Doomsday Cognition Guide

Li Xuan remained unconscious for three full days. His life force field desperately repaired his damaged body: the penetrating wound in his abdomen, the fractured ribs, the lacerations in his arms, and countless bruises and abrasions all over his body. Every breath was a dull ache in his chest, and every turn felt like rolling on a knife's edge. On the evening of the third day, he finally opened his eyes.

The tent was dimly lit, with only an emergency light from the bedside lamp casting a yellowish glow. The air was thick with the smell of disinfectant, gunpowder, and earth. It took him a dozen seconds to focus the double images in his vision—the tent roof, the cot, the IV stand, and his fourth uncle. His fourth uncle was slumped over the headboard, his hair a tangled mess, his face, unwashed for days, streaked with black and white from iron dust and sweat. His right hand was still resting beside the throwing knife sheath, his fingers unconsciously curled, as if he were still controlling the knife in a dream. Li Xuan moved a finger, the sheets making a barely audible rustling sound, and his fourth uncle jerked his head up. His eyes were bloodshot, deep, not the red of someone who'd been up all night, but the red of someone who'd been up for several days straight.

He looked at Li Xuan's open eyes, his lips moved, but he didn't speak. Then he turned his face away and wiped his eyes with his palm. The movement was heavy, like rubbing rust off iron.

"I'll go get the doctor." His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping against a metal plate.

"How many days have you not slept?"

Uncle Si didn't answer. He pushed the throwing knife sheath further to his waist. He lowered his head, his hands clasped together, his knuckles white from the effort.

"I should have gone with you."

"You were the squad leader, and they couldn't do without you back then."

Fourth Uncle looked up at him and said, "Your dad told me to keep an eye on you and not let you be too impulsive. I was going to chase after you as soon as I finished my work, but I couldn't catch up. You ran too fast. You should have waited for me to go with you."

Li Xuan leaned against the pillow, looking at the top of the tent. "The situation was urgent. If we had been any slower, the Corpse King would have broken through." But another thought lingered in his mind: "This is a change I made. There are backlashes, and I should bear them."

Fourth Uncle didn't say anything more. He took off the throwing knife sheath and placed it on the bedside table, then stood up and dusted off his knees. "Alright, I'm not blaming you, I just want to tell you not to be too impulsive. I'm still thinking about how to explain this to your father when we get back." He said this while standing still and glancing at Li Xuan again, then turned around, lifted the curtain, and went out.

"Just don't let my mom know."

Uncle Si didn't answer, but simply waved his hand and continued walking out. The curtain fell behind him, bringing in a gust of cold wind that made the emergency light flicker twice. Not long after he left, a middle-aged doctor in a white coat lifted the curtain and came in. He walked to the bedside, unwrapped the bandages to check the healing of the wound, listened to the echoes of the internal organs with a stethoscope, then straightened up, pushed up his glasses, and looked at Li Xuan with an incredulous expression.

"I heard before that some people had started to evolve, but I didn't really believe it. Seeing your recovery ability, I do believe it now. Get some rest." He put the stethoscope in his pocket, shook his head, and walked out.

The news spread quickly. Not long after the doctor left, Lieutenant Colonel Han arrived. She lifted the tent flap, holding a manila envelope, and stood in front of the bed looking at Li Xuan for a while before dragging a folding chair to sit down beside the bed. She placed the envelope on the bedside table, remained silent for a few seconds, and then spoke: "Thank you for finally stopping the Corpse King. If it had escaped, I would have been held responsible."

Li Xuan replied, "It's what I should do. After all, I know how much harm it would cause if it escaped, especially since tens of thousands of people live on the other side of the tunnel. By the way, what about the casualties this time?"

"The entire 20-man squad that remained at the entrance of Tunnel No. 7 was killed, and the number of casualties reported from other locations exceeded 100."

"More than a hundred," Li Xuan repeated the number. He thought to himself: Compared to the thousands of people in my dream memories, this is already very good. It seems that my injuries were worth it.

Li Xuan closed his eyes, then opened them again after a moment. "This Corpse King can already command such a large horde of corpses. If it escapes, far more people will die than just this hundred."

