Each Has Its Merits and Drawbacks, Part 1

The journey back passed without incident. In the silence of the group, the steep, imposing peaks of the Taihang Mountains gradually faded into the horizon. The only difference from the trip out was that there were clearly more wandering figures on the highways and provincial roads. This showed that the chill of early autumn could effectively restrain the virus from spreading through the dead, but it could not bring it to a complete halt. As time went on, unless the climate here could turn as bitterly cold as the regions beyond the pass, with temperatures often dropping to minus thirty degrees Celsius, the number of zombies would increase many times over. Even though the radio kept insisting that the death toll had fallen month over month and year over year, that was nothing more than number games. After all, with so many people dying in such a short time, perhaps not every corpse could be transformed into a zombie, but there would surely be over a hundred million of them.

The mere thought of a hundred million was enough to make one lose all will to live.

Fortunately, anyone who thought that way had either already died or was about to, so the rest still struggled to survive until tomorrow. Among those remaining, Team Zero Eight was naturally one of the rare lucky few holding an excellent hand.

By the time they returned to the substation, it was just past three in the afternoon. The warm autumn sun, combined with the shimmering lake, created a scene so pleasant that it was almost hard to get used to. In particular, after a night as a bridegroom, Fang Qiang was brimming with energy. He ran to a relatively safe corner by the reservoir and spent half the afternoon there, catching a few wild fish and making a pot of fragrant fish soup. The aroma drifted all around the substation kitchen, making mouths water. Even Joanna, who had grown sick of eating fish on the deserted island, could not resist drinking two bowls. If they had not needed to leave some for Wang Chen and the others, there probably would not have been a drop left.

So, after Wang Chen settled the newly arrived people in, he simply carried a half-bucket of fish soup and the remaining unleavened cakes up to the terrace, called over the team members who had stayed behind, along with Ren Wanrong, and talked while they ate.

The topic was simple: how to view the unofficial mission that lay ahead.

Still newly rescued, Ren Wanrong was somewhat surprised by Wang Chen’s arrangement. He had assumed that given Wang Chen’s attitude toward him in the armored vehicle, he certainly would not be brought into Team Zero Eight’s tactical structure. He had never imagined that once he got out of the vehicle, the situation would turn a full one hundred and eighty degrees, and he would be invited straight into the midday briefing.

They had barely eaten a few mouthfuls of fish soup and unleavened cake before Wang Chen laid out his concerns. With Ren Wanrong sitting there as a living example, even Pablo, whose appetite was the best of them all, found it hard to swallow after the Chinese was translated into English and then into Spanish.

No one would deny Wang Chen’s concerns. Fang Qiang, looking remorseful, slapped his own forehead. He had overlooked something so simple. It was simply unforgivable.

Of course, Wang Chen had no intention of blaming Brother Fang. None of the companions here were professionally trained special operatives. They had never attended formal training, special training, or any other kind of training. Even Wang Chen’s own marksmanship, accurate enough to guarantee a hit with every shot, had only been honed through crash training. How could he demand more from his comrades?

Ren Wanrong, however, felt a touch of emotion. He had indeed been judging others by the narrow measure of his own petty heart. Perhaps after being set up and attacked at the museum, he had become a little paranoid? These team members, who carried the identity of special operatives yet looked more like ordinary people, had been willing to risk a round trip of more than a hundred kilometers just for an informal plea for help. How could he doubt their character?

"Well, let me say a few words," Ren Wanrong said. "I’m only a beat cop, but before I changed careers, I once dreamed of becoming a special forces soldier. Because of some comrades I’ve known, I’ve learned a fair bit about this side of things."

After years of dealing with neighborhood disputes, Ren Wanrong’s tongue had been thoroughly sharpened. He chose his words with care, drew everyone’s attention, and went on directly: "I don’t know you all very well, but I can tell that none of us has had systematic special-operations training. At most, we have some military experience. Truth be told, I’ve never actually done this kind of work myself. I’ve only heard bits and pieces about it. Most of the jobs assigned by higher-ups rarely go beyond what people can handle. No one wants a mission to fail. If that happens, no one from top to bottom will get a happy ending. Of course, given the special circumstances now, an unofficial mission issued to a newly joined team like ours, well, it probably won’t be too outrageous. After all, if there are heavy casualties and the formal mission is affected, the blame can be pushed onto us. And the person who issued the unofficial mission and caused those casualties would not get off lightly either. In other words, when they sent the email to you, they would have considered the consequences as well. For that reason alone, I’m actually quite grateful to the old comrade who sent it."

"So you mean even unofficial missions are within our reach?" Wang Chen did not mind Ren Wanrong’s repeated use of "we." Having invited him to this meeting already showed his stance. After a moment’s thought, he added, "Am I worrying too much?"

"Yes, you could put it that way. On the other hand, if a mission is simply too difficult, of course it can be abandoned. Even formal missions can be coordinated with higher command, let alone unofficial ones." Ren Wanrong continued, "Of course, it’s possible that the mission materials are incomplete or even wrong for all kinds of reasons. In the end, whether we’re willing to take these jobs on still depends on what we do ourselves. As for casualties caused by an unofficial mission... no one will blame you. At the very least, you tried."

All right, it had to be admitted: Ren Wanrong truly lived up to his background as a beat cop. His words were watertight, and to analyze matters to this extent was no easy feat. He had at least seventy percent of the skill of the neighborhood committee aunties.

The atmosphere eased at once. Wang Chen naturally did not want the discussion to go cold, so he picked up the thread. "Actually, on the way back I thought a lot. I’ll skip the empty formalities. After finding ourselves a place to stay, I’ve become a bit lax, and that’s wrong. Being able to keep in touch with our superiors does not mean we’re safe. If we want to live in the substation for the long term and in safety, there’s still so much we need to do. Simply completing the missions from above definitely isn’t enough."

"That’s right," Fang Qiang said, nodding along. "We need to prepare for a long fight. Whether you call it making preparations before the storm or keeping several escape routes open, in any case, nobody knows what the future will look like. We can’t just coast along and wait to die."

After that, the focus of the discussion shifted to how the substation should be developed, covering energy, food, and security in every aspect.

Ma Tian had little interest in any of it. He always felt things were not nearly so serious. Indeed, since reaching shore, there had been far more dead than living, but the pressure to survive did not seem all that great. Take food, clothing, shelter, and transportation, for instance: convenience stores, supermarkets, and tiny shops were everywhere; clothes and bedding could be found almost anywhere; apart from the difficulty of finding a truly safe place to live, cars could be driven simply by forcing the door open and connecting the battery, and if luck was on your side, you might even find one with the key still in it. Overall, so long as one was not foolish enough to be blocked in by zombies with no way out, life was practically effortless, as if food and clothing were simply handed to you.