Doomsday Cognition Guide

The atmosphere at the camp changed over the next two days.

The cleanup operation continued, with each team advancing clockwise, searching each building and moving supplies. The zombie density remained low; the few encountered were scattered and posed no real threat. Meanwhile, command issued a new task assignment—after completing their day's cleanup, each team needed to allocate personnel to seal off the sewer entrances in the cleared areas. This wasn't unexpected—the sewers were interconnected, and zombies could easily emerge from behind.

The sealing-off work proceeded methodically. Each team was assigned a section to locate and seal off the sewer exits in the cleared areas. For some reason, the atmosphere in the camp grew increasingly oppressive. The clearing tasks were getting easier, and the number of zombies was decreasing, but everyone felt as if a stone was pressing on their hearts. The card players had all disappeared, and only figures silently cleaning their guns and checking their ammunition remained around the campfire. Xiao Liu took out the bandages from his medkit, rolled them up again, put them back in, took them out again, and rolled them up again. Lao Ma leaned against his shield, staring blankly at the fire.

The encirclement is tightening bit by bit.

Li Xuan's team was also cooperating in the sealing off. Uncle Si led the supply team, checking each sewer entrance one by one. Once found, they crouched down, using their supernatural abilities to manipulate steel bars to cross and seal the entrances, welding them deep into the concrete walls. Several entrances were along the riverbank, the muddy water ankle-deep. He crouched in the darkness, his fingers barely moving, and the steel bars silently sank into the water, a few bubbles rising to the surface. Old Ma stood nearby, shining a waterproof flashlight, occasionally asking, "Are there really zombies down there?" No one answered—the occasional rustling scraping sounds from deep within the pipes were more convincing than any answer.

The search area had shrunk to the last few buildings, getting closer and closer to the tunnel complex. Li Xuan and his fourth uncle stood in front of the entrance to Tunnel No. 7. This tunnel connected the new and old city areas, and was now completely sealed off by a crisscrossing array of steel bars, leaving only a narrow passage for one person to squeeze through sideways. His fourth uncle squatted beside the tunnel entrance, manipulating the last few short steel bars to reinforce the outer edge of the array. His trouser legs were covered in mud—some fresh mud from sealing the sewers, some dried and whitish, forming a hard crust, a different color from the mud on the city side.

Li Xuan leaned against the rock wall at the tunnel entrance, watching the steel bars silently embed themselves deep into the concrete under his fourth uncle's supernatural power, and suddenly asked a question.

Where have you been all this time?

Uncle Si's fingers paused for a moment, then continued pushing forward, the steel bars sinking deep into the concrete wall, interlocking with the rock face. "We sealed off several tunnel entrances on the other side of the mountain." His tone was calm, as if he were stating how many walls he had built that day. "The back ones. The highway, the railway, the high-speed rail—all three exits are sealed off, three layers deep. Now the zombies can't escape from there."

Li Xuan listened without speaking. He stuck the branch in his hand into the soil at his feet and drew a circle. This stroke connected with the previous circles. The mountainside was used to block the exit on the other side, the city's sewers were sealed off, and now there was this array of steel bars beneath his feet—three layers of winches, each layer welded in by his fourth uncle. The winches finally formed a closed loop. His fourth uncle dusted the iron filings off his hands and stood up. Deep inside the tunnel, the darkness was eerily quiet. The two stood side by side at the tunnel entrance, neither uttering a single word.

On the morning of the third day, the Corpse King moved.

This was the first probe. The encirclement wasn't completely closed, but the Zombie King already sensed the threat—its forces were compressed, its retreat blocked, and it needed to know where the human defenses were weakest. Zombies surged out from several directions simultaneously, attacking various intersections. This wasn't the sporadic encounters of the past few days, but a continuous barrage of attacks—ordinary zombies expended ammunition in the front, while mutants hid in the middle, tearing gaps open; the rhythm of their attacks and howls was unusually synchronized for zombies. The machine guns on the armored vehicles fired from morning till evening, switching to spare barrels when they were red-hot, and then switching back when the spare barrels were red-hot. The pressure on each defensive line was immense, and several sections were nearly breached—the shield wall at the eastern intersection was breached by the Tyrant, creating a half-meter-wide gap, and several speed-type zombies managed to slip inside; it was only thanks to the reserve forces that the opening was resealed.

