was the first time they had encountered something labeled an animation instead.

Fu Qing quickly realized the difference.

A prelude story required players to act through events themselves, designed to evoke emotion and immersion.
A pre-instance animation, however, was simply a rapid informational cutscene.

Its sole purpose was to explain what happened before the instance began.

And thanks to this opening animation, Fu Qing finally understood the contents of the corrupted instance.

She watched silently as familiar scenes unfolded before her.

The animation began with a group of people gathered inside an old house heated by a stove, arguing intensely over a map spread across a table.

There were five or six of them, men and women ranging roughly from their twenties to forties, all in the prime of adulthood.

Before anyone could clearly see their faces, the features blurred automatically. Their bodies faded into silhouettes, and suddenly the number increased to fourteen, matching exactly the combined total of Fu Qing and the elite class.

Their faces shifted again, replaced by those of the elite students themselves.

This was standard simulation behavior, so no one reacted. They continued watching.

The group clearly followed Fu Qing’s lead, all focused on the map. It showed the floor plan of an old factory. Fu Qing marked several points on it, her lips moving as she spoke, occasionally frowning with visible displeasure.

The moment the students saw that expression, instinctive dread rose in their hearts.

But unlike interactive story segments, they could not control their actions in an animation. Events proceeded automatically.

Thus Qin Yufei, whose character stood closest to Fu Qing, watched helplessly as “he” slammed a hand onto the table and spoke urgently and forcefully, apparently opposing her decision.

Qin Yufei: “…”

Qin Yufei: “……”

Mom, save me!

“Fu Qing” looked at Qin Yufei for a moment, rubbed her brow, then turned to say something to the others. Someone raised a hand first.

Were they voting?

The result came quickly. The minority yielded to the majority, and almost everyone supported Fu Qing’s decision.

Qin Yufei watched as “he” stormed out in frustration, wandered outside for a moment, scrubbed his face, then angrily returned indoors and raised his hand as well.

That must be Teacher Lu’s role, Qin Yufei thought.

He just could not imagine what could have caused the principal and Teacher Lu to argue. Translated on Hololo novels. In his memory, Teacher Lu was always smiling gently. Even in the Xiao Juan instance, he had seemed emotionally steady.

The rest of the students shared the same confusion.

The simulation system provided an answer at the perfect moment:

[Background Information: Winter of the fourth year after the apocalypse. You and your companions are hiding inside an abandoned factory. However, the scent of many living humans attracts a zombie horde. By the time you realize it, the guard on duty has already been attacked and killed, their corpse hung high on the watchtower. They failed to send a warning before dying, and the horde has already surrounded the factory.]

[You escape in disarray, but two companions you have lived alongside day and night remain trapped deep inside the factory. After finding temporary shelter, the remaining group falls into fierce disagreement. One side insists on returning immediately to rescue them, while the other believes breaking through the encirclement is impossible and returning would only cause more casualties.]

[Your bond with your companions overcomes your fear of death. In the end, a vote is held. All agree to return.]

Fu Qing closed her eyes.

She had never uploaded this memory.

The simulation pod had forcibly accessed it.

From the background explanation, everyone assumed this marked the start of the instance. Yet the animation continued.

After a rapid discussion, the fourteen-person team split into three groups.

The role played by Qin Yufei led one group quietly away. They dug two barrels of gasoline out from a cellar buried beneath snow and filled the tanks of two jeeps.

According to the background briefing, their task was to drive and sound their horns, drawing away the majority of zombies gathered outside the factory.

Another group gathered materials and planted black powder explosives near the factory perimeter. Their mission was to lure visible zombies into the traps and eliminate them in one decisive blast.

Any zombies that survived the explosions would be finished manually.

The final group, led by Fu Qing, would infiltrate the factory itself to rescue the trapped companions.

Anyone who had survived to the fourth year of the apocalypse and kept pace with Fu Qing was clearly elite among elites, even surpassing the carefully selected members of the current elite class.

But by this point in the apocalypse, humanity on Blue Planet was nearly extinct. A single horde easily numbered in the thousands.

Each of them faced hundreds, even thousands, of zombies alone.

At first, all three teams progressed smoothly.

“Qin Yufei” successfully drew away the dark mass of zombies. He controlled the vehicle’s speed, leading slower basic zombies nearly a kilometer away before suddenly accelerating and shaking them off, leaving only the faster runner-type zombies in pursuit.

A second vehicle followed at a measured distance. Unlike the first car’s brazen horn-blaring, it moved quietly, only accelerating when runner zombies stumbled or tripped over obstacles, crushing their heads beneath the wheels of a modified off-road vehicle.

Flesh burst beneath the tires as evolved special zombies were efficiently eliminated.

Meanwhile, the second team slipped in during the timing gap. Covered in foul-smelling fertilizer to mask their scent, they entered the factory grounds unnoticed and planted explosives with crude but effective efficiency.

Soon, a thunderous explosion erupted, flames shooting skyward.

Most of the zombies wandering the grounds were blown apart. Those that remained lay crippled, missing limbs and unable to move, quickly dispatched by human hands.

