Ch 109: Opening a Survival School Before the Zombie Outbreak

By the time Song Rushuang scrambled up to the roof of the gymnasium like a monkey, climbing it in a few swift movements, then calmly sat there waiting for the zombies to reach the top before gripping her knife and stabbing them in the eyes one after another in something resembling an assembly line operation, the special operations squad was completely convinced.

No one understood how a battle that was supposed to be a pursuit match, zombies chasing humans while humans searched for chances to counterkill, had somehow turned into Song Rushuang sprinting ahead, a pack of zombies chasing after her, and Zhou Lingxi chasing the zombies from the very back.

The mantis stalks the cicada, the oriole waits behind, yet the oriole caught nothing and instead watched the cicada lure the mantis into a trap and wipe them all out at once.

…Was this even reasonable?

Zhou Lingxi had clearly been confused the entire time. After realizing Song Rushuang’s method was impossible to replicate, she tried returning to her original strategy. But her rhythm had already been disrupted from the start. Her zombies had been dragged too far away, forcing her to spend extra time eliminating them one by one.

In conventional combat and other operational fields, students who had trained for only a year were still far inferior to the special forces members.

But when facing zombies, the students’ experience and tactical creativity left the soldiers completely outmatched.

This was no longer a matter of physical fitness or fighting skill. It was simply that the soldiers had never imagined combat could be approached this way at all.

After discovering that these zombies could climb buildings, Zhou Lingxi was startled at first, finally understanding the purpose of the safety harness Fu Qing had provided. She quickly copied Song Rushuang, fastening the lock in place and taking advantage of the zombies’ vulnerability while climbing, their hands and feet occupied and movements restricted, to eliminate several in rapid succession.

Some zombies were killed by Zhou Lingxi before reaching the rooftop, recovering part of the overwhelmingly one-sided disadvantage.

But unlike Song Rushuang, who waited comfortably for prey to come to her, Zhou Lingxi’s approach consumed far more stamina. She could endure it, yet whenever she glanced up and saw Song Rushuang lounging at the edge of the rooftop, resting while waiting for targets, she could not help feeling a little envious.

In the end, Zhou Lingxi finished nearly a full minute later.

Considering there were no spatial restrictions this time and the zombies were harder to eliminate than in the first round, her speed was actually impressive.

Her timely adjustment of tactics also demonstrated sharp adaptability.

But victory and defeat were already decided. Zhou Lingxi made no excuses and admitted her shortcomings openly. “I really didn’t expect that shout of yours to pull all the zombies away.”

The match had always been more about exchange of experience than competition, and after chatting earlier they were already familiar with each other. Zhou Lingxi did not hide her confusion and asked directly:

“Before the match, wasn’t it said my zombies would prioritize locking onto me? Why did they all follow you instead?”

Song Rushuang scratched the back of her head, searching for wording that might make her tactic sound more sophisticated, when someone suddenly cut in beside them.

“There’s no complicated reason. She’s just too chaotic.”

Su Huaijin had listened earlier as Xue Ran vividly reenacted how Song Rushuang had bragged about her from the sidelines, leaving her mortified. Now seizing her chance, she enthusiastically stepped in to explain, firmly denying Song Rushuang any opportunity to act modest.

“This round’s aggro settings were different from the ‘arena restriction’ rules. They weren’t absolute. In the first round, zombies would never leave the designated combat zone. But this round, aggro was only prioritized toward each participant, which means they could still be lured away.”

As she spoke, Su Huaijin glanced at Song Rushuang, who had already begun awkwardly scratching her head. “She probably decided to drag your zombies away the moment the principal said the word ‘priority.’”

It had been intentional from the start.

Song Rushuang laughed awkwardly. “Well, it was a competition…”

Zhou Lingxi watched her eyes dart everywhere but forward and immediately understood.

Earlier, they had all assumed the students were ordinary college kids. That attitude must have stuck in their memories, and now each of them was determined to prove themselves during the matches.

In a way, they had dug their own pit and jumped into it.

“But I still don’t understand,” Zhou Lingxi continued. “When I started shouting too, why wouldn’t they turn back?”

She wanted to hear more about zombie aggro mechanics. Even casual information from Fangzhou’s students might prove valuable later.

After all, Fu Qing’s understanding of the apocalypse had been built gradually over several years. Translated on Hololo novels. Even though she had already shared as much foundational and critical information as possible with higher command and Tian Xuejun the day before, many details inevitably remained missing, waiting to be remembered and supplemented later.

Moreover, national operations involved multiple departments and countless personnel. With different classification levels layered across the system, information simply could not flow instantly and efficiently through every tier.

Some intelligence Fu Qing had shared openly was later assigned varying secrecy levels during dissemination.