Lieutenant Colonel Han did not answer immediately. She looked down at the envelope in her hand for a moment before speaking: "I made a mistake. If I had been more cautious, after confirming the existence of the Corpse King, I should have directly requested heavy firepower support from above. Some casualties could have been avoided. This was a command error on my part, and I will apply to my superiors for disciplinary action afterward."

"Your assessment at the time was correct. Requesting heavy artillery without solid evidence would take a long time to process. And if we really used heavy artillery, the Zombie King wouldn't die—it would retreat before the shells hit. Those tunnel complexes are far longer than expected; heavy artillery can't reach the deepest parts. Once it escapes, it will regroup into the horde elsewhere. Hunting it down with light weapons, although more costly, ensures the Zombie King is captured. That cost is worth it."

Lieutenant Colonel Han remained silent for a long time. Then she nodded—not in a convincing way, but in a way that confirmed something.

"Take good care of yourself. The cleanup should be finished in two or three days." She stood up, turned, and walked towards the tent exit. She paused at the tent flap, but didn't turn back. "Thank you."

She lifted the curtain and disappeared into the afternoon sunlight.

After Lieutenant Colonel Han left, a middle-aged man wearing glasses walked in, followed by a young secretary carrying a briefcase. He introduced himself as Zhou, the local coordinator sent by the provincial emergency command center to oversee this cross-regional joint cleanup operation, and who had previously worked at the provincial emergency management department. His suit sleeves were stained with mud, and his leather shoes had a layer of fine dust on them, suggesting he had just returned from another site.

"Comrade Li Xuan, I've come to visit you on behalf of the Provincial Emergency Command Center." He stood by the hospital bed, his tone slightly gentler than Lieutenant Colonel Han's, but equally devoid of unnecessary formalities. "The results of this operation have been reported, and the higher-ups are taking it very seriously. It wasn't just about clearing an area; more importantly, it confirmed the existence of high-level mutants—information that has reference value for adjusting defense strategies across the province and even the entire country. Furthermore, your judgment and actions at crucial moments played a decisive role in the victory of the entire campaign."

Li Xuan shook his head: "The decisive factor was not me, but everyone's efforts. I just did what I was supposed to do."

Commissioner Zhou paused, then said a few more words about taking care of himself and noting if he needed anything, before leaving with his secretary. Li Xuan noticed the mud on his clothes and felt a surge of respect for this middle-aged man from the provincial capital.

After Commissioner Zhou left, Lieutenant Colonel Han also took his leave. Visitors arrived one after another. First, Old Ma came in with a lunchbox, placing the food on the bedside table. He said it was a special meal for patients prepared separately by the cooks—a well-cooked meat porridge with an egg on top. He pushed the lunchbox towards Li Xuan, stood by the bed for a while, and said, "You're tough; even the King of Hell won't take you," his voice a little hoarse.

Xiao Zhou placed a new short knife on the bedside table, saying he'd found it in the supply depot. Although it wasn't as good as the broken Tang sword, the blade had been water-quenched and was usable. After placing the knife, he stepped aside, head down, silent, his fingers unconsciously tracing the scratches on the gun barrel. While changing his bandages, Xiao Liu muttered incessantly, saying his penetrating abdominal wound had almost damaged his internal organs, and that even the strongest body shouldn't be so reckless. His voice grew softer towards the end, and when he finally removed and rewrapped the bandages, his movements were several times slower than usual, his fingers still trembling slightly. Old Ma nudged him from the side: "Alright, that's enough, or you'll make him faint."

Finally, the last to arrive was the captain of the armed police squadron from the neighboring county, surnamed Zhao. He was in charge of the city's outer defenses for this cross-county support operation. He stood ramrod straight in front of the hospital bed and saluted Li Xuan.

"Comrade Li Xuan, thank you. If it weren't for you blocking the tunnel entrance, those zombies would have rushed into the old city. I, the person in charge of the outer defense, would be a sinner for all time. The old city is home to tens of thousands of people. If those openings had really been breached, the consequences would have been unimaginable. On behalf of all the residents of the old city, I express my gratitude to you."

Li Xuan shook his head. "It wasn't just my achievement. The guard team at the entrance of Tunnel No. 7 risked their lives to hold them off for the first few minutes. Without them, I wouldn't have been able to hold out until reinforcements arrived. They deserve to be remembered."

Old Zhao was silent for a few seconds, then saluted again and said, "They are heroes." He then turned and walked out.

