Chapter 70: The Hunter Strikes – Part 3

Everyone present was a realist and a person of sharp wit; there was no need for formalities. A simple, mutual trust was enough, and there was no sense in performing some theatrical oath-taking ceremony. Fang Qiang stood up, signaled for the masseurs to enter, and stayed behind himself, opting to sit beside Wang Chen to report the spoils of their trip in detail.

The unhinged rookie had woken up inside a swaying armored vehicle. Fang Qiang, with a complete lack of conscience, had stuffed him into the vehicle and hauled him back to the base. Once the man sobered up, he was significantly more rational and gave his name as Hong Ru—a surprisingly elegant name. When Fang Qiang requested access to the armory, Hong Ru, after verifying the Zero-Eight Squad’s authorization on the computer screen, offered no objection, though he did pour a bucket of cold water on Fang Qiang’s enthusiasm.

There was almost nothing left in the armory.

It wasn't that the place had been looted; rather, when the pandemic erupted, the military had moved to the highest level of readiness, and all firearms and ammunition had been issued to individual soldiers. This was why, despite Wang Chen’s team entering the armory for the first time, they hadn't found it overflowing. Consequently, there wasn't much equipment left, and whatever remained was either obsolete or experimental.

Fang Qiang habitually tried to build suspense, but a sharp glare from Sheng Qingru cut him short. He chuckled sheepishly and continued, "There were too many zombified soldiers in the barracks, so we didn’t want—and couldn't afford—to disturb them. The armory was just as Hong Ru described; the standard-issue gear is effectively gone. However, there was plenty of backup stock. Aside from the main haul of ammunition, we managed to scavenge some semi-new Type 56 assault rifles, Type 81s, and some Type 95 modifications in decent condition. We also got two hundred brand-new Type 92 modifications. I won't bore you with the details of the rifles—there are over 170 of them. They’ve been well-maintained, though the barrels are quite worn. The Type 92s, however, look much better than the original version. They use 5.8mm rounds, and we have plenty of magazines and ammunition for them. We also grabbed a surplus of Type 56 magazines, Type 81 drum magazines, and a small number of magazines and drums for the Type 03 and modified Type 95. Oh, and most importantly, per Ren Wanrong's request..."

Speak of the devil: Ren Wanrong walked in carrying a firearm. He smiled and asked, "What's this about me?"

Knowing he was a wounded man and a hero who had held the bridgehead, Fang Qiang stood up quickly and explained, "We were just talking about the firearms you specifically requested. Anyway, I’m going to check the kitchen and get you all something good to eat. You two keep talking."

Wang Chen could enjoy a massage in front of Fang Qiang and Ma Tian, but it would be disrespectful to remain prone once Ren Wanrong arrived. He moved to sit up, but Ren Wanrong pressed a hand on his shoulder, setting his gun aside. "Don't be a stranger, Ren. You’re the hero of the day. Stay put—you’ve earned this rest."

They weren't the type to stand on ceremony. Wang Chen acknowledged the gesture and settled back down. Looking at the shotgun Ren Wanrong had brought, he asked, "Ren, is this the weapon you specifically asked Fang to bring back?"

"Yes, a shotgun. The military didn't have many, and they weren't issued to the front lines, so they were just sitting in the armory, and we took the lot. I checked—mostly Type 97s, eighty of them, and thirty-six of the Type 09s. We have nearly three hundred five-round and ten-round magazines, plus fifty crates of shells. That’s plenty for the settlement."

Seeing the confusion on Wang Chen’s face, Ren Wanrong explained calmly, "What we lack right now are marksmen. It’s fine to let the civilians practice with rifles, but building real combat proficiency takes time, right?"

The point clicked, and Wang Chen nodded. "Shotguns have high accuracy at close range."

"Exactly! That's my thinking. Not only is the accuracy high, but while these guns are easy to learn but hard to master, they are at least easy to learn. Plus, while the magazine capacity is low, it’s sufficient for perimeter patrols. And the stopping power is absolute—even if you don't hit a zombie in the head, a shot to the torso is enough to put it down! It beats those civilians this morning, who emptied a whole magazine in seconds without hitting a thing. Third, the muzzle is intimidating. It inspires confidence. Whether it’s a zombie or a bandit, it’ll steady the nerves of those rookies!"

Thinking it over, Wang Chen realized Ren Wanrong was right. There was real truth to the saying that an old hand is a family treasure. With a veteran like Ren, Wang Chen barely had to worry about tactical equipment—not that he could have managed it better anyway, given his lack of experience.

After confirming with Ren that they would unify the civilians' weaponry with shotguns and mandate proficiency training, Wang Chen shifted the topic to the riverbank defenses. He figured they could hash out a plan between the two of them without needing a full squad meeting, but Ren Wanrong looked troubled. "Actually," he hesitated, "laying landmines in the woods is the simplest solution, but that would render the dock unusable."

What use was a dock just for scenery? Wang Chen knew Ren didn't speak idly. He realized that before the zombie threat was fully resolved, the peninsula settlement would eventually need to expand its population. Scavenging for supplies wasn't sustainable, and they would eventually need self-sufficiency. Beyond farming, fishing would be essential. The reservoir was a living water source, and with no one catching fish upstream, the fish population would boom by next spring, making the dock vital for the settlement.

They couldn't expect civilians to leave the safety of the perimeter just to board boats for fishing.

"Barbed wire, patrols, fixed sentries... none of them seem quite right. They might stop zombies, but if thugs sneak in, it’ll be a headache. We can't keep an anti-personnel radar running 24/7..." Wang Chen sighed. He understood Ren’s dilemma; abandoning the riverbank was a waste, but defending it was resource-intensive. It seemed they would need to brainstorm further.

As the massage session ended, Ren Wanrong excused himself. Wang Chen thanked the masseurs, felt his body rejuvenated and limber, and sat up. He dressed in the clothes Sheng Qingru handed him. It was midday, and after the physical exertion and the massage, a good meal was the next order of business. And after that... Sheng Qingru was still thinking about Wang Chen’s earlier words—that unvarnished, practical declaration of affection. Her eyes were fixed on him, shimmering with unspoken emotion, and she whispered, "I'm mostly healed down there now..."

Had his stomach not been constantly reminding him it was time to eat, a daylight transformation into a beast wouldn't have been out of the question.

As the two walked out, lingering close, Yang Xiaohua rounded the corner with a tablet in hand. Completely oblivious to the fact that she was interrupting a romantic moment, and ignoring the awkwardness on Wang and Sheng’s faces, she said excitedly, "I found the hideout of Boss Tian!"