The blast also drew zombies out from inside the factory.

Every moment had been calculated perfectly. Considering the original team consisted of only five or six people, meaning each subgroup likely had only one or two members, yet they managed to restrain a horde of thousands, the elite students watched in stunned silence.

They nearly forgot they themselves were trapped.

Until, at the edge of their vision, a familiar figure slipped swiftly into the factory.

It was Fu Qing.

During animations, the perspective did not follow one’s assigned character but instead hovered in a godlike viewpoint, allowing everyone to observe her actions.

She moved through the factory with unmistakable familiarity, eliminating remaining zombies along the way. Four years into the apocalypse, this version of Fu Qing was nearly at her peak. Unlike the younger principal seen in earlier instance records, her advance resembled a relentless harvesting machine.

But zombies that had evolved for four years were far more dangerous.

Special variants appeared endlessly.

Her pace slowed. Her clothing tore, though thankfully she remained uninjured.

After being slammed into a wall by a giant mutant zombie, blood appeared at the corner of her lips. The watching students’ hearts tightened, yet Fu Qing merely wiped it away casually, clearly accustomed to ignoring such injuries.

Zombies collapsed behind her one after another, but her expression did not ease. After glancing at her watch, she grew even more anxious.

Every minute lost reduced the trapped companions’ chances of survival. Outside, the diverted horde would eventually regroup, forcing the other teams to take greater risks to lure them away again.

Time ticked by.

The final zombie fell, revealing a half-closed door behind it. Fu Qing’s breathing grew heavy, each trembling exhale striking the students’ hearts.

They were so absorbed that they failed to notice the sound did not come only from the animation, but also from beside them.

She pushed the door open. Blood from a head wound streamed past her brow and eyes, blurring her vision. Through the red haze, she saw her fallen companions.

One lay on their back, limbs and face torn apart, clearly devoured by zombies. Their eyes were wide open, filled with terror and unwillingness to accept death.

Fu Qing froze. Her steps slowed. The ferocity she had shown moments earlier faded, replaced by stunned stillness.

She knelt beside the corpse. The dagger in her hand lifted, then lowered again. She hesitated.

Then, as if remembering something, she turned toward another figure lying nearby.

That person lay face down, their condition unclear.

For a brief instant, the students saw fear on the principal’s face. Fear of loss cracked her invincible composure, revealing rare fragility.

She was someone who always held fate tightly in her grasp, yet some things lay beyond her control.

The students suddenly understood the phrase from the background briefing: companions who lived together day and night.

Was that months… or years after the apocalypse began?

They could not stop themselves from thinking of their own roommates and classmates. The pain felt painfully real.

Fu Qing lifted the second person upright. Blood stained their body and face. Her eyes twitched as she reached to check their breathing.

Her movement suddenly stopped.

For several seconds, no one realized what was wrong.

Then her grip tightened around the dagger. Veins rose along the back of her hand. In a flash of cold light, the blade pierced the person’s temple at blinding speed.

Several students cried out in shock.

The young woman on the ground revealed her transformation, her hands below the wrists turning into blades that drove straight into Fu Qing’s abdomen. After death, the woman’s strength vanished, the blade sliding out slowly as blood poured from the wound.

Fu Qing staggered to her feet, then dropped to one knee.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor behind her.

A figure appeared in the doorway.

One of the guards who had supposedly died without raising the alarm.

Fu Qing lifted her gaze and met his eyes coldly.

…

[Pre-instance animation complete!]

[Instance officially begins.]

Everything cut off abruptly.

The students were still stunned by the sudden turn of events when their perspective shifted. They were no longer observers but participants, now occupying positions inside jeeps, the factory grounds, or the building itself.

“T-this…” Song Rushuang was shocked and furious, unable to believe what she had just seen.

That guard had betrayed the principal, killed a fellow guard, lured in the zombie horde, and caused the deaths of the trapped companions?

She had been assigned to the explosives team and was not far from Fu Qing’s location. Without thinking, she started running toward the place where the attack occurred.

Su Huaijin, assigned beside her, grabbed her arm just in time, nearly being dragged down.

Once steady, Su Huaijin lowered her voice urgently. “Don’t rush over yet. Let’s analyze first. Do you remember when the instance loaded, the system said ‘experience mode activated’?”

Sweat covered her face. She was clearly forcing herself to stay calm by organizing information.

Song Rushuang nodded.

Su Huaijin continued, “If this is an experience mode using an imported save file, players are locked into their original roles. That means the principal right now…”

They both froze, fear reflected in each other’s eyes.

That meant the current Fu Qing was being forcibly placed into the original Fu Qing’s role.

“…Damn it,” Su Huaijin cursed, jumping to her feet. “Forget analysis. Everyone, move. We take down that traitor!”

With the principal in danger, calm thinking was impossible.

The others, still waiting for her to propose a strategy: “……”

This time it was Song Rushuang who grabbed Su Huaijin tightly.

“Wait,” she said. “Don’t you feel like something about this is… strange?”

₊˚.🎧📓✩