There is no such thing as the most tragic—only ever more tragic still.

"Hey! You lot! Yes, you! What are you staring at? Come over and help! Quick!"

"I don't care which unit you're from! If you're wearing a regiment badge, act like a soldier! Stop scowling, who are you trying to intimidate? Shape up! We're the People's Liberation Army— the last hope for civilians!"

"Everyone's lost comrades and loved ones! Don't use that as an excuse! Right now, we have to care for the living! If you want to cry, wait until you're alone tonight! Enough nonsense, hurry up!"

That shrill voice, almost grating, swept away every excuse from Yang Xiaohua and Fang Qiang. Faced with a woman clearly in her forties, nearing fifty, who could annihilate any argument with her sharp tongue and the air of someone who's seen it all, Joanna's South American face and attempted international charm were equally ineffective.

So, including Wang Chen, whose mind was still in turmoil, everyone waiting outside the prefab shelters for news was summoned by this self-proclaimed chief obstetrician of the army medical unit to lend a hand.

The urgency was real— as the only medical facility functioning normally within a hundred kilometers, equipped with patrol vehicles, formidable firepower, and even armed drones, when was it not urgent?

Three large buses had just arrived, all packed with patients rescued from the children's hospital: sick children, pregnant women, new mothers, infants. The scene after disembarking was beyond chaotic— a disaster, really. The wails of infants alone surpassed ninety decibels! And the cries of children searching for parents— piercing and deafening.

Sheng Qingru, despite her bitter past and twisted character, couldn't erase the maternal instinct deep within her genes. Clumsy but bold, she quickly learned to help several mothers whose families hadn't arrived, settling them in temporary beds, organizing their belongings.

Joanna was the calmest. Though she couldn't speak the language, she had raised Pablo into a skilled criminal within a dangerous drug cartel— strange as it sounded, it was true. Educating a boy surrounded from birth by drugs, prostitutes, and guns couldn't have been easy, yet dealing with unruly children was effortless for her. With just a hint of the authority she used to subdue Pablo, she didn’t even need to lift a finger— the wild children, unfamiliar with worry and destruction, cowered behind their mothers, and those without parents were gathered together as Joanna sang South American lullabies in her exotic accent.

The hardest hit was Yang Xiaohua. A young woman who had gone straight into the military after graduation, she was overwhelmed by the chaos of crying, running children. The sight of helpless little bundles, mouths wide open in wails, left her at a loss— she’d barely touched a baby in her life, let alone held one. She trailed the nurses, running errands.

She thought it would be easy to mimic the nurses, but when she realized how odd the job was, regret came too late.

“What’s wrong with the baby?”

“He coughed a bit last night, had loose stools this morning, oh, and he just spit up his milk.”

“Alright, don’t worry, let me check. Did he spit up much?”

“Not much, just a little.”

“Okay, I’ll prescribe some mild medicine, oral only. Nurse Yang? Nurse Yang? Stop daydreaming, get the medicine!”

“Huh? Oh, right.” Yang Xiaohua hurriedly grabbed an empty plastic bottle from a nearby bag, handed it to the nurse, who passed it to the woman holding a doll. The woman thanked them and followed instructions to her assigned shelter.

The bottle was empty, and the woman was holding a doll, not a baby.

Four women whose combined age was over a hundred played house with an obviously adult woman of about thirty— the scene was as bizarre as it gets.

If Yang Xiaohua had already gone through this mock consultation six or seven times, moving from goosebumps to numbness, it was not only strange, but like filming an R-rated horror movie.

Though the process was repeated often, it was quick— in less than ten minutes, all the women with dolls left. Yang Xiaohua breathed a bit easier, watching Wang Chen and Fang Qiang help carry mothers nearby, unsure what to say.

“Doesn’t it feel odd, what just happened?”

Yang Xiaohua turned at the voice. The nurse speaking looked no older than twenty-five or twenty-six, tired but calm.

“I think I understand why you're doing this— they're mothers who've lost children and gone mad, right?”

“Yes. The epidemic struck so quickly, many children didn’t survive. The mothers couldn't cope and lost their minds. We don’t have psychologists, and we can’t let them cause havoc in the clinic. This is the only way to get through each day. Today's group is small; there are more each morning, sometimes over twenty.”

“But won’t this worsen their condition?” Yang Xiaohua watched a woman with tangled hair sit on the ground, unashamed in front of the busy crowd, lifting her shirt to press her swollen breast against the doll’s mouth, singing lullabies as she squeezed, pale milk dripping onto the ground. She seemed completely oblivious, her face glowing with warmth and joy.

“Does it matter if it worsens? In times like these, every day is a blessing. Until we find treatment or a psychologist, letting these poor women live in their dreams is something.” The nurse sighed.

Glancing again at the wandering, sleepwalking women, Yang Xiaohua had to admit the nurse was right. She offered comfort, “At least it’s lively. It means the epidemic is easing— otherwise, there wouldn’t be so many surviving mothers and children.”

“Not to dampen your spirits, but haven’t you noticed there are almost no men among them?” The nurse grabbed a bottle of water, gulping it down, as if to steady herself.

