The Apocalypse Solution Provider

Chapter 30: Night Talk at the Base

He ran the same routine a few more times. Once the vast majority of the zombies were down, the courtyard finally fell silent.

The sun dipped below the horizon, pulling the sky into dusk.

Zhang Wan had finally woken up, though she just stared blankly at the wall.

The cramped apartment was now hosting Sun Ya and another gaunt, elderly man.

The group huddled around the cast-iron stove, drawing in its heat. A heavy pot bubbled on top, simmering a makeshift sauerkraut stew.

Heaping spoons of lard and sliced sausages made the broth rich and glossy, filling the bleak room with a mouth-watering aroma.

“Little Li, introductions are in order.” Sun Ya patted the old man beside him. “This is Wei De, call him Elder Wei. We go way back; used to be colleagues. Old Wei, this is the Little Li I mentioned.”

Wei De looked up, forcing a strained smile. Su Jin quickly reached out to shake his hand.

Sun Ya let out a heavy sigh. “Old Wei… you knew her heart was failing. Her passing now just spared her a much uglier end. You have to keep your chin up and keep breathing. If not for yourself, then for the next generation. We might be old bones, but we’ve still got some use left in us.”

“Besides, Little Li here just pulled our asses out of the fire.”

Wei De gave a slow nod, discreetly swiping at the corners of his eyes.

The stew kept bubbling away. Zhang Wan silently shuffled off to grab bowls and chopsticks.

Su Jin glanced at Sun Ya. “Old sir, does this mean you’re officially on the payroll?”

Sun Ya gave a curt nod. “You’ve got guts and a tactical mindset. And while I still think you’re clinically insane, you aren’t completely incompetent… Plus, it’s not like I have any other viable options.”

“But I need to run a debrief on your logic. Why leave a couple of zombies roaming downstairs instead of wiping the board? And exactly how much ammo are you packing for that handgun?”

“Handgun ammo is fully stocked. That shotgun of yours is strictly for emergencies, so we need to ration the shells. As for the stragglers? I left them alive for live-fire target practice.”

“Hmm… I saw the compound bows and gear stashed here too. It seems your disaster prep was thorough.”

Sun Ya lapsed into silence before his expression turned deadly serious. “You racked up a solid kill count today, but don’t let it go to your head. Listen…”

“Those zombies are literally icing over. Their ears, noses, and eyes are frozen shut, yet their reaction times are still sharp. They’re moving at an average pedestrian pace.” Su Jin rubbed his chin. “Which means if the temperature spikes, their agility metrics are going to shoot through the roof.”

“Sharp deduction. I guess I don’t need to hold your hand.” Sun Ya tapped the table. “But the real issue isn’t surface-level frost. With the temperature this far below freezing, taking a direct hit from that rain… twenty-four hours is more than enough time to solidify every drop of cellular fluid in a biological entity.”

“From a biological standpoint, those zombies should be blocks of frozen meat. Logically, their motor functions should be zero.”

“Yet they’re still walking… That blatantly defies standard biophysics.” Sun Ya paused, locking eyes with Su Jin. “I want you to secure two zombie corpses tomorrow. I need to run a post-mortem and dissect them. It’s a massive biohazard risk. Do you have the stomach for it?”

“Do you actually know what you’re doing?” Su Jin hesitated.

He had the guts, and he certainly had enough PPE, but slicing into a contaminated corpse felt like playing Russian roulette with a bioweapon.

Seeping visceral fluids, sudden arterial splatter—he couldn’t begin to calculate the risk variables.

Sun Ya paused. “No, I’m not. We are completely off the medical map. I have a solid foundation in pathology, but I’m no frontline expert. All I can promise is that it will expand our current intel on the threat.”

“I know it’s a massive gamble. You can veto it. But I strongly believe this risk is a necessary investment for our long-term survival.”

“Understood. Tomorrow, I’ll haul two bodies back. I’ll handle the scalpel, you observe.” Su Jin nodded. “Elder Sun, I’ve also got a cage of lab rats waiting for trials. We might as well kick off both projects tomorrow.”

