Chapter 61

Monday brought new labor to the Monday Youth Apartment, and the living conditions of the property staff improved. Everyone currently had ample food, and order was maintained throughout the neighborhood, filled with a sense of calm.

But this day turned out to be the hardest one yet since the S City Temporary Emergency Command Center was established.

According to plan, today the supply convoy was to break through from the ring-road connector routes to the Fourth Ring Road.

In truth, things were fine on the main thoroughfares because at that time on Saturday night, there weren't that many vehicles or people on the main roads. Some zombies were simply sent flying by the armored vehicles, and the supply trucks rumbled right over them.

The zombies on the main roads were basically all original zombies—slow-moving and uncoordinated, no match for steel machinery.

The supply convoy advanced smoothly onto the Fourth Ring Road.

But there was a stadium off the Fourth Ring Road, and no one had thought to remember that there had been a concert there that Saturday night. Those who knew were either dead, or after a week had passed, simply couldn't recall.

If fully packed, that stadium could hold sixty thousand people.

Even if it wasn't sold out, an estimated forty to fifty thousand had been there.

When the supply convoy rolled over the original zombies and pushed this far, a staggering number of second-generation zombies, roused by the noise, surged in like a tide.

Second-generation zombies were far stronger and faster than the originals, and in broad daylight with plenty of sun, their vision was perfectly fine.

Most critically, there were just too many of them!

No one had ever seen this many second-generation zombies!

The first echelon, leading the way at the front, was the one that ran into this swarm that looked like a colony of ants.

Because it was the spearhead clearing the path, the first echelon had a full ten armored vehicles. Its armed personnel were also double that of the vehicles behind.

But the second-generation zombies were just too numerous!

While the original zombies were still shambling along, the second-generation zombies were already bearing down like a beast tide.

The soldiers opened fire, but zombies could only be "killed" with a headshot. Bullets that struck the body merely slowed them down.

And the sheer numbers of second-generation zombies were overwhelming.

The drivers roared and floored the accelerator, trying to blast through, only to plunge into a sea of zombies.

The second-generation zombies were leaping! One after another! Leaping in groups!

They grabbed onto the truck railings! Jumped onto the hoods! Snatched at the side mirrors and windshield wipers!

Soldiers who had leaned out the windows to fire were yanked out by force. Two zombies carried one of them, and together they tumbled into the crowd of undead.

The screams lasted only a few moments before they cut off abruptly, vanishing.

The rest climbed in through the windows.

The steering wheel went dead! The heavy-laden vehicle veered off its lane and crashed into the greenery alongside the road!

Blood splattered across the glass—red, thick, smeared—until nothing inside could be seen anymore.

People in the vehicles behind shouted: "Close the windows! Close the windows!"

The fighters ducked back into the cabs and slammed the windows shut.

But countless second-generation zombies swarmed over the outside of the cab, staring at the humans through the glass with pitch-black eyes, then raised their fists.

Punch after punch. The zombies had enormous strength and felt no pain, and every punch came without pause.

Glass that an ordinary person couldn't smash even with a hammer began to show web-like cracks.

"The glass is breaking! The glass is breaking!!!"

"AAAAAHHHHHHH—"

Roars and screams twisted together.

This was what Vice Mayor Zheng heard from the liaison equipment in the monitoring hall.

On the wall of screens, every angle showed how the supply convoy was sinking into that zombie tide.

There were too many second-generation zombies—the slow-moving originals couldn't even get a single bite.

They couldn't even squeeze in.

Of the ten armored vehicles, only four escaped with their lives.

Even if the second-generation zombies were strong, they couldn't punch through the armor plating.

But too many of them crawled under the vehicles.

Arms and legs got wedged into the gaps of the tires and tracks. One arm, one leg couldn't stop the machinery. But ten arms and ten legs? Twenty arms and twenty legs?

Zombies felt no pain; as long as their heads remained intact, their bodies kept moving.

Countless limbs and bones lodged themselves into the tires and tracks, freezing the armored vehicles in place.

More zombies flooded in.

Seen from above, it was like disciplined worker ants hauling vast prey.

Those inside suddenly felt the center of gravity shift.

"What's happening!"

"It's tipping! It's tipping!"

With a thunderous crash, the worker ants flipped one prey after another onto their sides...

The four that had made it out wanted to turn back to rescue the rest, but the commander's voice came through the communicator: "Retreat! Retreat immediately!"

The drivers gritted their teeth and turned around.

Their comrades cried out: "They've opened the hatches!"

From the overturned armored vehicles, the hatches swung open. The soldiers, rifles raised, charged out screaming, "I'll take you bastards with me!"

The zombies, unafraid of bullets, surged forward and swallowed them whole.

On the monitors in the temporary command center, the soldiers were no longer visible—only layer upon layer of second-generation zombies piling on for a taste of flesh.

Vice Mayor Zheng closed his eyes in agony: "How could this happen? How could this happen?"

They had already used the road cameras to check the route!

His secretary explained: "When we scouted the route, it was still night, very quiet. Nothing around had been disturbed..."

So the massive horde hadn't moved significantly. The few aimless wanderers that strolled out had been nothing.

It wasn't until the rumbling convoy disturbed the zombies in the stadium.

Vice Mayor Zheng wiped his face: "Scout a new viable route. The supply convoy will detour! Mark the stadium zone as a red high-risk area, and announce it citywide!"

The secretary: "Yes, sir."

"Sir! The stadium zombie horde is beginning to spread!"

Everyone turned to look.

