Apocalypse: the Most Ruthless Person

”That’s right, it’s the precipitation.”

Fu Weijun and Xie Yanshan nodded in agreement.

”For now, we don’t know what kind of information is contained in the falling rain or snow, but both times the zombies have strengthened, it’s been related to rainfall. And the first time we discovered a mutated zombie was right after that light snowfall!”

Xie Yanshan spoke softly.

”The Corps once caught a mutated zombie, one with almost half its body metallicized. Someone recognized it as a mill worker from a nearby plant before becoming trapped by a milling machine and eventually mutating. But we found over a dozen zombies in the factory, and only one was mutated, showing that mutations have a large element of randomness.”

Xie Yanshan talked about the Cyan Dragon Corps’ past research.

Zhang Su thoughtfully nodded and suddenly asked, ”So, did you discover any secrets from that half-metallic body?”

Xie Yanshan replied, ”We cut the zombie body apart and refined the metal further, resulting in a metal block weighing about eight kilograms. After conducting various tests on the metal, we reached a startling conclusion that it had extremely low resistivity, almost akin to superconductivity. The test temperature was about ten degrees above zero. However, I don’t think it was a superconductor; the equipment was just too basic at the time, unable to detect small resistances! In the past, an absolute Nobel Prize-level discovery—yet now...”

At this point, Xie Yanshan laughed strangely. In today’s environment where industry is entirely crippled, even possessing a superconductor serves no purpose; such high-tech materials require a fully recovered industry to have significant utility.

Zhang Su felt somewhat uninterested after hearing this; he didn’t know much about superconductors but understood they were used for things like maglev trains, energy transmission, and advanced materials in computing.

”Where did the metal go? We didn’t find it when we visited the Corps.”

While it’s of no use now, it’s always good to have such rare items in possession.

Xie Yanshan shook his head helplessly and said, ”After completing various tests, the Commander took it away, and then it just disappeared.”

”Alright then...”

Zhang Su shrugged and went on, ”In any case, you guys should put some effort into researching these mutated zombies and see if you can create a special environment to conduct experiments. What if it works out?”

”Sure thing, Mr. Zhang, leave it to us.”

Fu Weijun agreed wholeheartedly. Though he and Xie Yanshan weren’t too optimistic about this direction, it was rare for the boss to be open-minded, allowing more extravagant attempts, which they must comply with!

After wrapping up the matter of cultivating mutated zombies, Zhang Su bid farewell to them and left the laboratory.

Walking back into the camp, the sky was gradually darkening; in recent days, it was the period with the shortest daylight time for Qin City, and it was already dim around five o’clock. Soft lights started to glow in some rooms within the camp; from afar, it looked like visitors had come during the tourist season, enjoying leisure amidst the mountains, peaceful and harmonious.

”I really hope this kind of peaceful life can continue.” Yuwen emerged from somewhere and walked up to Zhang Su upon seeing him: ”Mr. Zhang, don’t you think so?”

Smoke billowed from the chimney of the Little Lucky Inn, with several companions responsible for cooking busy in the kitchen. Zhao Dezhu’s loud voice could be heard from a distance; Zhao Xue and Zhang Ya returned holding baskets covered with frost blankets from the vegetable greenhouse. The vegetable greenhouse was only two hundred meters or so from the kitchen, yet minus twenty-degree temperatures were enough to ruin freshly picked vegetables!

Wu Lue and Liu Tianji were fiddling with the drones in the yard, with one drone dexterously navigating between camp buildings; Jia Shiqin and Guo Dachao were tinkering with something in the parking lot, where a camp light illuminated the area. Judging by the components on the ground, they seemed related to a generator project.

Others were busy in unseen positions, except for the Corgi Good Fortune, who leisurely lay by the kitchen door, belly against the ground without feeling cold. Its tail swung left then right; suddenly, it sprang up to catch food tossed from the kitchen, carefree and extremely content.

Everyone had things to do, and the camp conveyed both a fulfilling and bustling atmosphere, mixed with a hint of relaxation.

Zhang Su’s face showed a smile, and he nodded: ”Yeah, outside is a sea of corpses; being able to live like this is already very satisfying.”

Whenever he paused to enjoy a moment of tranquility, he would think back to those early days of the outbreak, where panic and fear felt never-leaving, just pressed down to the deepest heart, along with a slight sense of unsettlement about the future.

”Oh, right...”

Zhang Su suddenly remembered the broadcast he heard today outside, so he said, ”Today, while we were in Northwest Qing County, we heard a broadcast from a Tang City Survivor Camp via radio!”

”Oh? Receiving a message from there now? Seems like the signal isn’t weak. Any content?”

Yuwen immediately showed interest.

Qing County’s total area exceeds three thousand five hundred square kilometers, making it the largest in terms of area among Qin City’s counties. Frankly, the current population probably doesn’t surpass three hundred, averaging out to twelve square kilometers of land per person!

Being in such a scene births an unspeakable loneliness in one’s heart, but hearing about other survivors creates a paradoxical feeling—wishing for peaceful coexistence while fearing clashes over scarce resources.

Zhang Su shrugged and said, ”The content’s mostly similar, they’re recruiting survivors to join their camp and develop together. According to the broadcast, their numbers are nearing three thousand; even if reduced by tenfold, they’d still be a considerable force!”

Yuwen was about to give examples of Cyan Dragon Corps’ exaggerations when Zhang Su had already considered it, prompting him to ponder before saying, ”Tang City’s population was nearly five million more than Qin City’s. Coupled with Qing County being the region with the least population, I believe other areas in Qin City have refuges numbering three to five hundred people. Sadly, we can’t merge and develop together; otherwise, rebuilding civilization and technology would greatly accelerate.”

Surviving the apocalypse could be an ordinary member’s aspiration, but it certainly wouldn’t be the leader’s goal. If settling for such basic requests is the ultimate aim, the eventual outcome could likely resemble West Camp Village.

The leader’s planning and vision determine the upper limit of a faction’s development, while the collective mentality of its members provides the lower limit.

Population is indeed vital production power, but in this apocalypse where everyone feels endangered, the downsides of increasing population are incredibly significant.

Thinking about raising population brought Zhang Su memories of games he played before, where once population increased to a certain point, troubles would erupt, keeping him overwhelmed, even without external foes; internally, it would collapse.

”Oh, by the way, Old Yu, you mentioned a method to enhance cohesion with continuous population growth; what is it?”

Zhang Su humbly sought advice, a matter he truly wasn’t adept at. Currently, attracting a hundred and eighty people relied on personal charisma and groundwork, yet if numbers kept climbing, this approach would weaken.

Yuwen had long anticipated these issues, and when Zhang Su inquired, he softly elaborated:

”Myth, fiction, and faith—these three measures can enhance member cohesion. However, given our situation, myth is difficult to accomplish, requiring depth and heritage, while fiction is possible. Just like the Cyan Dragon Corps, Survivor Alliance, and as you just mentioned, the Righteous Dao Association.”

”These organizations construct frameworks, entwining people within, forming interest communities to bind hearts and ignite the spirit of service to the collective. My previous suggestion to draft a calendar served the same purpose; shared culture is another fictional means, which is more suitable for our current circumstances.”

”Regarding faith, it’s simpler than myth but harder than fiction, as traditional education makes people’s faith quite mixed. It’s difficult to expand quickly, but if deeply rooted, it becomes the most stable mode of governance—history shows plenty of evidence on this!”