Chapter 65

He added, “Lekang Homeland might be finished.”

“There are too many zombies in their complex.”

“Someone couldn’t take it anymore and hanged themselves.”

“I don’t know much more about what’s happening in there. The people I knew are already dead.”

“Renxin Hospital has become a zombie nest too. Stay away from there.”

Jiang Cheng now understood why none of this information could be found online.

When things had reached this point, who would still be browsing the internet?

The internet wasn’t as widespread as people imagined, nor was it all that useful. It was still a decent tool for the people in Youth Apartment, but for everyone else, it served little purpose.

In the end, Zhou Wang said, “Our complex is actually doing pretty well.”

Then he added, “But do you realize how outrageous the current state of your complex is?”

There was enough food, the property management was still functioning, and no serious incidents had occurred.

Yet it seemed that these young people had no idea how abnormal their complex’s situation was under the current circumstances.

On the way back, everyone noticed Jiang Cheng’s silence.

Jiang Cheng was rarely this quiet. Most of the time, she appeared utterly composed. That composure gave people a sense of reliability and safety, making them trust her.

Li Jiangbing was no less familiar with her than Song Jingshuo. In fact, he had become one of Jiang Cheng’s “people” even earlier than Song Jingshuo had.

He was also the first one who couldn’t hold back any longer. He asked, “Jiang Cheng... you’ve got something on your mind, don’t you? Why don’t you tell us?”

Everyone pricked up their ears. Song Jingshuo also stopped brooding and turned to look at Jiang Cheng. The more he had thought about things along the way, the heavier his heart had felt. He, too, wanted to know what Jiang Cheng was thinking.

Jiang Cheng stopped and looked up at the clear blue sky. After taking a deep breath, she turned around.

“Then I’ll tell you...”

“If Lekang Homeland falls completely, it’ll be a disaster. It will create a large number of second-generation zombies. If something happens and those zombies are roused, drawn out, and allowed to spread, it’ll be disastrous for the entire Technology New District—especially this area of ours.”

“Our complexes are all so close to one another. To put it plainly, when one suffers, all suffer.”

“The fences around our complexes won’t be able to stop a large number of second-generation zombies.”

Second-generation zombies possessed tremendous physical strength. Even if they couldn’t clear a fence in a single leap, they could use the impact to climb over it with astonishing speed—far more nimbly than any human.

A small number of second-generation zombies wasn’t a problem. As long as there were enough people, they weren’t frightening. Because the zombies were obsessed with living flesh, their targets were clear and their movements could be predicted. With enough manpower, people could coordinate and kill them relatively easily.

But large numbers were another matter. Human skin could be ruined by even the tiniest cut that drew blood.

Song Jingshuo said gravely, “Jiang Cheng, tell us what you’re thinking. Don’t hold back.”

Jiang Cheng glanced at him.

“Actually, we all understand that instead of sitting around waiting for rescue, everyone in this area—I mean all the residents nearby—would be better off joining forces to eliminate the zombies.”

“Only after we clear out all the zombies can we return to a truly normal life.”

Over the past few days, everyone had noticed that the maps shown in the news broadcasts had begun to display scattered little green dots—small areas of safety. In the Technology New District, those areas were Youth Apartment and Jixiang Garden.

Compared with the vast expanses of yellow covering the map, these green dots were tiny and few.

But sparks could start a prairie fire. If they caught, perhaps they could spread across the entire wilderness.

“But...”

“Everyone also knows that even in our complex, given our current situation and the fact that supplies aren’t scarce, if I proposed that people leave the complex to fight zombies, how many would actually be willing to go? How many would follow?”

The six men fell silent.

This proposal was different from all their previous collective actions. Even if everyone understood that its ultimate goal was the right one, it was not like their earlier operations, which had directly involved the interests of Youth Apartment—directly eliminating danger, directly obtaining supplies, or directly creating a comfortable living environment and social order.

This proposal was too grand, too distant, and not immediate enough.

Abandoning the safety and stability they enjoyed and risking their lives to go outside and fight zombies demanded an extraordinary degree of moral courage and fighting spirit.

“Even if some people were passionate enough to volunteer, how would we convince Jixiang Garden to join us?”

“They’re so close by. Why should we be the ones doing the hard work, serving as cannon fodder and spearhead? Even I can’t answer that question.”

“If we can’t answer it, we can’t give everyone enough motivation.”

“We simply won’t be able to get everyone to charge out with us.”

Nie Kuizhang, the building head of Building Three, looked from one person to the next.

Jiang Cheng called him out directly. “Nie Kuizhang, you have something to say, don’t you?”

“That’s exactly it.” Nie Kuizhang boldly spoke his mind. “Why should we?”

Look at them: all six building heads were exceptionally capable, proactive, and even passionate people. Yet there was still someone among them who had been struck by Jiang Cheng’s words and shared precisely that kind of thinking.

Now that Nie Kuizhang had said it aloud, he wasn’t afraid anymore. Crossing his arms, he said, “I’m not afraid of dying. Everyone knows that. If we were doing this for our own complex, Jiang Cheng, you could tell me to charge, and I wouldn’t hesitate.”

“But if all the other complexes are lying low indoors and you want me to charge out there for their sake, then no. Why should I?”

The six building heads came from different professions and had different personalities, but not one of them was a coward. A coward couldn’t serve as a building head. If you didn’t lead from the front, the people in your building wouldn’t be willing to follow you.

