Ch 77: Opening a Survival School Before the Zombie Outbreak

In the previous world, there were not many Believers. Yet several had appeared around Fu Qing in quick succession.

Some were chance encounters, like the madwoman she met in the shelter. Others, like Fan Zheng, had concealed their identities and infiltrated her side directly.

She had always felt it was a strange coincidence.

But instinct told Fu Qing that behind every coincidence there was an inevitable connection.

It was half a sigh, half an offhand remark. “Don’t you think so…?”

Lu Yan’s posture seemed to stiffen for a moment. Fu Qing glanced at him. Before he could answer, she turned and walked out of the classroom, waving behind her without looking back.

“I’ve said what I needed to say. I’m leaving. I’ve still got training tonight.”

“Oh.” Lu Yan snapped out of it and followed, quickening his steps to open the door for her.

But Fu Qing had already pulled the tightly shut door open. Just before she left, she paused again and said, out of nowhere, “Actually… maybe I do feel a bit guilty.”

Lu Yan did not react in time.

“Afterward, I replayed that day so many times in my head. The only reason I ever regretted that decision was because it got you killed.” Fu Qing turned back, frowning at Lu Yan, as if seeing him and also seeing through him, back to that day.

That day, shrouded even in memory.

“Not me,” Lu Yan corrected seriously. “I got out of that factory alive. The only one injured that day was you, Fu Qing. Everything that happened after was my own choice, not yours.”

“You bear the consequences of your choices. I bear mine. That’s fair.”

Fair.

Fu Qing rolled the word around once, then gave a soft laugh.

“No matter what, it feels good to see you again.”

The negative emotion was only a momentary illusion. She returned to her usual calm and cut it off cleanly.

“Goodbye.”

Lu Yan, who had tried to catch up and nearly got his nose caught in the door: “…”

Fu Qing left in a rush, brisk as a gust of wind, leaving Lu Yan alone in the empty classroom. He stood there for a while, dazed, then slowly raised his wrist, purely out of instinct.

And checked his own pulse.

*

[Assessment complete. Click to view report]

Survivors: 1883

Average kills, basic zombies: 5.32 per person (up 0.41 from last assessment)

Average kills, mid-level zombies: 0.70 per person (up 0.22 from last assessment)

Average survival time…

…

[Overall Evaluation]

Total: 2370

C: 0 (0%)

B: 0 (0%)

A: 2124 (89.62%)

S: 239 (10.08%)

SS: 7 (0.3%)

…

[Completed: Main Quest “Ability Test · Final”]

[Requirement: By the end of the school year, at least 1500 students reach an overall evaluation of A. (Completed)]

[Reward: Steel Ground-Spike Traps x1000]

[Note: Each trap covers a 2m x 2m area. No pre-dug pit required. After placement, the ground sinks automatically, positioning the trap at the bottom.]

…

[Hidden Requirement Triggered: By the end of the school year, all students reach an overall evaluation of A or above. (Completed)]

[Reward: 3000 Teaching Points]

Fangzhou University’s second-semester finals were lively.

They were called finals, but in a sense, they were also graduation exams.

Every instructor brought out their best, setting questions that were sharp and punishingly difficult. In First Aid, for instance, they used the simulation pods to build an entire question bank, then imported it as a dungeon. Students got three chances to draw lots, choosing one of three scenarios for the exam, including how to complete a surgical operation in extreme conditions without professional assistance, and so on.

After such surgery, fewer than one in ten patients would survive, but the exam tested whether the student’s response was calm and professional, and whether they had done the best possible under the circumstances.

Do everything you can, then accept what you cannot control.

When the surgery was done, students had to remain in the pod and stay with the patient through the postoperative recovery period, until they witnessed the final outcome with their own eyes, whether the patient recovered or died.

Only when everything had settled would the system issue the final score. Even if the patient ultimately died, a student could still earn full marks if their technique had been flawless.

In reality, the apocalypse made sterile environments nearly impossible, postoperative infection rates were extremely high, and fewer than one in ten patients would make it. Translated on Hololo novels. The rule that students must stay until the end and watch the patient’s outcome placed tremendous psychological pressure on them.

Yet the words “Assessment Passed” also seemed to tell them: you did the best possible under the circumstances, so you do not need to blame yourself.

For emergency responders, it is only ever doing everything you can, then accepting what follows.

Instead of deepening the shadow of death, that lesson dispersed it, giving them the courage to pick up their medical kits and head once more toward the next battlefield meant for medical soldiers.

And then there was Infrastructure.

All through the second half of the semester, Infrastructure students worked on a major project: in a simulation-pod map selected by Xu Mingyue, they were divided into groups and tasked with building a shelter from scratch, brick by brick.

Their final exam was to rely on that shelter to withstand a zombie tide assault lasting three full hours.

There were two scoring criteria: the shelter’s integrity after the horde retreated, and the group’s casualty count.

The horde was too large for students to leave the shelter to fight. They could only hold the walls, relying on the traps they had built and weapons cobbled together from scavenged tools, grinding it out to the end. The whole thing had an uncanny, frantic resemblance to Plants vs. Zombies.