For example, the truth about Fu Qing and Zhao Yunxiao’s “return from rebirth” and the theory of a previous life ranked among the highest classified information, known only to a handful of top leaders and Tian Xuejun, head of the special operations group.

The reason was simple. Convincing people of such a claim was extraordinarily difficult. Mishandled disclosure might even damage official credibility.

More people knew of Fu Qing’s role as the primary provider of virus intelligence, though even that group remained tightly limited and heavily vetted. Bai Xianglei and his special operations squad belonged to this category, and thus were aware of the System and Fangzhou.

Information about the Zombie King and the Devotee organization had a wider audience, though it still had not been publicly released.

Fu Qing understood why. Authorities were guarding against infiltration by the Devotees from within.

In short, even intelligence she had already revealed had to undergo layers of review and organization before reaching lower levels. A massive organization simply could not achieve real-time information sharing.

Not to mention that there were still things Fu Qing had not yet had time to explain.

Before departing, Bai Xianglei’s team had received explicit orders: everything Fu Qing and the students said held value and must be reported in detail to higher command on a daily schedule.

During interactions, they could gently guide conversations to help recall overlooked details, but they were forbidden from probing into matters the students chose not to discuss.

Those topics might lie beyond their clearance level.

Before asking her question, Zhou Lingxi had also considered this carefully. Concluding that zombie aggro mechanics did not fall under classified information, she finally asked openly.

Bai Xianglei and the others gathered nearby as well, pricking up their ears and listening intently.

Su Huaijin answered as expected, “This is still related to zombie characteristics. When zombies move together as a group, the sensory sharpness of individual members is partially masked. In other words, even if some zombies sense that something is wrong, once everyone is running in the same direction, their brains can’t quite process it. Most of the time, after a moment’s hesitation, they simply ignore that uneasy feeling and keep running with the group.”

The team members: “?”

They looked completely lost. One of them blurted out, “Zombies actually have herd mentality? Seriously?”

The others turned equally puzzled eyes toward Su Huaijin.

Holding back laughter, she said, “Since zombies exist as a species, they can naturally be studied and analyzed. If you treat them only as mindless NPCs that need to be killed, you’ll overlook many traits that can actually be understood and exploited.”

“These are things the principal taught us. Over the past year, this is exactly what we’ve been doing, constantly analyzing zombie behavior patterns and then testing our hypotheses again and again in real combat. Thankfully, the results proved it wasn’t wasted effort.”

The special operations soldiers gradually began to understand, though they remained astonished.

The people of Fangzhou had genuinely approached zombies with an academic research mindset.

They were attempting to interpret the behavioral logic of creatures without reason, like searching for meaning in a madman’s actions.

What ordinary people might consider a pointless waste of time had, in Fangzhou, become a serious collective research project led by teachers and carried out by students through repeated experimentation.

Apocalypse survival and academic study were things that should never have intersected, yet here they had merged in a strangely harmonious way.

They had truly carved out a viable path.

Realizing this left everyone with complicated emotions.

Su Huaijin, however, did not notice. Studying zombie habits was simply part of their daily routine, so familiar that she failed to recognize how unbelievable it sounded to outsiders.

She continued, “The larger the number of zombies in a group, the harder it becomes to draw the attention of any single individual, and the harder it is to break the group apart. That’s also why, as the apocalypse progresses, zombies gradually gather into larger and larger hordes…”

Bai Xianglei and the others’ expressions shifted slightly as they realized this might be something exploitable.

Given the nation’s heavy firepower, a concentrated mass of zombies would clearly be easier to eliminate than scattered individuals roaming streets and alleys.

The more they thought about it, the brighter their eyes became.

Fangzhou felt like a treasure trove. The deeper one dug, the more there was to uncover. Even an offhand remark could spark new insight.

Realizing she had drifted off topic, Su Huaijin brought the conversation back. “So in that situation just now, Xiaoshuang was too attention-grabbing at the start and completely pulled aggro onto herself. Then she kept shouting while running, which made it much harder for Sister Zhou to draw the zombies’ attention back.”

The special operations team had fully shifted into lecture mode by now. They collectively drew out an understanding “Ohhh~,” looking at Song Rushuang with admiration.

“….” Only then did Song Rushuang belatedly begin to feel embarrassed.

“But,” Su Huaijin added, “if Sister Zhou had created an even bigger disturbance at the time, it wouldn’t have been impossible to pull the aggro back.”

Zhou Lingxi replayed her actions in her mind, suddenly wondering whether she had held herself back too much.

But that didn’t make sense. In her entire life she had never chased enemies across a battlefield begging them to turn around. How much more uninhibited was she supposed to be?