“Hmm…” Sun Ya nodded. “Chipping ice carries a splatter risk. I’ve got half a bottle of the initial rainwater stashed in my apartment. We can use that.”

“Your rainwater is probably expired stock. I’ll still have to fetch fresh ice.” After a brief hesitation, Su Jin decided to drop a truth bomb.

“Excuse me?” Sun Ya’s gaze instantly hardened. “How do you know the rainwater degraded?”

“I can literally see the infection source. The active agent dissipates after roughly five days.”

Hiss! Sun Ya drew in a sharp breath. Every head in the room snapped toward Su Jin. Even the catatonic Wei De jerked his chin up.

“You have a perceptual mutation? How does it trigger? What is the morphological structure of the pathogen?”

Su Jin gave a cynical smirk. “Call it a latent talent. Qingdai can predict the future, right? But my scanner is pretty glitchy. The pathogen looks like a gray mist. Without a liquid medium, it aerosolizes and scatters quickly. Unfortunately, I can only track the baseline agent. Once it infects a biological host, it drops off my radar completely.”

“That’s fantastic news! So you’re carrying some abnormal traits too—no wonder you backed Qingdai’s intel!” Sun Ya’s face lit up. “A five-day decay rate. The rain has stopped. That means the environmental contamination is about to hit zero?”

“No.” Wei De croaked, his voice thick with exhaustion. “We have zero guarantee against a secondary weather event. And the primary vector has already shifted from the environment to living hosts. Do any of those walking corpses look like they’re dying off to you?”

The harsh reality check sent the room’s morale plummeting right back into the gutter.

Su Jin let out a dry chuckle. “Folks, let’s drop the fairy tales. No cavalry is coming. Prepare for a long war… Now pass the bowls.”

…

Deep into the night, the howling winds outside finally began to die down.

The apartment was dead quiet, save for the steady, comforting hiss of the burning coal briquettes.

Faint slivers of firelight bled through the stove’s grates, casting a warm, flickering amber over the darkness.

Fu Hu, Sun Ya, and the others had staked out their corners, cocooning themselves in heavy quilts to catch some much-needed sleep.

Su Jin was huddled in the corner, his brain refusing to power down. He stared into the glowing embers, running endless tactical simulations.

He had logged a decent kill streak today. The visceral terror was fading, replaced by a dark, almost vindictive surge of dopamine.

But dissecting a corpse… did he actually have the stomach for that?

Elder Sun needed clinical data. The virus’s exact parameters were still a black box. Should he pause the recruitment drive until the lab results were in, or push forward aggressively?

Mid-thought, a tiny silhouette darted past the stove, scuttling low to the ground before flopping down right next to him.

“Qingdai?” Su Jin glanced down.

“Brother, can I sleep over here?” Fu Qingdai whispered. She was bundled tight in a quilt, nothing visible but her pale little face.

Su Jin reached out and gave her head a couple of reassuring pats.

Feeling a thick layer of grease on his palm, he immediately wiped it off on her blanket.

“What’s the matter?”

“My mom still isn’t doing well. What if she doesn’t wake up?” Leaning against his arm, Fu Qingdai murmured, her voice trembling on the edge of a sob.

Su Jin stared at the ceiling and let out a long, heavy sigh.

She was just a kid, after all. The fact that she had acted as his decoy to kill zombies and held her nerve this long was a miracle in itself.

“It’s fine. Your mom just needs to reboot. Our security perimeter is only going to get tighter. Sooner or later, we’ll get back to normal operations.”

Fu Qingdai didn’t answer, just silently leaking tears onto her quilt.

Seeing this, Su Jin reached over, pulled her into a clumsy side-hug, and let out a deliberate snort.

“Jesus… your hair grease is thick enough to fry an egg. Worst case scenario, we can always tap you for cooking oil to stave off starvation.”

“Brother~!!” Fu Qingdai’s face instantly burned beet red. Whimpering in sheer mortification, she yanked her quilt up.

Rolling herself into a tight, defensive ball, she buried her face straight into his chest.