Yang Xiaohua knew some questions were best left unasked, but she couldn’t help herself. “Why not?”

“I heard on the radio— these are patients and families evacuated from several hospitals in the SH quarantine zone. They set up a special area with the best protective equipment— hundreds of sterile tents and thousands of incubators, over twenty thousand people in total!”

“Does that mean...”

“Yes. When the epidemic hit, the male family members gathered all the uninfected mothers and children in the sterile tents and incubators. They stayed outside to clear threats— or fight, you know what I mean: suspected cases, deranged survivors, armed raiders, stray zombies, and... themselves. By the time our side could send help, only these women and children could be rescued. The rest...”

Yang Xiaohua covered her mouth in shock, unable to utter a word.

This was beyond tragedy or heroism.

It was a sacrifice of twenty thousand lives for the fragile hope of survival for the infants.

Thinking of hope, and glancing at the children hiding behind their mothers, Yang Xiaohua suddenly felt she couldn’t afford to despair. No matter what, as long as there’s life, there’s hope! Someday the clouds will part and the moon will shine!

Steeling herself, Yang Xiaohua spotted a woman with a child bundled in cloth, shivering through the crowd. The woman’s clothes were thin, and the child unmoving— likely another doll. With a sigh, Yang Xiaohua was about to approach when the nurse beside her grabbed her arm so tightly she cried out.

“Don’t go over— that woman’s not right!” Not only her own nurse, but another nearby, echoed the warning: “She’s off, definitely. You two keep an eye on her, I’ll get help!”

After four or five days of the epidemic, the nurses had seen everything. If they said something was wrong, it surely was. Yang Xiaohua didn’t argue. She spotted Wang Chen and Fang Qiang heading toward the emergency room, probably to check on Ma Tian’s surgery. She called out, “Wang Chen! Wang Chen!”

Her shout was drowned in the noise of the children.

Wang Chen was still distracted, planning for Hu Qianqian— gathering supplies, finding transport— so he didn’t hear. Fang Qiang, however, noticed Yang Xiaohua waving, quickly showing her his walkie-talkie.

Yang Xiaohua knocked her head, realizing she was flustered, and grabbed her walkie-talkie. “Brother Fang, at your six o’clock, do you see that slow-moving woman wandering around? Yes, the one in red pants, wearing only an undershirt, holding a bundle. The nurses say she’s suspicious! You and Wang Chen, check her, and be careful!”

The nurse added, “Careful! Especially with the child in the bundle! It might not be a child!”

Fang Qiang acknowledged, packed away the walkie-talkie, and turned to Wang Chen. “Don’t just stand there— hurry! Xiaohua says we need to check a suspicious woman. I’ll confront her, you stand behind in case she resists. Hey! Don’t space out— watch her child! Got it?”

Wang Chen snapped out of it, seeing Fang Qiang’s tense face, feeling he shouldn’t be so distracted. He nodded, “Okay, I understand.”

Fang Qiang didn’t know what Hu Qianqian meant to Wang Chen, mumbling, “Didn’t you just rest? Why so out of it? Don’t scare me. Ma Tian’s already down; don’t let yourself be next.”

Nodding, Wang Chen followed Fang Qiang toward the woman Yang Xiaohua had pointed out. Fang Qiang blocked her path, Wang Chen moved behind her, but she remained oblivious, muttering to herself unintelligibly.

Fang Qiang asked several questions, but she ignored him, draining his patience. He leaned closer, speaking softly, “Your baby’s so cute! So beautiful! Can I see your baby?”

Fang Qiang, lifelong bachelor, knew only these three compliments. Yet the woman responded, lifting her dirty face with a vacant smile, “Alright.”

She held the child in one hand and lifted the cloth covering its face with the other.

Fang Qiang was prepared— Xiaohua had warned him via radio— he might see a dead infant, a zombie baby, or worse. So, when the cloth revealed a toddler, face blue, tiny teeth bared, hissing like a viper, he merely felt his heart race, quickly waving for people to clear out, while his right hand reached under his arm for his gun.

Everyone who survived to reach the camp was alert; even the noise died down instantly. Some mothers hugged their children, covering their mouths.

The woman, oblivious to Fang Qiang’s actions and the crowd’s reaction, gently patted the zombie baby, murmuring, “Are you hungry? Hungry? Mommy will feed you, okay? Okay?”

She casually unfastened her nursing top, naturally presenting her breast.

If Fang Qiang wasn’t distracted by her action, he’d be lying, but he managed not to drool. Noticing her breast was unmarked, he realized the child must have died recently, only just zombified. Otherwise, she couldn’t have brought a zombie baby all the way here by bus.

If not for the warmth of her embrace, the child might not have turned so quickly... sigh.

He lamented inwardly, knowing well what happens when a living person is bitten by a zombie— this woman, bitten by her own child, was doomed. As she pressed her breast toward the zombie baby’s mouth, Fang Qiang had no time to think— shooting at such close range risked unpredictable consequences, so he thrust the gun’s barrel into the baby’s mouth instead.