They held the line. All the crossroads were held. That evening, Lieutenant Colonel Han convened a meeting of all the squad leaders in the command tent.

She didn't explain the reason for the adjustment. She simply drew a circle on the map with a red pen around the location of the tunnel complex, paused for a moment, and left a red dot the size of a fingernail.

"All our previous assessments—the unusual retreat of zombies, the sudden drop in density—were based on data and experience. We knew something was directing them, but we had no evidence." She looked up and glanced at the squad leaders present. "Today we have it. A coordinated attack of that scale couldn't have been a spontaneous act by the zombies. A highly intelligent mutant is directing them, right within our encirclement. All our previous assumptions have come true."

A few seconds of silence fell over the tent. No one questioned, no one raised any issues. Each squad leader had witnessed firsthand the rhythm of the zombie attacks earlier that day—it wasn't instinct, it was command.

"Therefore, we must keep it. At all costs." Lieutenant Colonel Han's voice wasn't loud, but every word slammed onto the table. She put down her red pen. "This isn't an ordinary cleanup operation. If this mutant escapes, it will gather more zombies, threatening all the surrounding settlements. Today it was just a test; next time it will be a full-scale breakout. Adjust the troop deployment across all defensive lines, strengthen the guard at each tunnel entrance, and everyone be prepared for the final battle starting tomorrow."

After the meeting, Li Xuan sat by the campfire, disassembled his pistol, wiped it clean, and then put it back together. His fourth uncle was tidying up the throwing knife sheaths beside him, and the two of them remained silent.

On the morning of the fourth day, the last section of the sewer was sealed off by Uncle Si using his supernatural abilities. All possible escape routes were blocked. The troops began advancing towards the area where the Zombie King was most likely to be hiding. This time, it was no longer a matter of clearing the perimeter, but a direct incursion into the core area. Then, the great battle erupted. This was not a test; it was the Zombie King's all-out breakout—it had committed all its remaining forces. Zombies poured out from every tunnel entrance, every alleyway, and every unsealed crevice, at a density far exceeding any previous day. Gunfire and screams filled the air, along with calls for reinforcements.

During the battle, Li Xuan noticed that these zombies were different from yesterday's probing attacks—their attacks were more frenzied and reckless. They were sacrificial pawns, cannon fodder used to hold back the main force. The real blades were hidden elsewhere.

A hurried voice suddenly came through the walkie-talkie, mixed with gunshots and screams. "Tunnel Seven—requesting backup! Tyrants are ramming the steel bars! They've broken through—they're rushing out of the tunnel! There's more than one Tyrant! And—" The voice was interrupted by a loud bang, followed by chaotic shouts and a barrage of gunfire. Only the grating static of electricity remained on the channel.

Tunnel Seven. It's the internal passage connecting the new and old city areas. Uncle Four reinforced it with a steel spike array, but that was only temporary reinforcement, far from enough to withstand the Tyrant's full-force charge. Once the zombies break through Tunnel Seven, they'll enter the old city—the place where tens of thousands of ordinary survivors live. Next to the old city is the great river, with a long bank that's impossible to completely block. If the Zombie King bursts out from there, it can float downstream and escape into the depths of the mountains.

Li Xuan pressed the walkie-talkie and glanced around. All the defensive lines were desperately holding off the feinting attacks of the zombie horde. The nearest reserve team would have to cross several streets to arrive, taking at least several minutes. The Zombie King wouldn't wait. He walked over to his fourth uncle. His fourth uncle was manipulating several steel bars to seal a breached alleyway entrance, the bars interlocking in mid-air. "I'm going to Tunnel Seven." His fourth uncle's fingers paused, the steel bars hovering in the air for half a second before continuing to push, the force of the push into the wall slightly heavier than usual. "I'll be there as soon as I'm done here." He didn't look at Li Xuan, his voice steady. Li Xuan nodded, grabbed his pistol, and ran towards Tunnel Seven.