This wasn’t an appointed position to begin with. The residents had elected them, and if they decided you weren’t up to the job, they could choose someone else.

Jiang Cheng narrowed her eyes at Nie Kuizhang. It was actually useful to have someone among her own people who thought this way. She had been wanting to ask.

“What kind of situation would make you willing to charge out? I’d like to know. I’m asking seriously.”

Nie Kuizhang waved his hand. “None. There’s no situation that would.”

Jiang Cheng showed no emotion. She merely nodded and was about to end the topic when another building head suddenly cut in.

“If the country called on us, I’d be willing.”

Jiang Cheng’s gaze snapped toward him.

The building head continued, “But if it’s just our complex getting carried away by its own enthusiasm, then I agree with Kuizhang. Why should we? It’s too unfair.”

The country?

Jiang Cheng asked, “What if the country called on us, but we were the only ones who responded, while the people in the other complexes still hid indoors?”

“Then that’s their business,” the building head said. “As long as the country calls, I’ll do it. Whether anyone else does it has nothing to do with me.”

Li Jiangbing immediately chimed in. “Right. I’ll do it too!”

Jiang Cheng was finally a little surprised to hear that from Li Jiangbing.

Li Jiangbing was a somewhat petty, street-smart, kindhearted, flawed common man who liked taking small advantages whenever he could. She hadn’t expected him to say something like that.

It was nobler than she would ever have imagined.

The other two building heads also said, “If the country calls on us, we’ll do it too.”

Finally, when Jiang Cheng’s gaze fell on Song Jingshuo, this obvious, polished self-interested elite unexpectedly nodded as well.

“I’m in.”

His tone was firm.

Even Li Jiangbing had straightened his chest when he said he would do it.

Did the word “country” carry such enormous power to rally the hearts of these native-born people?

Jiang Cheng couldn’t quite understand.

Because she was not a native of this world. She was a transmigrator from another universe.

Compared with “the nation,” she preferred the term “government.” It was much easier to understand—a group of people who did things, that was all.

But what exactly was “the nation,” and what did it mean to the natives? That was an unfamiliar concept to Jiang Cheng.

Of course, she still possessed all of Jiang Cheng’s memories. All the patriotic education she had received since childhood was still there.

But ever since her individual consciousness awakened for the second time last Sunday at noon, she had completely separated herself from “Jiang Cheng” within her mind.

Jiang Cheng’s consciousness now belonged entirely to her. All of “Jiang Cheng’s” memories and perceptions had been sealed away, like exhibits behind the glass cases of a museum: visible and clear, yet completely isolated.

At this point, even Nie Kuizhang awkwardly added, “Fine, then. If all of you are doing it, I’ll do it too.”

Nie Kuizhang had harassed He Tian. Compared with the others, he was a man with obvious moral flaws. And just now, he had clearly been unwilling. Even now, he still wasn’t particularly willing. But when everyone else was basking in the radiance of “the nation,” he seemed afraid to let himself fall behind.

“The nation” possessed more than just the power to rally people.

It also possessed the power to intimidate.

That power of intimidation naturally came from the military—or, as it could also be called, the armed forces.

In Jiang Cheng’s eyes, the military was simply another group of people: people who wielded power.

But in the minds of the natives of this world, they seemed to view the group called “the government” and the group called “the military” as a single organic entity.

No—included in that entity were the natives themselves. They considered themselves part of this organic whole as well.

The government, the military, and the natives together formed what they called “the nation.”

Jiang Cheng began to take an interest in “the nation.”

But this was not the right time. She had no intention of breaking through that layer of glass and touching “Jiang Cheng’s” perceptions just yet.

“So,” she said thoughtfully, “when all is said and done, our ability to rally people just isn’t strong enough?”

Li Jiangbing rubbed his crew cut. “We’re ordinary working-class people, after all.”

“Then if it were ‘the nation’ calling on them, would people from the other residential compounds respond?” she asked curiously. “Or would it just be you few getting carried away by patriotic fervor?”

Li Jiangbing gave a dry laugh. “Jiang Cheng, why do you sound like you never received any patriotic education? Do you really need to ask? Even if not everyone, there would definitely be plenty of Chinese people with enough backbone to answer the call.”

Jiang Cheng asked, “Then why doesn’t ‘the nation’ call on them?”

Her question sounded rather strange.

Song Jingshuo said, “The nation would obviously mobilize the military first. As long as the military is still around, there’s no need to mobilize the public. After all, this is something that could cost people their lives.”

He continued, “Isn’t the nation’s foremost responsibility to protect its people?”

[In a high-risk situation, pushing civilians forward as cannon fodder in order to preserve one’s own armed forces.]

Another wisp of such an awareness drifted through the crack in her mind. Jiang Cheng quickly suppressed it.

Because Song Jingshuo had said it with such complete certainty.

The natives all took it for granted that protecting civilians was the nation’s highest priority.

Ever since Jiang Cheng became aware that she was a transmigrator, she had already lived in this world for nearly three weeks. During those two and a half weeks, her life had been intensely concrete.

The first week had been an ordinary life of work and routine, dealing with colleagues, business partners, and clients.

The second week had plunged her into survival mode, fighting zombies. Even then, she had still been dealing with concrete individuals, or, at most, larger groups organized around residential compounds.

She had fit in perfectly throughout those two weeks.

But once the subject began to rise to the level of “the nation,” a tremendous gap emerged between the thoughts and perceptions of the transmigrator and those of the native residents.