Qin Dynasty: They've all turned into zombies, what's there to fear about a rebellion?

As dawn broke, the atmosphere of solemnity on the royal training ground outside Xianyang was so intense that it almost froze.

On the reviewing stand, Ying Zheng, dressed in a black dragon robe, though his face was still ashen and his fangs were still visible, possessed an imperial aura that seemed to encompass heaven and earth, stronger than ever before. He stood with his hands behind his back, his eyes, burning with green flames, fixedly staring at the tightly closed heavy iron gate at the end of the training ground.

Behind him stood the civil and military officials, led by Li Si.

These pillars of Qin were now cowering, filled with a mixture of curiosity and fear. What kind of monstrous army had the Grand Preceptor created after all this fuss—digging up dragon bones and doing some kind of "yoga"?

"Imperial Preceptor, the time has come."

Meng Tian stood below the stage, his hand on the hilt of his sword, his eyes filled with the eager anticipation of a child waiting to unwrap a present. The "Unit-01" armor he wore gleamed with a cold, dark light in the sunlight, making him appear particularly ferocious.

Su Ming, sporting two enormous dark circles under his eyes, held a cup of strong tea in his hand and lazily yawned.

"Since everyone's so eager to see the show, then... let the dogs out! Pshaw, let's have a military parade!"

With Su Ming's command, the heavy winch sounded, and the massive black iron gate, weighing a thousand pounds, slowly slid open to both sides.

There were no shouts of killing.

There was no sound of war drums.

There wasn't even the sound of a living person breathing.

Only a single, uniform, heavy footstep echoed from the depths of darkness.

"Thump!"

"Thump!"

"Thump!"

Each step felt like a giant hammer slamming into everyone's hearts. The warhorses around the training ground, seasoned veterans, began to paw at the sound of the footsteps, snorting heavily, some even neighing in fright. Had the riders not been desperately holding onto the reins, they would have turned tail and fled long ago.

"What...what is this?"

Li Si's eyes widened, and his pupils contracted sharply.

From the darkness, a black square formation slowly emerged.

Three hundred people.

They were all clad in full-body black iron heavy armor, the thickness of which was simply appalling, with the joints covered in menacing barbs and intricate gear structures. Instead of the long halberds commonly used by the Qin army, each of them dragged a massive longsword as wide as a door panel!

The blade sliced ​​across the ground, sending up a string of dazzling sparks.

What's even more chilling is that these three hundred people are completely encased in steel, with only a narrow gap left at the position of their faceplates.

And deep within that crevice, there were no human eyes or pupils.

Instead, pairs of "electronic eyes" with embedded core chips and emitting a faint red glow have been installed.

In the dim light of dawn, three hundred pairs of red eyes gleamed in the black mist, like a group of mechanical demons from hell, coldly watching this world full of flesh and blood.

"Black Iron Qin Warriors, First Squadron, assembled!"

Three hundred people stopped at the same time, their movements so synchronized as if they were one person. They didn't utter any shouts, they just stood there in silence, but the oppressive feeling brought by this silence was a hundred times more terrifying than the roar of a thousand troops.

This is Su Ming's masterpiece.

The T-virus enhances the body, zombie yoga stretches ligaments, Mo family mechanical arts create an exoskeleton, and there's also that "visual enhancement system."

These aren't soldiers! They're clearly a group of tireless, painless war machines that only know how to kill!

"Good! Good! Good!"

Ying Zheng exclaimed "Good!" three times in a row, so excited that he stepped down directly from the command platform.

Ignoring the tense looks from the surrounding guards, he walked straight to the row of elite black-clad soldiers. He stretched out his large, red-haired hand and slammed it heavily onto the breastplate of one of the soldiers.

"when!"

A muffled thud, the sound of metal colliding with metal.

The elite soldier didn't move an inch, not even swaying, while Ying Zheng felt his hand go numb.

"These are the elite warriors of my Great Qin! This is my impregnable fortress!"

Ying Zheng stroked the cold armor with almost greedy strokes, and through the gaps in the visor, he looked into the pair of emotionless red eyes inside, and a sense of unprecedented satisfaction welled up in his heart.

Soldiers in the past would get hungry, tired, afraid of death, and homesick.

But not these things right now.

They are no longer just human beings, but weapons born for war, the cornerstones of the Qin Dynasty's eternal hegemony.

"The Imperial Advisor!"

Ying Zheng whirled around, his green eyes blazing with fanaticism. "If I were given 300,000 elite soldiers like these, why would I need to wait? I could conquer this world right now!"

