Chapter Ninety-Eight: Swift and Decisive

Rebuilding Civilization

(Woke up at five in the morning to find the little baby running a fever of 39 degrees. Really frustrated, so this chapter is updated early because I have to go to the hospital! I barely have the energy to ask for votes...)

Having faced off with R3 once before, Xie Han knew well that even laser weapons, which could actually harm the R3, were of little use against it. Its close-range speed was simply too great—so fast that you couldn't even fire in time. In close combat, only cold weapons could truly contend with the R3. They allowed the hand to follow the heart; as long as your reflexes were quick enough, you might still keep up with the R3's rhythm.

As the R3 charged forward, closing the distance in an instant, Xie Han gripped his Tiger Fang tightly, eyes locked on the beast hurtling toward him. With just over ten meters to go, the R3 suddenly leapt, raising its razor-sharp claws and swooping down at Xie Han with a heavy swipe.

There was little time to react, so Xie Han chose a decisive tactic. He stared fixedly at the descending R3, his mind calculating its target in a flash. In that split second, he determined the strike was aimed at his head. A cold smile flickered across Xie Han's lips. With a deft sidestep, he raised the Tiger Fang upright, pointing it at the R3’s hideous, menacing head.

In that split moment, the R3’s claw crashed onto Xie Han’s shoulder. He felt a surge of searing pain. Even with the micro battle armor’s formidable defense, the R3’s claw managed to tear off a sizable chunk. Enduring the agony, Xie Han sensed a hammering force transmitted through the Tiger Fang. The blade, hard as steel and keen as ever, had already pierced through the R3’s right eye. The immense momentum carried the blade all the way through the creature’s skull.

Against an ordinary zombie, or even an R2, such a blow would have been instantly fatal. But the R3, even after suffering such grievous injury, did not die immediately. Instead, it let out a guttural howl, its twin claws flailing madly as it slashed toward Xie Han in a frenzy.

Xie Han knew all too well the terror of those claws. They could rip through nonwoven fabric twenty-five times stronger than steel. If they caught him, his micro armor would be shredded in moments. At that critical instant, Xie Han's left hand shot out, yanking the Thunderclap shotgun from his side. He jammed it against the R3’s abdomen and squeezed the trigger with all his might.

The Thunderclap’s signature roar filled the air, blast after blast pounding into the R3’s gut. Even as tough as the R3 was, such concentrated fire tore its abdomen to shreds. Blackish-red viscera splattered everywhere, staining Xie Han’s chest a deep crimson.

But it wasn’t enough. Amid the shotgun’s thunderous reports, Xie Han still gripped the Tiger Fang, twisting it violently within the R3's skull. With each churn, the creature’s movements grew weaker until, finally, it was still. The R3 had evolved to the point where seventy percent of its body was human-like, so Xie Han’s twisting sent white and red brain matter gushing out. As its life ebbed away, the energy sustaining its body dissipated. The once fearsome corpse became pitifully frail, and a few more twists with the Tiger Fang reduced its head to a ruinous pulp.

Xie Han panted heavily, his exertions having drained him. He wiped the foul blood from his helmet visor, then kicked the fallen R3 savagely a few times.

It had been a close call. Without the micro battle armor's monstrous defense, that swipe to his shoulder would have severed half his body. In truth, Xie Han had counted on the R3 not being able to fully breach his armor’s protective layer. Only thus could he risk a swift kill. Had he missed with his first strike, the R3 would have become vastly more difficult to handle. So long as it kept moving at that terrifying speed, Xie Han would have been the one doomed.

Xie Han’s swift victory over the R3 was a stroke of luck—he’d barely escaped with his life. Inside the base, several rocket vehicles had already locked onto him and the R3. Had he been even half a minute slower, he would have become another target for their missiles, just like the R3.

Xie Han, of course, was unaware of this. And at that very moment, Yang Xingjun within the base had no time to spare for Xie Han either. At the far edge of the plain, the people who had initially fled were now stampeding back toward the base in terror, their cries ringing out. Behind them surged a black tide: a vast horde of zombies. The ground trembled with their advance, leaving every soldier atop the base’s high walls stunned. This endless sea of zombies defied all estimation.

Xie Han broke into a run, dashing toward Chen Liu’s convoy. Perhaps the battle had ended too quickly, for Chen Liu and the others hadn't yet gone far. Seeing Xie Han rapidly closing the distance, they immediately halted their vehicles.

Leaping into the passenger seat, Xie Han gasped, "Step on it! Damn it, those things are finally here." Chen Liu needed no further explanation—he understood all too well what was happening. Glancing at the fleeing masses around them, he wondered how many would actually escape with their lives.

A few minutes later, the convoy reached the edge of the mountains and, under Xie Han’s direction, plunged into a ravine. Hundreds of refugees followed in their wake, the convoy acting as their lifeline. They ran after the vehicles, desperate to escape.

Winding through the ravine for several minutes, their ears were suddenly filled with a deafening rumble that seemed to envelop the sky itself. The roar persisted for more than ten minutes before gradually fading. By then, the convoy had emerged from the ravine, laboriously climbing a deserted mountain road to a vantage point halfway up the slope.

From this high perch, they gazed down upon the base, now entirely surrounded by the zombie horde. Those who had been scattered outside the base were either slaughtered and devoured or, like Xie Han, had managed to reach the distant hills. From this commanding height, they could see, scattered across the ridges, desperate figures scrambling upward, fleeing for their lives from the land of death.

How many was a million zombies? The very concept was hard to grasp. The horde outside the base was packed as densely as a shoal of sardines, and those who couldn’t fit surged toward the hills, filling every ravine. The true scale was almost unimaginable. By Xie Han’s reckoning, what he saw was perhaps only a tenth of the entire zombie swarm. Who could say how many square kilometers would be covered if all the millions spread out?

Now, for those trapped inside the base, there was no need to aim—firing randomly into the horde would guarantee a hit. The gaps blasted open by artillery fire were instantly filled again. After more than ten minutes of relentless shelling, the base must have exhausted its ammunition.

Xie Han knew he was still in grave danger. Agile R3s could cover the distance to them in mere minutes. Yet he chose not to leave, for he wanted to know what had driven these zombies to march on foot for half a year.