Chapter Forty-Seven: The Army at the Gates

When the base was secure, the most terrifying threats always came from outside: evolved beasts, mutated insects, dangerous creatures so powerful that those inside the base dared not venture out. Within the base, people behaved with utmost obedience, never expressing the slightest dissatisfaction.

Yet, at the base's most perilous moments, it was humanity itself that proved most fearsome. The Southern Base, battered by two bloody lessons, had learned to be cautious. During the first zombie tide, fewer than three hundred soldiers fell in battle, but internal riots claimed nearly fifteen hundred soldiers. Disgruntled former elites, unwilling to accept others rising above them, incited unrest, binding and torturing unsuspecting soldiers. Ordinary people suffered over ten thousand casualties in the chaos.

The second time, as evolved beasts besieged the base, evolved civilians rebelled. Soldiers, evolved beings, and regular folk—all told, nearly thirty thousand died, plunging the base into utter disorder. Units of different numbers, organizations of evolved individuals, unarmed civilians—all scrambled and fought for food, creating absolute mayhem. An investigation later revealed that some evolved beings, denied official recognition and fair treatment, had conspired to ignite the conflict.

After two bouts of internal strife, the Southern Base had grown far more prudent. Whenever trouble arose, ordinary people were ordered to stay home—any breach was treated as a crime against the base, punishable by death if severe. Unregistered evolved beings were consigned to temporary combat units, managed by a company of registered evolved soldiers, stationed at the frontlines: advance and earn merit, retreat and perish. Even though they knew they were mere cannon fodder, none dared complain, for they had learned the consequences.

“Sir, everyone is in position. The zombie horde is still twenty li from the base and expected to arrive by nightfall,” a soldier entered the conference room, addressing the base’s senior staff.

“Good. You may go. Tell the sentries to stay alert,” replied an elderly man in a general’s uniform, eyes narrowed as he surveyed the assembly. He was the highest commander here, once a division commander in the Southern Group Army.

“Why not use our ultimate weapons to obliterate them?” asked a young man, whose presence signaled considerable status.

“How long has it been since the apocalypse began? Every time a beast appears, you want to deploy a killer weapon. But the future stretches far ahead. If we use our trump cards now, what will we do later? As beasts and insects continue to evolve, we may face battles with tens of millions. Would you be able to withstand that? Even if you stood there killing, how many could you slay alone?” The middle-aged, heavyset man sitting to the general’s left spoke harshly.

If the young man’s grandfather weren’t the highest commander at another top-tier base, with considerable influence here, he would never have had a seat at this table. The heavyset man grumbled inwardly but would not voice such complaints; after all, the young man’s backing surpassed even the Southern Base’s commander’s, and he was the old general’s comrade-in-arms.

“I suppose you’re right,” the young man sighed, settling back. He wasn’t a wastrel; he had a good head on his shoulders, but each major battle cost him many subordinates. One day he might find himself alone, and then, no matter how powerful his grandfather was thousands of miles away, what would it matter? Perhaps the base’s commander would still respect old ties, but what about the others?

While the meeting at the base continued, discussing all possible contingencies, Ma Yi wandered contentedly. Li Li fed him freshly washed fruit from her backpack as they enjoyed scenery different from the north. The world had become a kind of relic, plants growing wildly, gradually erasing traces of humanity. Lush greenery spread everywhere, the sky was a brilliant blue, and the air was so fresh that each breath brought a rush of oxygen, soothing and calming.

The weather remained a bit hot, unmanaged fields and trees growing rampant in the apocalypse. Former landscaping trees now half a meter thick, the once-smooth concrete roads cracked, filled by meter-high weeds that formed a natural maze. Vines climbed buildings, transforming cold concrete cities into botanical paradises.

He recalled a video describing how, after humanity’s disappearance, it would take less than a year—perhaps due to the apocalypse—for plants to cover all signs of human activity, far quicker than the hundred years predicted. The end times accelerated plant growth; in three or five years, even steel and concrete would be hidden. Thankfully, mutated plants posed no threat to humans—at least not yet. If plants themselves became hostile, humanity’s extinction would surely follow. Humans seemed strong, but among other creatures, they truly held little advantage.

