Ammunition Depot 067-3

Disappointment was disappointment, but life had to go on. Wang Chen was a man who never looked back once he made a decision. With a calm expression, he stood up and said, "Let's pull back. There’s no point wasting our time here; we’ll think of something else."

"Hmph! If I’d known it would end like this, I wouldn't have bothered coming at all!" Chen Chong sneered, as if the failure to secure ammunition was due to everyone else's incompetence and had nothing to do with him. No sooner had he finished speaking than the intercom on the iron gate behind him emitted a harsh, grating screech. Chen Chong let out a yelp, scrambled on all fours, and dived under the armored vehicle in two quick strides.

In truth, Chen Chong’s overreaction was hardly surprising. In a military camp teeming with zombies, who wasn't secretly on edge despite a calm exterior? Even with an armored vehicle blocking the path, no one could truly relax. Wang Chen had also been startled by the sound, though his reaction was to draw his sidearm and take a defensive stance. Ma Tian did the same, while the other civilians either ducked or crouched. Shu Chang grabbed a crowbar and stood back-to-back with Ma Tian, scanning their surroundings with a look that suggested he would crack anyone’s skull first and ask questions later if they popped up unexpectedly.

After the screeching stopped, a relatively youthful voice, trying its best to sound authoritative, came through the intercom: "You... er, you are currently damaging state—oh, no, military property. In any case, leave immediately, or we will open fire!"

*Damn it.* Wang Chen couldn't help but roll his eyes. Who on earth would be intimidated by such a threat? Aside from the iron gate, there wasn't even a security camera to be seen on the rock face. Open fire? From where? They would have been better off making some noise rather than issuing verbal threats. The fact that there was someone in the armory made things easier. Wang Chen walked up to the intercom, pressed the talk button, and tried to make his tone as formal as possible. "I am from the Central Special Operations Team Eight. We are here under orders from high command to secure ammunition. Soldier, state your identity!"

"I am from the Recruit Platoon... wait, just because you say you're from some Central team doesn't mean you are. How can you prove it?"

So, it was just a greenhorn. No wonder his voice sounded so frail. Wang Chen was only a few years older than a new recruit, but his worldly experience gave him an edge; dealing with a teenager wasn't a problem. He coughed a few times and continued, "If we weren't government personnel, we wouldn't be bothering to reply to you, nor would we need to. It would be much simpler to just blast through the rock wall next to the iron gate. You heard the explosion earlier, didn't you? A few more charges and making a hole won't be hard. Do you really think that with our capabilities, we need to heed your warnings?"

Wang Chen was gambling on the fact that the recruit had hidden in the armory when the outbreak began and had no idea that the concrete layers on either side of the vault were reinforced with cast iron. Grenades, or even small-caliber shells, wouldn't necessarily breach it.

Seeing that there was no reply, Wang Chen knew his gamble had paid off. He struck while the iron was hot: "If you have a monitor, you should be able to see that we arrived in an armored vehicle, and the anti-aircraft machine gun is still loaded with live ammunition. Do you think civilians could get their hands on military vehicles, let alone military-grade arms and ammunition? Keeping ammunition and firearms separate is a fundamental rule of our military's supply storage!"

Wang Chen didn't actually know if that was a "fundamental rule," but he used it to make the greenhorn believe that the people outside were highly credible and held significant authority.

The recruit now had only two choices: let them blow up the wall or open the door and let them in. Wang Chen decided to up the ante: "How about this? I’ll have my people retreat to the edge of the parking lot, and you open the door just a crack. I’ll come in alone to negotiate with you."

"No need."

After waiting a few minutes, just as Wang Chen was losing patience and preparing to press the button to ask what the recruit intended to do, the massive door trembled slightly and then slowly swung outward. A sliver of dim, yellow light spilled out from behind it.

Signaling the others not to act rashly, Wang Chen straightened his clothes, preparing to go in first. However, Ma Tian placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head slightly. Then, half-turning, he flashed a brilliant, sunny smile at Chen Chong, who had just crawled out from under the vehicle and was trying to act as if nothing had happened.

Chen Chong felt a chill run from the top of his head down to the soles of his feet. *Damn it! A tiger doesn't lose its stature even in death! I’ve already shown cowardice once and lost face; I can’t show it a second time!*

Well, the logic of a "213" youth was as eccentric as ever. Clearly trembling all over, he insisted on putting on a heroic, martyr-like facade. With his head held high and his chest puffed out, but his legs wobbling, Chen Chong took small, stuttering steps and led the way into the armory.

"You really are a piece of work," Wang Chen whispered to Ma Tian while Chen Chong was entering.

"It’s called making good use of waste," Ma Tian chuckled.

Before they could say more, both men stood inside the iron gate. In the dim light, Chen Chong was leaning against the door, fighting to keep himself from collapsing to the ground. Wang Chen focused his gaze on the figure in front of him. His appearance was plain and unremarkable—a slightly dark, thin face that matched his stick-like frame. His round, dark eyes were fixed intently on the newcomers. Looking closer, he saw that over his standard military uniform, the boy wore a bizarre vest made of connected cylindrical objects. A thin wire extended from the cylinders, and the other end was gripped tightly in the recruit's hand.

*A suicide vest? Could it be real?!*

By the looks of it, the kid had at least twenty sticks of dynamite strapped to him. If his hand slipped even a little, it wouldn't just be the people inside the gate who would be blown to pieces; the entire armory might go up in flames!

This was no joke.

Even Chen Chong was speechless now, and Wang Chen didn't know what to say either. Yes, Wang Chen had faced life-and-death encounters before; he’d even had guns pressed against his forehead. But those situations had happened in the blink of an eye, leaving no time for thought—he had survived purely on instinct. This was completely different. He was given ample time to think, and often, when people have too much time to think, they don't know what to do.

Presence is a subtle thing; it doesn't depend on numbers. When the spirit is high, a sheep dares to chase a wolf; when it is low, a tiger becomes a coward. Seeing the newcomers blinking in silence, the recruit’s confidence swelled. He raised his hand and shouted, "Don't, don't think I'm just a recruit; I—I am a soldier!" After this shout, he seemed to find his rhythm, and his speech became fluid. "Before my platoon leader sacrificed himself, he said: a recruit is a soldier! To be a soldier is to risk your life! Since I took this rifle from his hands, I am a soldier! My duty is to guard this armory! I won't let the enemy take a single bullet!"

Before Wang Chen could say anything, Ma Tian—who had always resented his father for forcing him into the armed police—felt a stir in his heart. He looked at the boy, who was clearly from a farming background, speaking with a thick, childish regional accent, and who had likely spent only a few days in boot camp. Especially the madness and stubbornness in the boy's eyes—that streak of stubbornness was exactly like his father's. Ma Tian suddenly felt he understood that stubborn old man a little better, and understood why some said that once a soldier, always a soldier.

Involuntarily, Ma Tian brought his heels together and gave the recruit a standard, crisp military salute.