To pass, students came up with every trick imaginable. Some never slacked off all semester, building shelters that were nearly unbreakable, then layering traps outside, and they held with ease.

Some students knew their shelter walls were made from materials that were not sturdy enough, so they dug tunnels in advance, covering the entrances with straw and foul-smelling coatings. When the defenses could no longer hold, they slipped into the tunnels and escaped. By the time the zombies discovered the tunnel entrances, they were already far away, at least earning survival points.

Others had prepared poorly and could only resort to desperate last-minute measures. Seeing their defenses about to collapse, they poured gasoline along the walls, hoping to set the zombies ablaze and pile the burning corpses into a barricade.

The zombies did catch fire, but the students themselves were overcome by smoke and suffocated, creating the bizarre outcome of an intact shelter paired with a score of zero survivors.

For the Zombie Characteristics course, the final exam included not only a written test but also a special lecture hosted by Zhao Yunxiao in the auditorium. He shared in detail the difficulties and breakthroughs he encountered while developing the serum in the previous life, then distributed two printed copies of his notes to everyone.

Zhao Yunxiao’s understanding of zombies had reached the cellular level, but that knowledge had been directly imprinted into his mind by the system. Truly comprehending it and translating it into teachable material was extraordinarily difficult. Humans are born knowing how to cry or move their limbs, yet explaining precisely how those processes work and teaching them to a nonhuman being would be nearly impossible.

It took Zhao Yunxiao half an entire year to compile those notes.

Though nothing could compare to his personal guidance, he believed the material would still greatly assist future researchers.

Zhao Yunxiao would no longer die, but his fate was inseparably tied to Fangzhou.

If, in the worst possible future, Fangzhou were ever to fall and the students scattered in all directions, then these thousands of copies of notes might become humanity’s final hope.

Bai Tang, Hao Zhenye, Liu Yingchun. During the final week, every instructor shared everything they had learned in their lifetimes and everything they had realized through facing death, offering it freely in every form they could.

Students learned through classes, through exams, through mistakes. Translated on Hololo novels. Until the very last moment, they continued growing like shoots after spring rain.

Even by the system’s standards, the transformation of Fangzhou’s two thousand students over a single year was astonishing.

From a majority rated C-level to an entire student body reaching A-level overall evaluations, with nearly one-tenth achieving S-level or higher, enough to lead small survivor groups in the apocalypse. It was hard to imagine that just a year earlier they had been so inexperienced and naive.

Yet the students still felt it was not enough.

The closer the apocalypse drew, the more often they woke in the middle of the night, as though examinees forced onto the stage before finishing their revision, hearts filled with indescribable anxiety and fear.

The end of classes meant that from now on, no one would step forward after their failures to patiently explain their mistakes. No longer would each death be followed by a harsh-looking yet meticulously detailed review report.

Only when they were about to leave did the students realize how deeply they had come to depend on Fangzhou.

*

On the day final grades were released, Fu Qing announced the official members of the elite squad.

Seven students across the school had achieved SS-level overall evaluations, indicating exceptional strength in at least one area and the ability to survive independently for long periods in the apocalypse.

Of course, the system’s rankings were only broad standards. Even within the same level, differences could be vast. Most students at Fangzhou appeared to be A-level, but some had reached that tier months earlier and were already on the verge of promotion.

These seven SS-level students, however, had only barely reached the threshold during the final exam, still some distance away from veterans who had survived years in the apocalypse.

Fu Qing believed those gaps would gradually disappear once the apocalypse truly began.

Moreover, achieving an S or SS overall rating did not mean every individual skill reached that level. More often, it meant the absence of major weaknesses.

Take Bai Tang for example. If the system evaluated her strictly, her overall rating might only be A due to poor physical strength and combat ability, yet her survival skills surpassed the vast majority of students at Fangzhou.

In the principal’s office, thirteen students stood nervously before Fu Qing. She lowered her gaze to the seven names on the list.

All seven SS-level students were members of the elite class.

The remaining six stared down at their toes as if they had committed some grave mistake, their faces mixed with frustration and disappointment.

Shame kept them from meeting the principal’s eyes.

After all, she had taught them so diligently these past six months.

Why had they not tried harder during the exams? Why had they not killed a few more zombies? Why had they made mistakes at critical moments?

One student felt their nose sting and nearly cried, hurriedly wiping away tears before anyone noticed.

Too embarrassing…

“Everyone starts from a different foundation,” Fu Qing said, closing the panel. “Even if you run the same distance, or farther, you may not reach the same destination. You’ve already done very well.”

Every student at Fangzhou worked hard, but these thirteen from the elite class had undoubtedly put in the greatest effort and shed the most sweat.

Fu Qing knew exactly how harsh her training methods were.

She had originally expected the intensity to drive a few people away. Instead, every single one of them endured to the end.

According to system statistics, all thirteen had made tremendous improvements in strength, endurance, agility, and speed, far surpassing the rest of the student body.

The six who fell short simply began from a much weaker baseline.