Zombies required no sustenance and seemed tireless, walking steadily on their feet. A journey of over a hundred li would take a person quite some time due to fatigue, shoes, and sore feet, but zombies faced none of these issues. They marched relentlessly, their tough skin preventing blisters, and, crucially, low-level zombies felt no pain.

Spending time among zombies, Ma Yi felt they were more likable than human deceit. These foolish creatures, grayish in hue yet retaining human shapes and features—male and female distinctions remained. Torn flesh had regrown, and Ma Yi wondered if zombies might evolve into a new race.

A new race? The idea echoed in Ma Yi’s mind. The extinction of one species heralds the rise of another. Race?

Ma Yi jumped down from his sedan and approached ordinary zombies to observe closely.

Sensing Ma Yi’s scrutiny, a male zombie trembled nervously, stumbling as he walked. In its perception, Ma Yi was a terrifying presence, capable of crushing it with a finger. Though it feared not death, the suppression from bloodlines left it deeply uneasy.

To humans, Ma Yi had concealed his aura, appearing utterly ordinary. But to zombies, or by their senses, he was a dazzling beacon, continuously intimidating them through his level and bloodline.

Ma Yi found a female zombie among the horde and continued his observations. Despite changes in their organs, zombies’ functions seemed to retain their original purposes.

Could zombies reproduce? Ma Yi was shaken by his conclusion. Perhaps their organs hadn’t yet fully evolved, but basic functions persisted.

Would humans one day truly withdraw from this world, leaving another creature to claim the top of the food chain?

“No, humanity must not become extinct,” Ma Yi returned to his sedan, lying down and rubbing his head in distress. Everything differed so much from novels and films; zombies and humans were evolving too rapidly, as were beasts, insects, and plants. Centuries or millennia of evolution compressed into a single year. What would come of this?

As Ma Yi pondered, the vanguard of the zombie horde reached five li from the Southern Base, spreading out in an encircling formation.

The soldiers outside the base stretched their defensive lines as the zombies expanded, preparing to face the tide head-on.

As dusk fell, Ma Yi finally arrived at the front of the Southern Base. Covering over a hundred li in a day, the zombies’ pace was impressive.

Under the female zombie king’s command, the horde adjusted its deployment. The base’s forces responded in turn. In field operations, even with advanced technology and experience, humans suffered from pain and infection, unable to fight head-to-head. Thus, humanity remained at a disadvantage.

Large searchlights illuminated the surroundings, making the area outside the base as bright as day. Yet the light extended only a hundred or so meters beyond the walls—a distance that ordinary J-class zombies could cross in seconds, and high-level S-class zombies nearly instantly.

Though Ma Yi stood far away, his keen eyesight captured every detail: the tension and fear on the faces of evolved defenders on the walls, the cold determination of regular soldiers. He needed no auxiliary tools.

A high-ranking officer used a sophisticated telescope to monitor the horde, constantly relaying updates via radio to all units. He was the acting commander.

Beside him stood a fierce-looking, bald man, bare-chested, with a dragon tattoo on his arm—a clear warning that he was no ordinary person. His solid muscles and massive weapon signaled he still wasn't to be trifled with. This man was one of the city defense captains, Xu Qiang, Li Li’s nemesis.

Both sides seemed prepared, waiting for an opportunity. Night deepened. The female zombie king stood quietly by Ma Yi’s side, gazing at the base. She understood humans well; no matter how strong, they would tire. Her strategy was to make them vigilant, then exhaust them through prolonged mental strain, hastening their fatigue.

Fatigued humans, no matter how formidable, saw their strength diminished. Even the most powerful could perish if they grew lax. The female zombie king set her formation and waited patiently, preparing for the right moment. All zombies rested where they stood, replenishing themselves after their rapid march, so she had no worries.

And so, darkness settled, both armies poised for the coming battle.