Chapter Forty-One: Laying Out the Plan (Part One)

“Oh, you’re awake? Not bad, you know. Took a punch from our boss and woke up in less than an hour—seems you’re not just for show!” Kelly, sitting casually on the nearby desk with a stalk of straw in her mouth, glanced over. Abel shook his head, trying to clear his mind, and looked around. Aside from Kelly, several others were in the room, clustered around his usual desk, discussing something over a map.

As her words registered, Abel paused, memories rushing back. He’d been restraining that scrawny old man, only to be stunned when the frail-looking elder broke free—not with technique, but sheer force. The old man even pushed him back several meters, and Abel, all two meters of muscle, hadn’t reacted in time. When he did, he’d raised his gun only to see a huge black fist flying toward him. After that, everything went black.

Now, hearing the female soldier’s words, Abel felt speechless. It sounded as if being knocked out in one punch was some sort of honor, and waking up so soon was even more glorious. Was she really rubbing it in? Couldn’t she spare a thought for the dignity of the one who got decked?

Back with the Eastern Sea Group Army, Abel was well-known—nicknamed Giant Abel. There were few in the entire military district who could stand against him. Yet today, he’d been shoved several meters by a feeble old man, then knocked out cold by this black gorilla of a leader. Now, upon waking, he was being mocked by some girl? This was truly the humiliation of a lifetime.

“Oh, you’re up?” Thomas, sipping a glass of water, noticed the stir and walked over, clapping Abel on the shoulder in a familiar manner. “Now that you’re awake, come join the discussion. After all, you’re the one most familiar with the terrain.” After a pause, he added, “You’re in great shape—the first from your unit to wake up.”

Heh. Abel gave a cold snort. Not only had these people shown off before, now he had to endure another round? Wasn’t this a bit much? Wait—“Our unit?” Abel’s face hardened. “How are they?” For the first time, he realized he was inside the lighthouse. Before meeting this group, he’d made ample preparations—real soldiers, live ammunition, a full company stationed here. And yet, from what that girl said, he’d only been out for about an hour. They’d taken down an entire company—prepared and armed—in under an hour?

“It’s fine…” Thomas waved a hand. “No casualties. For a navy man, you set up quite the defense. It took over half an hour and more than twenty of us to take the place. You did well.”

“Are you… complimenting me?” Abel’s eyelid twitched. He’d suffered more humiliation today than in all his years in the military.

“Of course!” Thomas grinned, his manner painfully earnest, which only made Abel more uncomfortable.

“Here, take a look.” Thomas led Abel over to the desk. Guo Lang and Wick shifted aside to make room, since both were giants themselves.

“What’s this?” Abel’s eyes narrowed. “A detailed map of Hainan Island?” He looked up at the group. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“We told you from the start—we’re establishing a research base on Hainan Island.”

Abel sneered. “And what’s so interesting about that?”

“Well…” Thomas scratched his chin. “There were some communication issues. Mainly, our research lead is Mr. Guo Lang here.” He gestured to Guo Lang. “As you can see, he’s rather young—not exactly the image of authority. So we swapped in a different spokesperson. Old Wick here fits the professor look better…”

Abel laughed, exasperated. “Do I look like an idiot to you?”

“Hey, don’t be so resistant…” Thomas clapped him on the shoulder again. “Haven’t you noticed our team is… a bit unusual?”

Abel paused, unsure what to say. Was he supposed to admit how extraordinary they were—and by extension, how pathetic his own side was, having been dispatched so easily?

“Are you mocking me?”

“Not at all,” Thomas replied earnestly. “Just stating facts. Don’t you agree?”

Abel’s face grew darker, but at last, with a pained look, he nodded. “Your team is impressive…”

“Is that all? Think about it—how many normal teams could overrun your defenses so quickly? We took your whole company without a single shot, all in twenty minutes, and all by hand.”

Guo Lang and Wick, listening behind them, couldn’t help but twitch at the corners of their mouths. When had they realized their big black companion was such a master of provocation? Why did everything he said sound so aggravating?

“Fine, your team is incredible, happy?”

Thomas grinned even wider. “Of course we are. Actually—” He was about to continue when Guo Lang, unable to bear it any longer, cut him off: “That’s thanks to the genetic serum research.” As he spoke, Guo Lang activated his bloodline. His pupils visibly shifted from black to pale violet, and a palpable biological pressure spread outward from him.

