061 Each with Their Own Scheme - 1

The autumn wind grew chill, the mountains were carpeted with yellow leaves. South of the Yellow River, the grass remained lush and green, but beyond the passes, a biting cold began to spread. The animals had long since prepared for hibernation; some little creatures had even stockpiled dry grass and seeds in anticipation of the first snowfall. Yet this winter seemed far from peaceful. Animals that normally came into heat only in spring were behaving oddly, chasing each other joyfully, their howls echoing through the night, heedless of the encroaching winter.

Fortunately, the figures lingering in the mountains and fields moved more sluggishly in the dropping temperatures, posing little threat to the excited animals. Otherwise, it wouldn’t just be the high mortality risk of giving birth in winter; the bloodthirsty corpses alone would be enough to turn these oblivious creatures into wandering spirits.

At the Forward Base northwest of Shenyang, the central ventilation system had been activated to raise the internal temperature. With the new compact nuclear power units, energy supply was no longer a concern. Even running at full capacity, a single unit could power the entire base for thirty years, not to mention its components were designed to last a century. Provided no leaks occurred, there was no need to worry about energy shortages within the base.

With stable energy, construction at the Forward Base proceeded with urgency and order, yet manpower steadily dwindled. This was by design—Tu Hongye had insisted on replacing as much human labor as possible with automated or remotely controlled machinery. After all, this was one of the few comprehensive national bases dedicated to dissecting, analyzing, and researching zombie pathogens and their derivatives. Fewer personnel meant smaller losses should a viral leak occur, whether in lives or equipment. Tu Hongye did not believe, given the current national conditions, that a new base could be constructed flawlessly.

Maintaining the existing few research bases was already pushing the limits of national resources.

Here, “resources” did not refer to energy, money, or ordinary supplies, but to scientists, precision instruments, and specially synthesized medicines. Even worldwide, before the industrial and pharmaceutical manufacturing systems were fully restored, many advanced materials were scarce and precious.

Drug research was never swift, yet the emergence of artificially modified viruses offered researchers a glimmer of hope. Having obtained a series of natural and engineered variants of the zombie pathogen—transformed liver viruses, cold viruses, rabies viruses, and other genetically altered forms—careful comparative studies and rigorous verification led Tu Hongye to announce that the original RNA characteristics of the zombie pathogen could be inferred from these samples. This breakthrough paved the way for developing targeted immunological drugs.

In Tu Hongye’s words, “Such a straightforward task could be handed to any professor with a couple of graduate students in a university lab over two months, and they’d deliver it perfectly.”

Sometimes, irony cuts deep. Billions of lives were sacrificed worldwide to preserve a few hundred million survivors. If social order had held, and the number of bloodthirsty zombies continued to dwindle daily, this would be cause for universal celebration.

Indeed, cause for joy and relief.

Admittedly, going from vaccine development to mass production would still take months, but this was now certain. Hence, countries like China, the United States, Russia, and others capable of public announcements all seemed to revive overnight, proclaiming that this devastating pandemic would be eradicated within six months to a year. The remaining task would be to eliminate the “patients infected by the plague who could not die naturally”—a long, official term that boiled down simply to “zombies.”

Timetables for restoring social order had been established and broadcast repeatedly across various frequencies. As a result, the number of rioters in many regions declined significantly. Many chose to selectively forget their past deeds; without witnesses or evidence, the unfortunate living who died would be recorded as plague victims, their names likely inscribed on memorials for those lost to the epidemic.

Another minor but widespread detail was the much-maligned new policy endorsed by the government, guaranteeing the safety of newly established quarantine zones—a policy that the entire Squad Zero had been cursing from top to bottom.

But these were trivialities.

In short, all was well and good.

With vaccine research promising imminent completion, the superficial narrative was that all nations had simultaneously ceased research on improved amoebic brain-eating parasites. This artificially modified brain-eating amoeba was said to be relatively safe—but to what extent, no one could be completely sure. Even the United States, which claimed success in this research, repeatedly emphasized that the project was sealed. After all, humanity had barely survived the zombie pandemic; a sudden outbreak of a mutated amoebic brain parasite could trigger governments from top to bottom to seek collective suicide in remorse, or nuclear powers to launch global annihilation.

Humanity simply could not endure another such catastrophic epidemic, even a similar one.

Privately, however, no one was naive. Nations capable of research had not halted their efforts. Just as everyone knew a nuclear war would destroy the world, the stockpiles of nuclear warheads remained intact.

Of course, with previously busy workloads suddenly reduced by more than half, Tu Hongye found a welcome respite. The somber atmosphere in the Forward Base, heavy with grief over lost comrades and relatives, also lightened somewhat. To further alleviate psychological pressure within the base, Tu Hongye introduced a new activity:

Zombie shooting.

Simply put, it was a way to provide personnel with a steady outlet for their frustrations.

Some idealists might argue that killing zombies with firearms was cruel—that the undead deserved a dignified and peaceful death. But living in this world overrun by bloodthirsty corpses, one profoundly understood that putting these restless dead to rest as quickly as possible was not cruelty—it was the greatest mercy.

The popularity of this activity exceeded Tu Hongye’s expectations. Initially, only one side of the base’s wall was opened for shooting at wandering zombies outside. Within days, all four walls bore scattered figures engaged in target practice. Even Mai Rujing, typically indifferent to anything beyond machinery, joined in. Small and unsteady with a gun, she modified a CS/LR3 sniper rifle herself and teamed up with Zhao Ying as her spotter. The duo quickly improved from missing every shot to hitting their marks with astonishing accuracy. They were arguably the fastest-improving sniper team in the world.

Of course, this progress would not have been possible without the semi-balloon aerial shooting calibration drones overhead, nor the homemade ballistic parameter correction computers resting by their sides.