When he reached the tunnel entrance, the defensive line was already on the verge of collapse. Two Tyrants charged forward side-by-side, smashing a large hole through the reinforced steel spike array reinforced by Uncle Si—the Tyrants repeatedly slammed their shoulders against the same steel bar, bending it into an arc, while several surrounding bars were also stretched crooked, their spikes breaking off at the base, fragments scattered everywhere. Zombies were surging through the gap. The old city was just beyond the tunnel—he could even see the dim yellow lights at the tunnel's end. Behind him was a dense horde of corpses, filling the entire tunnel. Wind-type zombies whipped up gusts of wind, hurling sand, gravel, and spent shell casings at him. Speed-type zombies followed closely behind the Tyrants, pouncing from the side the moment they breached the defenses—several military police officers already lay dead in pools of blood. A gap had been torn in the defensive line, and the horde of corpses was pouring out from the crack.

Li Xuan moved swiftly along the tunnel wall, squinting as he scanned the entire battlefield in the howling wind. He discerned the Tyrant's position and charging rhythm, the wind-type zombies' stances, and the speed-type zombies' movement routes, before charging in. The tunnel entrance was reinforced by Uncle Si with spiral spikes and crisscrossing steel mesh—these obstacles now became his personal stronghold. Zombies charging in were pierced and caught, those behind pushing the corpses in front to continue their charge, only to be caught by the next row of spikes, piling up layer upon layer. Li Xuan weaved through these obstacles, his spear darting in and out of the gaps between the spikes, each thrust using the zombie's own momentum to propel the spearhead deep into its skull.

A tyrant broke through the front row of spikes, its shoulder slamming into the steel mesh, deforming the steel and sending fragments flying. Li Xuan dodged to the side, using the tip of his spear to brace against the tyrant's shoulder, channeling his inner force into its joints. The tyrant lost its footing on one leg, collapsing with a thud as it hit a nearby spike, where it was simultaneously pierced by three steel bars.

The gale suddenly stopped—the wind-elemental zombie had been hit by fire from the military police behind them. Before Li Xuan could catch his breath, the second Tyrant had already charged at him, its shoulder crackling with fine blue arcs of electricity—lightning power. He swung his spear across its body, the arcs of electricity traveling along the shaft, instantly paralyzing his entire arm and forcing his fingers to release the gun. The Tyrant gave him no time to react, its shoulder slamming into his chest—a muffled thud echoed from his chest as several ribs broke. He was sent flying, his back slamming heavily into a crisscrossing steel mesh. Before he could even slide down, a broken spiral spike pierced his left waist, exiting from his back and pinning him to the steel mesh. Blood dripped down the steel bars, staining the gravel and dust on the tunnel floor.

He glanced down at the steel bar piercing him, then grabbed it with his left hand and pulled it out, tearing himself apart from the nail-pierced wound. Blood splattered onto the steel mesh behind him. His body slumped, his legs went weak, his knees nearly hitting the ground, and his vision went black for a few seconds. He gritted his teeth and held on, catching the short gun falling from the sky with his right hand—his fourth uncle's throwing knife had blocked the tyrant's pursuit in the moment of his paralysis, the steel nail embedded in the tyrant's shoulder, slowing its second impact by half a beat. That half beat was enough. Li Xuan landed, the short gun sweeping horizontally, the tip using the tyrant's forward momentum to pierce its eye socket, channeling hidden force into it. The tyrant's head jolted violently, its massive body tilted to the side, the arc of electricity flashing one last time before extinguishing.

Li Xuan struggled free from the steel mesh, his body swaying slightly as he used his short gun to steady himself. His life force was desperately trying to heal his wounds, but the puncture wounds were too deep, and the healing couldn't keep up. His vision blurred, and the gunfire and screams around him suddenly seemed distant. He remembered that line from his previous life—"Thousands sacrificed." Those commanders didn't know what they were facing, but they instinctively made the judgment: they couldn't let that thing escape. Thousands of people gave their lives to keep it. In this life, it was he who issued the warning, it was he who had his fourth uncle block the tunnel, circling around to the other side of the mountain to seal off the retreat route, that forced the zombie king to this tunnel entrance. If it escaped, he would be letting down the thousands of people in his previous life who had made the same judgment with their own lives. He also couldn't let the zombie enter the old city—thousands of lives, something everyone had desperately protected for the past few months.