Even at its lowest level, this bloodline field was unmistakable—a bit like the sense of dread you’d feel with a massive python lurking behind you. Even before you saw its size, your genes knew to fear a predator. And this was just the beginning. At higher bloodline levels—if Guo Lang evolved to Silver or even Gold tier—he could, with a single unleashing of his bloodline field, make everyone within a kilometer collapse unconscious; more effective than any fictional conqueror’s aura.

Feeling this pressure, Abel swallowed hard. “So you’re really the Avengers?”

Guo Lang paused, turning to Thomas. “What’s that?”

“Oh, a sci-fi movie. A bunch of oddballs—aliens, mutants, even a few magicians—team up to tear down New Newton together.”

Guo Lang was speechless. Why did people always ask idiotic questions at the worst moments? Couldn’t they let him show off properly for once?

With a heavy sigh, Guo Lang dropped the banter. “Colonel Abel, I sincerely invite you and your men to join our team.”

“Join you?” Abel sneered. “And who exactly do you represent, sir from the West? The military? Or your Red Hawk Federation?”

“I represent none of the powers you know.”

“But you don’t represent our federal government either, do you?” Abel’s gaze was icy as he looked at Thomas. “So, you’ve betrayed your own country?”

“I’ve never betrayed my country!” Thomas’s face grew solemn. “Those warlord generals, more loyal to themselves than the nation, don’t represent the country I love. When I joined the military, I swore an oath. My men and I are willing to bleed for our homeland—but not for the selfish interests of those in power. Don’t mix up the two.”

“Yet you’re serving him now?” Abel jabbed a finger at Guo Lang.

“If I must serve a private cause, then at least his is worth following.”

“I see…” Abel mused, then turned to Guo Lang. “If my men and I join you, what do you offer?”

So, negotiations had begun. Guo Lang was delighted, and answered sincerely, “First, I can provide you and your soldiers with a dose of the genetic serum. You’ve seen what it does—greatly enhances physical abilities. While you won’t be Superman, you’ll be able to take down a couple of zombies in hand-to-hand combat, and you’ll be immune to the zombie virus.”

Abel’s eyes lit up. Now that was a valuable offer.

“After we establish the base on Hainan, I’ll handle all logistics. No member of the base will go hungry, and I guarantee everyone’s safety. Once the base is secure, you can organize your men to look for family. If you find survivors, you’re welcome to bring them back—I’ll guarantee their safety and provide doses for them too, so they can defend themselves.”

Abel’s face showed real interest. Guo Lang’s offer was sincere, and it was exactly what he and his men wanted most.

“Moreover, if your subordinates can’t find their families, we’ll allow them to start new ones among the refugees we take in. I promise—every combatant’s family, whether wife or children, will receive the serum.”

Abel fell silent, took a deep breath. “Your terms are tempting. But what if the apocalypse ends, the military retakes the cities, and the government is restored?”

“Sorry,” Guo Lang spread his hands. “Our agreement is for life—no backing out. Even if things go as you say, you’ll still stand with me.”

“Hmm…” Abel nodded. That was reasonable. Nothing in life came without a price.

“And you needn’t worry about that.” Guo Lang smiled. “Leaving aside the selfishness of those generals, the zombies are nowhere near as simple as you think.”

“What do you mean?” Abel asked.

“They can evolve,” Guo Lang replied grimly. “These zombies are the result of a rival group’s virus. That virus isn’t static. I saw the surveillance feeds in your lighthouse’s lower level—haven’t you noticed the zombies are moving faster and more coordinated lately? Some are even growing new features?”

Abel’s heart skipped. He had noticed—those monsters were indeed improving in speed and coordination, and a few had started sprouting something like scales, their nails growing longer and sharper. It was chilling.

“These creatures evolve in three stages. Not all reach the third, but most can get to the second. With biological armor, even light machine guns won’t be able to take them down unless you concentrate fire. Their speed will double. Third-stage zombies can tear apart your armored vehicles with their claws—I’m not joking. If it comes to that, the military won’t be retaking anything. They’ll be fighting just to survive.”

Abel frowned, about to say more, but Guo Lang continued, “And my enemy—they have ways to control the zombies. If they’re ready, it won’t be a matter of reclaiming cities—it’ll be whether the armies can even protect themselves.”

Guo Lang’s words left Abel and even Thomas’s crew in heavy silence. Guo Lang had told them this before, but remembering it now sent a chill down their spines. They could barely imagine what that would be like—if it really happened, could the military survive at all?

“You sound like you’re telling a science fiction story,” Abel said with a laugh. But then he nodded. “I believe you. I’ll take the job.”