Accustomed to seeing their principal as a relentless drill instructor, receiving a rare word of comfort from her should have been reassuring. Instead, it felt like the prelude to farewell.

Liang Yi’s eyes reddened. He hesitated. “Principal…”

He wanted to say, Please don’t abandon us.

But the words would not come.

He had failed to meet her standards.

At that moment, Fu Qing spoke again.

“Now, I will announce the five members of the elite squad.”

Everyone quietly drew in a breath.

The names announced next were somewhat unexpected.

“Song Rushuang, Shen Qingqing, Su Huaijin, Qin Yufei, Liang Yi.”

“Yes!” Qin Yufei clenched his fist in excitement without trying to hide it, only to be quickly pressed down by Su Huaijin.

This guy really had no sense of timing. Didn’t he see that the people who hadn’t been selected were practically on the verge of tears?

Even so…

Su Huaijin glanced at the hand she used to restrain Qin Yufei and realized it was trembling slightly as well.

This was… wonderful.

Song Rushuang and Shen Qingqing, the close friends, had both been chosen. Overcome with excitement, they immediately threw their arms around each other.

Only Liang Yi reacted differently. The moment he heard his name, he lifted his head in disbelief, eyes still red behind his black-rimmed glasses.

He had never expected to be on the list.

He hadn’t even reached SS rank.

One of the rejected students quickly recovered and spoke up anxiously. “Principal!”

“I…” She glanced at Liang Yi, apology flashing briefly in her eyes before she forced herself to continue. “I object! I clearly achieved an SS rating. Why wasn’t I chosen?”

Her voice trembled with grievance.

“The list was determined based on your performance over the past six months, as well as each person’s strengths. I believe this is the best current combination,” Fu Qing said. Translated on Hololo novels. She lowered her gaze and noticed Song Rushuang quietly reaching out to hold the girl’s hand and gently shake it. Fu Qing paused briefly before continuing. “The elite squad is not only about selecting elites. More importantly, it must be a team with seamless coordination and no weaknesses.”

Song Rushuang and Shen Qingqing both excelled in close combat. Agile and adaptable, they fought in complementary styles, and together their effectiveness far exceeded what either could achieve alone.

Qin Yufei was also combat-oriented, but his advantage lay in physical endurance and strength. During the final month of training, he had even managed to overpower giant-type simulated zombies. Whether fighting alone or protecting injured teammates in emergencies, he was ideal.

As for Su Huaijin, there was no need to elaborate. She possessed exceptional strategic awareness and leadership ability, serving as the team’s tactical core. Song Rushuang occasionally produced sudden flashes of unconventional but effective ideas, adding flexibility to their combat strategies.

And Liang Yi possessed unparalleled spatial awareness. With him on the team, their movements would become far more flexible, allowing both rapid advances and clean retreats.

This was the result of Fu Qing’s comprehensive evaluation.

She stopped there. The students were all intelligent and quickly understood why this lineup formed the optimal team.

Only the girl named Xue Ran persisted. “But…”

“Not being selected for the elite squad does not mean I no longer need your help,” Fu Qing interrupted calmly. “Aside from me, the rest of Fangzhou’s students, your families and friends, and countless innocent people will all need you.”

Xue Ran froze.

“The eight of you who were not selected, stay behind later. I have something to discuss with you. The rest of you may leave,” Fu Qing said, looking toward the five chosen members.

“This summer, spend more time with your families.”

The five snapped out of their earlier excitement. After a long moment, they forced faint smiles and quietly acknowledged her words.

They left in silence. The remaining eight fell into brief quiet as well, Fu Qing’s final sentence leaving their emotions tangled, tinged with an indescribable bitterness.

They were competitors, but also comrades who had endured hardships together and trusted one another more than anyone else.

Only Xue Ran continued staring firmly at Fu Qing.

She could not tell whether the principal’s claim that she needed their help was genuine or merely comfort for those who had failed selection. If it was the latter, she resolved to find a way to convince Fu Qing to include her in the squad.

Xue Ran made up her mind.

Meeting her gaze, Fu Qing thought Xue Ran’s eyes matched her name: clear and sharp, as if a quiet flame burned constantly within them.

She recalled the student background information she had seen in the system records.

It stated that Xue Ran had been raised by her grandparents. Both her parents had been police officers who died in the line of duty shortly after her birth.

Her grandfather passed away from illness when she was in middle school. Earlier this year, her grandmother followed.

Whether influenced by her parents or because she had already lost everyone close to her and had nothing left to hold her back, Xue Ran had been the first to write “willing to participate” when Fu Qing asked for volunteers.

That day, she had left the principal’s office with everyone else but never truly departed. Her footsteps stopped outside the door, and she stood there quietly for half an hour. Only after everyone else had gathered did she return with them to sign her name.

Fu Qing wondered whether, during that half hour, Xue Ran had been thinking about her parents.

Fu Qing had not lied. She truly did have tasks for the eight students, though the mission she intended for Xue Ran was somewhat different.

On her own, it would be difficult to gain official trust.

But Xue Ran’s identity as the child of fallen heroes might serve as a bridge.

₊˚.🎧📓✩