In his haste, Fang Qiang didn’t control his strength— the black barrel jammed into the baby’s throat, tearing its mouth.

A wolfish scream tore from the woman as she watched her child. She grabbed Fang Qiang’s wrist, trying with desperate strength to pull the gun out.

Never underestimate a mother’s power for her child!

Fang Qiang, a grown man, held the gun with both hands but was no match— the woman pulled him aside with one hand.

Behind her, Wang Chen was still distracted, unable to shake the impact of Hu Qianqian. When the woman screamed, he finally focused, seeing Fang Qiang shoved aside as the woman prepared to flee. Wang Chen had no choice— he tackled her, pinning her to the ground.

“My child! Ah! My child!” the woman shrieked, struggling as the child was crushed under her. Even with Wang Chen’s weight, he couldn’t restrain her— dust flew everywhere.

As Fang Qiang regained his footing and rushed to help, pressing down her legs to stop her kicking, the woman suddenly went limp, motionless.

This was bad— had they killed her by accident? Wang Chen, still pinning her, quickly rolled her over and checked her pulse.

It was weak but steady.

Wang Chen sighed in relief, stood up, and Fang Qiang crouched beside the woman, calling for nurses and doctors to carry her away, searching for the zombie baby— it had to be destroyed to prevent further danger. No one wanted the military camp to become a zombie haven.

But— strange— it should be here! Fang Qiang had seen the baby crushed under them when Wang Chen tackled the woman— why couldn’t he find it?

Fang Qiang felt puzzled, Wang Chen even more so. Why were people staring at him in shock? Was there something on his face? Had he smeared mud when he fell? Why did his right arm feel so heavy— was it dislocated? But it still moved.

Confused, Wang Chen lifted his arm amid the collective gasp, only to find something dangling from it.

The zombie baby was latched onto his arm, its four tiny teeth sunk deep. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, but Wang Chen felt no pain, even as blood seeped from his torn sleeve, staining the zombie’s neck and dribbling down. It was horrifying, yet he felt little pain.

After his initial shock, Wang Chen relaxed— he carried the active zombie pathogen, and even bitten, he wouldn’t turn.

He detached the creature and threw it to the ground, watching the meat lump squirm, craving flesh more than its mother’s warmth. Hardening his heart, Wang Chen raised his boot above its skull.

He stomped.

Done— problem solved.

As his body relaxed, pain in his arm intensified. Wang Chen grimaced, about to ask a nurse to treat his wound, when he noticed people still staring at him in horror, some already raising guns, clearly hostile.

What was going on? That was a zombie baby! Everyone saw it, right? Killing it was necessary, better than shooting it. Or was it wrong to do it in front of so many children? Had he enraged them? Surely not.

Fang Qiang saw trouble brewing, moved to stand beside Wang Chen, and whispered, “Big trouble.”

“I know— mob anger is dangerous.”

“What now?”

“What else? It bit my arm. It was a zombie!”

“Damn!” Fang Qiang, for the first time, doubted if Wang Chen’s intelligence had dropped below zero. “You’re in deep trouble! You—!”

“I know, I killed that kid— no, I broke its neck.” Wang Chen, still absent-minded, now found himself surrounded by armed civilians, all eyes on him, too anxious to process what Fang Qiang said.

Fang Qiang was nervous, but not facing so many guns directly. Thinking quickly, he realized Wang Chen, under this scrutiny, couldn't think of an escape. Anyone facing dozens of guns would struggle to stay calm unless their nerves were steel. So Fang Qiang stepped in front, blocking the view, and shouted, “Everyone, don’t panic! We’re special agents from the security department! My colleague was bitten by a zombie, but he’s fine! He won’t turn!”

With Fang Qiang shielding him, Wang Chen finally came to his senses— yes, he’d been bitten, and his body’s pathogen meant he wouldn’t turn. But the civilians didn’t know that. If someone in their midst was bitten, especially with their children nearby, they’d want to eliminate the threat immediately!

No wonder they targeted only him!

Understanding this, Wang Chen explained, “Please, everyone, I won’t turn into a zombie!”

“Everyone who gets bitten says that,” someone in the crowd muttered.

“I’m different, really, I—” Wang Chen stopped short. How could he say he carried the active zombie pathogen and was immune to further infection? No one would believe him, and even if they did, they’d probably want to kill him immediately. Ordinary mindless zombies were terrifying enough; a sentient one would be even more so.

His hesitation only made things worse— the crowd tightened, voices rising.

“Don’t worry, mate, you just go first. We might be next, who knows?”

“Sorry, my child barely made it into the camp… My husband, he…”

“If you’re afraid to do it yourself, we’ll help. It won’t hurt!”

Seeing the situation spiral, Wang Chen could only shout, “I have a viral vaccine! Really!”

“Yeah, right. Who believes that?”

“A vaccine? You?”

“Can’t you let him finish? He just saved a woman! He risked himself to stop the virus from spreading!” Yang Xiaohua, fearing disaster, had already called Major Luan. Unable to get through the crowd, she jumped and shouted.

But the people ignored her.