The four armored vehicles that hadn't been lost had already retreated at full speed. With no living flesh left on the scene, the zombies' movements slowed suddenly, and they began wandering aimlessly.

They had no single direction—tens of thousands of them naturally fanned out in every direction, drifting slowly...

The faces of everyone in the monitoring hall were pale.

But what could they do? Tell residents to evacuate?

If the residents could freely come downstairs and move about, they wouldn't have been trapped in their neighborhoods, even locked inside their buildings.

Just as Jiang Cheng and Song Jingshuo had realized yesterday while retrieving supplies on their way back—in a disaster like this, urban residents lacking wilderness survival skills could neither flee nor had anywhere to flee.

The only option was to hold their ground!

Hold the neighborhood!

Hold the building!

Or at the very least, hold the door to their own home and keep the zombies from barging in!

A suffocating atmosphere filled the hall.

On the screens, the soldiers' remains were chewed beyond recognition, just like the second-generation zombies.

The people in the hall knew that after a while, these seemingly "dead" people would begin to mutate.

It wasn't just the living who, after being wounded, turned into second-generation zombies. Some of the "corpses" that appeared to have died from zombie attacks—as long as their heads were intact and their necks not severed—would also mutate after a period of time.

The original zombies were people in a healthy state who had been infected through unknown means and then mutated, with their bodies still in complete condition.

Many second-generation zombies only mutated after being attacked and appearing to be in a death-like state, so many of them were disfigured and covered in blood and gore.

The direct visual impact was eerie, sinister, and nauseating, putting even greater psychological pressure on people.

The monitoring hall was silent and tense. The technical staff from the transportation department were on edge, working feverishly to plan new detour routes.

"Bigger, make it bigger," one staff member said in a low voice to another.

This staff member was adjusting the red zone on the map, trying to designate the area around the stadium as a high-danger red zone.

But her colleague reminded her that the red zone needed to be drawn even larger, because the zombie horde emerging from the stadium was slowly spreading. The nearby residential neighborhoods would all be affected.

This area was now being detoured around by the supply convoys, and residents in the surrounding blocks could no longer receive relief supplies.

What's more, countless zombies were slowly approaching their homes.

The staff member mapping out the route held back tears as she expanded the red zone even further.

At this moment, it was only 7:39 on Monday morning.

Jiang Cheng and Song Jingshuo were jogging in the courtyard of their residential complex.

Mo Li found a spot to bask in the sun and absorb energy.

Li Jiangbing still hadn't gotten out of bed.

Su Yu and He Tian had agreed to walk their dogs together.

Those who could wake up early were all practicing running, because everyone knew second-generation zombies were fast—if you couldn't fight them off, you had to outrun them.

You didn't need to outrun the second-generation zombies; you just needed to outrun other living people.

Around this time, Guo Jun and his group, who were buying supplies, were still dawdling in their dormitory, hesitating: "So what do we do?"

"Go to the Youth Apartment?"

"Yeah, they're the most reliable. If they're willing to take us in, then we can relax."

"But will they even take us in?"

Plenty of elderly folks in Jixiang Jiayuan had also gotten up early and wandered over to Jixiang West Street.

They couldn't enter the Youth Apartment—security was strict, and the gates were usually locked. To get in, you needed a valid reason and had to undergo a physical examination.

But that didn't stop the old folks from grabbing the iron railings and peering inside: "Whoa, so many people out running."

A complex filled with young, able-bodied fighters—they could even loot more supplies than others. It was something to envy.

And so that day passed fairly peacefully for these two complexes that had managed to build their own "green zones" through sheer effort.

The Youth Apartment had taken in new labor, and the living conditions for the property management staff improved—there was even a bit of festive cheer in the air.

Master Luo and his wife moved into their new quarters and tried on clothes left behind by the original owners.

After Aunt Pan complimented Master Luo on looking "fashionable," she checked the time: "Time to watch the news."

Now, everyone made a point to watch the news on schedule.

[The area within a three-kilometer radius of Rainbow Stadium is designated as a red high-danger zone. Strictly no approaching. I repeat, strictly no approaching.]

[Other supply drop points along the Fourth Ring Road have been successfully deployed.]

[Supplies have reached residents.]

Footage of "residents picking up supplies" was shown—and every clip was shorter than yesterday's Fifth Ring Road clips. Jiang Cheng noticed it at a glance.

Soon after, Song Jingshuo called her.

Song Jingshuo sat on his sofa and waited for the call to connect.

He had gotten into the habit of calling Jiang Cheng whenever something came up. Talking things through with her gave him a sense of reassurance, like having a solid foundation beneath his feet.

The call connected. No pleasantries or greetings needed. Song Jingshuo said, "Did you notice?"

Of course Jiang Cheng had noticed: "The fighting must have been intense."

Every clip was cut extremely short, precisely because the next second, a brawl was about to break out. That didn't align with the current temporary emergency command center's guiding principles—it would only sow discord and corrupt morale. So they cut all of it out, broadcasting only the few seconds when the frontmost residents grabbed their supplies before the fighting broke out.

"Nothing we can do," Jiang Cheng sighed. "The population density along the Fourth Ring Road is way higher than here."

Song Jingshuo couldn't even manage a sigh. "My apartment is on the Fourth Ring Road."

A spacious three-bedroom place, 180 square meters. He lived there alone—roomy. Right next to a city forest park, with floor-to-ceiling windows that opened up to an unobstructed view—a proper view unit.

A snicker came through the phone. She opened her mouth to say something, but just as she formed the first syllable, the call suddenly dropped.

Song Jingshuo: "?"

He dialed her again—

[The number you have dialed is no longer in service.]