Su Ming chuckled and stepped forward: "Your Majesty, this is just a basic version. When our technology is upgraded in the future, we can equip them with 'corpse gas jet packs' to fly, or 'self-destruct cores' for tactical bombing. That would be truly spectacular."

"Flying? Self-destruction?"

Wang Ben, listening nearby, was practically drooling. He rubbed his hands together and fawned over Su Ming, "Um... Imperial Preceptor, could we lend these three hundred precious gems to the Marquis of Tongwu's residence for a couple of days? Just two days! I promise I won't break them!"

"Fuck you!"

Meng Tian kicked Wang Ben aside and stood protectively in front of the Black Iron Guards, shouting, "These are for guarding Xianyang! If your Tongwu Marquis's mansion wants to play around with them, go dig up some corpses from the mass grave!"

Seeing that the two top generals of the Qin Dynasty almost came to blows over this batch of "monsters," Su Ming shook his head helplessly.

This is the romance of men: mechs and zombies, which man could resist?

However, amidst this harmonious (frenzied) atmosphere, an extremely untimely, even somewhat grating, voice suddenly rang out from a corner of the civil service ranks.

"Hmph, just trying to attract attention!"

"They're putting on quite a show, all that armor and red eyes, it looks pretty scary. But what's the point of immortality? They're just a bunch of walking corpses in metal shells!"

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound.

A burly military officer with a full beard strode out. Although he was wearing court robes, his muscles seemed to burst out of the clothes, and a jade pendant symbolizing his status—a member of the Zhao clan—was hanging at his waist.

This man was named Zhao Cheng, a distant cousin of Zhao Gao, and the leader of the conservative military faction in the court.

After Zhao Gao's downfall, these people outwardly submitted, but they harbored a deep resentment. They were especially furious when they saw Su Ming, this "heretical Taoist," wreaking havoc on the Qin Dynasty with his corpse-making and reforms.

"General Zhao, what do you mean by this?"

Ying Zheng narrowed his eyes, the green flame in them flickered, and the surrounding air instantly cooled down several degrees.

Although Zhao Cheng's legs trembled from the pressure, he still braced himself and straightened his neck when he thought of the old Qin nobles behind him.

"Your Majesty! This humble general does not question your authority, but this Imperial Preceptor... is simply too absurd!"

Zhao Cheng pointed at the silent, black-clad elite soldiers, his face full of disdain. "Warfare relies on morale, battle formations, and military strategy! What do these dead men, who don't even breathe, know about teamwork? If they went to the battlefield, they'd probably just be used as target practice!"

"and……"

He glanced at Su Ming and sneered, "This body of iron looks sturdy, but once it encounters a true master, or a heavy hammer and axe, it's just an iron coffin! In my humble opinion, this is just a trick the Imperial Advisor uses to fool His Majesty and swindle money from the national treasury!"

These words caused an uproar in the room.

Although everyone thought Zhao Cheng was courting death, what he said... didn't seem entirely unreasonable. After all, these Black Iron Warriors looked fierce, but no one had actually seen whether they could fight.

Su Ming raised an eyebrow, looking at the reckless Zhao Cheng, a playful smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh? In General Zhao's opinion, how should this 'decorative item' be inspected?"

"Simple!"

Zhao Cheng ripped off his official robe, revealing his strong muscles and scarred body, and roared:

"This humble general is unworthy, but I am willing to offer my flesh and blood to learn a few moves from these 'iron lumps' of the Imperial Advisor! If I win, I beg Your Majesty to punish the Imperial Advisor for deceiving the Emperor and abolish this absurd 'injection molding' method!"

"What if you lose?" Su Ming asked calmly.

"lose?"

Zhao Cheng laughed wildly, snatched a hundred-refined steel sword from a guard beside him, twirled it, and said, "If this humble general loses to these dead men, the Grand Preceptor may use this head as a football!"

"good!"

Su Ming snapped his fingers, and the smile on his face instantly became incredibly bright, yet it also carried a chilling coldness.

He turned around and casually patted the shoulder of the Black Iron Warrior, numbered "001," who was standing at the very front.

"Since General Zhao wants to play, then let's play along."

"Go, loosen General Zhao's bones, but remember... don't kill him outright, His Majesty is waiting to see the show."

The red electronic eyes of the "001" Black Iron Warrior flashed suddenly. Then, he slowly took a step forward, dragging his huge broadsword, like a moving iron mountain, and pressed towards Zhao Cheng step by step.

"Click...click..."

The heavy footsteps sounded like a countdown to death.

Su Ming retreated to Ying Zheng's side, watching the impending "battle between humans and zombies," and shouted to Zhao Cheng:

"General Zhao, just a friendly reminder, if this punch lands... you might die in a very rhythmic way."