Seeing Zhou Lingxi’s self-doubting expression pushed Song Rushuang’s embarrassment to its peak.

She whispered to Xue Ran beside her, “Was I really that over the top just now?”

Xue Ran nodded firmly. “Yep. I think you have real talent when it comes to attracting aggro. Not just zombies. Watching you made me want to run over and bite you too.”

Song “natural-born aggro magnet” Rushuang: “…?”

She quietly stepped aside to reflect on her life choices.

Su Huaijin went on, “We use the term ‘aggro value’ to describe where a zombie’s attention is focused, but it isn’t an actual measurable number like in a game. In real combat, all kinds of unexpected situations can happen, so theory alone isn’t enough. You still need extensive practical experience…”

Everyone in Fangzhou had killed at least a thousand zombies and experienced countless simulation scenarios. Translated on Hololo novels. Many of those experiences simply could not be fully put into words.

Some judgments they could make purely by instinct were impossible for outsiders to replicate.

This was the students’ other irreplaceable advantage beyond knowledge itself.

They had gained an entire uninterrupted year of training that others did not have.

Fu Qing had provided an environment stripped of outside interference, an exceptionally pure training space where they could focus entirely on honing their skills efficiently.

If someone struggled with maneuvering around zombies inside buildings, they simulated complex indoor environments and practiced repeatedly.

If someone could not confront runner-type zombies head-on, they rented simulated zombies and forced themselves to spar against runners for an entire week.

In the real apocalypse, such training conditions simply did not exist. After a year of repeated training, their abilities had surpassed even many survivors who had lived through several years of the apocalypse.

After all, many survivors endured by clinging to stronger groups or moving constantly between shelters, avoiding direct confrontation whenever possible.

The people of Fangzhou, by contrast, had forced themselves to face every type of zombie and overcome each weakness.

Out in the wider world, every one of them could be considered a perfectly balanced elite fighter.

Only within the campus, surrounded by others who were equally outstanding and hardworking, were rankings formed, distinguished merely by differences in specialization and in the upper and lower limits of individual ability.

They were running far ahead of everyone else, blazing a path so that humanity, watching their backs, could begin to discover a way to survive.

And there were more than two thousand such students in Fangzhou.

At eighteen or nineteen years old, they were like blazing sparks, symbols of hope and light burning fiercely.

Bai Xianglei silently let out a breath.

He had been in Fangzhou for less than half a day, yet he had already lost count of how many times he had been astonished, how many times he had felt moved.

All of those emotions ultimately converged on a single person.

Fu Qing.

She had built Fangzhou and discovered and cultivated this group of exceptional students.

She had gathered teachers with different areas of expertise and designed a comprehensive survival curriculum.

She established the shelter, planned its functional zones, opened residency slots, and removed the students’ worries about survival.

She had shared intelligence with humanity at the very first moment, risking suspicion and even the loss of her personal freedom so that the system originally bound to her alone could benefit all mankind as much as possible.

Nearby, Zhou Lingxi was still praising Song Rushuang’s combat thinking. When she mentioned how Song Rushuang had thrown zombies directly off the rooftop, Song Rushuang blushed.

“That part wasn’t really my own tactic,” she admitted. “I just improved on something the principal demonstrated before…”

She had simply learned it on the spot and reused it.

At the start of the semester, someone’s performance had been so astonishing that it left a deep impression on everyone.

For a long time afterward, students across the entire school had become unusually enthusiastic about climbing, constantly trying to pull off flashy maneuvers mid-climb.

Humans were ultimately more agile than most zombies. Reaching higher ground provided both tactical advantage and the opportunity to exploit zombies’ limited mobility while climbing, allowing for rapid kills.

After Song Rushuang finished her explanation, everyone’s gaze shifted toward Fu Qing, who stood quietly to one side.

Bai Xianglei could clearly feel the students’ deep, bone-level trust in their principal.

Beyond trust and respect, there was even a faint sense of reverence.

Considering what had just been said, he began to suspect that Su Huaijin’s analytical approach to studying zombie behavior and Song Rushuang’s bold, unconventional fighting style both originated, in some way, from learning and imitating different aspects of their principal.

Every movement the students made carried traces of her influence.

Whether intentional or not, this school she had built with her own hands bore the imprint of her personal style from top to bottom.

Bai Xianglei found himself growing increasingly curious about this principal.

He could barely restrain his curiosity, held back only by Tian Xuejun’s order not to pry too deeply into Fu Qing’s personal information.

He could only hope that during some future mission outside the campus, he might witness more sides of Fu Qing beyond her role as the principal stationed in Fangzhou.

Forcing himself to refocus, Bai Xianglei turned back to the match.