A speed-type zombie pounced from the flank; he dodged, and with a backhand slash—the Tang sword snapped in two at the crack, the front half flying off and embedding itself in the rock wall. He tossed aside the hilt, pulled the short spear from the Tyrant's eye socket, and aimed the tip at the Zombie King. The Zombie King was still behind—its slender body lurking behind the last few guard zombies, its green eyes gleaming coldly in the darkness.

The tyrants charged again. Two of them crashed into each other side by side. The Corpse King had committed all his last elite forces. Li Xuan gripped the spear shaft and met them head-on. The tension in his fascia had reached its limit; he couldn't feel his legs, nor his right arm, burned by the electric arc. His entire body was like a machine pushed to its limit, every joint screaming, yet every part was still functioning. The spear tip pierced the knee of the first tyrant, and he used the momentum of the falling tyrant to slide through the gap between the two tyrants—a movement that normally required perfect coordination of the body's fascia, but now he was moving solely by muscle memory. The tyrant's claws grazed his back, leaving several deep wounds, but he had already passed through them.

The Zombie King was right in front of it. Realizing something was wrong, it turned to run deeper into the tunnel, but it was too late. Li Xuan's spear flew from his hand—not as a thrust, but as a throw. The short spear flew from his paralyzed right hand, carrying the last of his strength, piercing the Zombie King's shoulder and pinning it to the tunnel floor. He pounced on it, pinning it down, grabbing its neck with his left hand and pressing it against a steel bar pointing outwards. The bar pierced its back and emerged from its chest. The Zombie King opened its mouth to scream, but before the sound could escape, Li Xuan used the spear to plunge it straight into its brain through its mouth. All the zombies in the tunnel paused for a moment. Its body twitched a few times, and the light in its green eyes went out.

Li Xuan knelt before the Corpse King, panting heavily. Before him was a blur of blood mist and darkness, and the sounds from the tunnel grew fainter and fainter.

When Uncle Si arrived with reinforcements, the tunnel entrance had become a bloodbath. Dozens of zombies lay sprawled inside and outside the tunnel—the corpses of three Tyrants lay beside the spike array, one of them with the blunted short spear still lodged in its eye socket; more corpses hung from the spikes, row upon row, layer upon layer, like a forest of steel and flesh. Uncle Si found Li Xuan deep within the spike array. He knelt before a thin zombie, blood still seeping from a penetrating wound in his abdomen, a laceration on his left arm running from his wrist to his elbow, and several cuts on his back from the Tyrants' claws; his camouflage uniform was already soaked in blood. The Tang sword was broken in two, the tip embedded in the rock wall, the hilt lying in a pool of blood at his feet. The short spear—the long spear brought from the county's armory—had a blunted tip, several bulges on the shaft from the Tyrants' impacts, and was bent and deformed in several places.

Fourth Uncle squatted down in front of him, one hand pressing on his shoulder, the other hovering beside the penetrating wound, afraid to touch it. Old Ma, holding his shield, stood at the tunnel entrance. Seeing Fourth Uncle's crouching figure, he slammed the shield on the ground and turned away. Little Liu ran over with a medical kit, tried to untangle the bandages, his fingers trembling so much he couldn't remove the gauze.

Li Xuan saw his fourth uncle's face moving before his eyes. That black face, stained with iron ash for months and never washed clean, was very close. His lips were moving, but the voice sounded like it was drifting from a distant body of water. He moved his lips a few times, managing to squeeze out only two hoarse, almost inaudible words.

"fine."

Before he could finish speaking, everything went black, and he collapsed.

Uncle Four grabbed his shoulder, preventing him from falling into the pool of blood. Behind them, the blunted short gun was still stuck in the tyrant's eye socket. The beam of the searchlight swept over, illuminating the shaft, casting long shadows from the impact marks and bends. At the tunnel entrance, corpses piled high on spiral spikes swayed slightly in the wind, like a silent metal forest. At the other end of the tunnel, the searchlights of the old town were still on, their dim light filtering through the tunnel's end, illuminating the blood-stained steel mesh and stretching the shadows of each spike long.