“Two to zero. In a best-of-three, we’ve already lost,” he said seriously. “But both rounds have taught us a great deal. If you don’t mind, I’d still like to complete the third round.”

“That was my plan as well,” Fu Qing nodded. “There’s still one thing I haven’t had the chance to show you.”

The team members exchanged eager looks.

Fu Qing led them to a new location, a room housing simulation pods.

Through the glass wall facing the corridor, they saw rows of egg-shaped devices neatly arranged inside. Clean lines traced their surfaces, faint blue light flowing along the contours. A middle-aged man was slowly lying down inside one under someone’s guidance. Just before the upper and lower halves of the “shell” closed, they saw several probes attach themselves to his arms and legs.

The special operations soldiers instantly grew excited.

This was the futuristic technology they had imagined.

They rushed into the room behind Fu Qing. Before she could begin explaining, one of the simulation pods suddenly opened. The middle-aged man inside, clearly a student’s father, snapped his eyes open and struggled out. The moment his feet touched the ground, his legs gave way and he nearly collapsed.

Another pod opened beside him. A student stepped out, startled upon seeing the principal, then quickly noticed his father slumped nearby.

He hurried over to help him up and explained to Fu Qing, “My dad kept refusing to believe how bad things are outside. He insisted on going home no matter what, so I brought him into the simulation pod to experience a zombie horde firsthand…”

As for what exactly he had seen that frightened his father into such a state, the student did not say, but everyone could more or less imagine it.

Fu Qing fell silent for a moment, then waved her hand. “Take him outside to get some fresh air.”

Looking at the man’s terrible complexion, she felt that if the student said even one more sentence, his father might throw up right there.

Sometimes Fu Qing felt that when her students dealt with their own parents, they were no gentler than she had been with the students themselves.

She knew their intentions were good, that they wanted their parents to grow quickly and adapt to the apocalypse as soon as possible. Still, good intentions or not, the results could be… worrying.

Watching the student carry his barely walking father out of the room, Fu Qing actually reflected on her own teaching methods for a full two seconds.

Two seconds later, reflection complete, she pointed at the simulation pods and introduced them to the special operations team.

“This machine can simulate many different scenarios from the apocalypse. Combined with mission objectives, they become game-like ‘instances’ with specific tasks. Each instance has a different theme, allowing students to train in targeted ways.”

“But the environments inside are one hundred percent realistic. Stay in too long, and you might even start confusing simulation with reality.”

“The third round will take place inside the simulation pods. As for the content of the match…”

Her gaze shifted to Bai Xianglei.

“Captain Bai, would you be interested in fighting me?”

Bai Xianglei froze for a moment, his expression instantly sharpening.

His intense curiosity about Fu Qing herself and her strength, combined with the competitive fire sparked by losing two rounds in a row, made his blood surge at the thought of this battle.

“Is that really okay?” he asked quietly.

“Of course,” Fu Qing replied easily. “The others can enter the pods as spectators.”

At this hour, many students and parents had not yet returned to campus, and since simulation pod usage required earning time through completed tasks, more than half the pods in the room were currently empty, easily enough to accommodate everyone present.

Realizing they could personally experience the machine and watch the fight up close, the special operations soldiers could hardly hide their excitement.

Chu Hai and Zhou Lingxi could not help grinning. Bai Xianglei had been chosen as team captain not only for his experience but also because he was the strongest fighter among them.

With no zombies involved, no special conditions, just a pure one-on-one match, there was no way their captain would lose.

But as that thought passed through their minds, they accidentally caught sight of Song Rushuang and the others’ expressions and froze.

The students’ faces carried the exact same confidence.

Just like the soldiers, they seemed never to have considered the possibility that their principal might lose.

The two groups exchanged looks, the silent tension between them even stronger than when they themselves had competed.

While both sides engaged in an unspoken battle of stares, Fu Qing had already finished checking the empty simulation pods and gestured for everyone to choose one and lie down.

Bai Xianglei stepped up to his pod, took two deep breaths, and quietly adjusted his mental state.

It had been a long time since he had felt this trembling excitement before a fight began.

Only genuine respect for an opponent could create such anticipation.

“Oh, right.” Just before lying down, Fu Qing seemed to recall something. “A simple match would be a bit dull. Could we set the instance at a point several years after the virus outbreak, when humanity is nearly extinct?”

She spoke softly. “After all, the purpose of this match is still an exchange of intelligence. If we fail to stop the spread of the virus, if the number of infected keeps growing, if the zombies ultimately win… I assume you’d be interested in seeing what that looks like.”

The team members about to enter the pods stiffened slightly.

They remembered what she had said earlier, that the simulation’s realism could blur the boundary between illusion and reality.