After everyone left, the tent finally quieted down. Li Xuan leaned against the pillow, staring at the dim light bulb on the tent ceiling. His life force field continued to heal his wounds, and a series of fine, stabbing pains emanated from the penetrating wound in his waist and abdomen. His body was slowly recovering, but his mind couldn't stop. The battle was over, and he finally had time to go over some things he hadn't had time to think about before.

The timing doesn't match. That's the biggest problem. On another timeline, this hunt took place six months after the cataclysm. At that time, both zombies and humans were testing each other. Initial conflicts were minor; zombie hordes wouldn't easily gather, and humans wouldn't rashly launch large-scale cleanup operations. Both sides cautiously approached each other, probing each other's strengths through repeated small-scale clashes. The Zombie King spent a long time slowly testing the strength of the human defenses, and humans also took a long time to realize that special individuals among the zombies had emerged who could command hordes.

But this time was different. His intelligence had accelerated the cleanup process, making the hunt six months earlier than in the other timeline. The zombie horde hadn't fully evolved, and humanity hadn't accumulated enough experience; both sides were prematurely thrust into the decisive battle. Therefore, the thousands who perished in the previous life weren't due to command errors, but because the battle dragged on for too long. The Zombie King learned human tactics through prolonged probing, while humanity grew exhausted from the prolonged attrition. In the end, when the Zombie King realized something was wrong and concentrated all its elite forces for a breakout, humanity's defenses were already at their limit. This time, it was a hunt from the start. Humanity wasn't slowly figuring out how to cope; instead, they actively tightened the noose. The Zombie King had no time to learn, and humanity had no time to tire. A swift victory meant a lower cost.

Those details he couldn't understand before suddenly made sense. He remembered the records: the commander of that battle wasn't court-martialed afterward, but instead volunteered to be transferred to the most dangerous front lines, where he died shortly afterward. At the time, he found it strange—if it was truly a decision-making error that led to the deaths of thousands, shouldn't someone be held accountable? He thought it was due to the chaotic management in the early post-apocalyptic world, or something else entirely. Now he understood. Post-war analysis revealed the existence of the Zombie King, confirming the true significance of that battle and the commander's judgment—that it must be preserved—was correct. The deaths of thousands weren't due to a decision-making error, but rather, in the absence of complete information, they used their lives to verify crucial intelligence. The commander wasn't punished because she hadn't done anything wrong. But the punishment came from herself—she couldn't overcome her own inner conflict.

What was Lieutenant Colonel Han thinking when she applied to be transferred to the most dangerous front lines? She carried the weight of thousands of lives, walking alone at the forefront of those zombie-infested ruins. Perhaps she never intended to return alive. Just now, standing before his bedside, she said, "Those who died didn't have to die," her tone as formal as when reporting mission data, but her fingers gripping the envelope were tighter than usual. How long did she agonize over her decision before applying for the front lines? Will she make the same decision this time?

He remembered her last words, "Thank you." Those two words were soft, but their weight on his heart was immense. In the dream, no one could tell her, "You didn't make any wrong decisions." Now, he spoke them for her. Perhaps things would be different. Not about the war, but about people. Those who walked into the ruins with regret and self-blame on another timeline might be able to continue with peace this time.

Outside the tent, Fourth Uncle was sitting on a stone by the door, his head down, working on a tightly pressed cowhide. He had started making it the day Li Xuan was injured. When he saw Li Xuan covered in wounds, he wondered if Li Xuan would have been spared such severe injuries if he had made the cowhide into armor earlier.

He cut the leather into the shape of armor, his fingers barely moving as the leather silently changed shape. He didn't speak, only lowered his head, adjusting the armor's curves meticulously, ensuring every inch conformed to Li Xuan's body. He then crafted bull horns into plates of varying sizes, tightly fitting them to the armor's key areas to enhance its defensive capabilities. He also incorporated gold and platinum to increase its durability. A golden suit of armor slowly took shape, attracting a large crowd of onlookers. Some murmured excitedly, "So this is how you use metal powers?"

Uncle Si never looked up. He inserted the last piece of ox horn armor into the breastplate, gently running his finger along the edge of the plate to ensure every seam was perfectly fitted. Then he patted the dust off the armor, folded it neatly on his knees, and continued working on the remaining leather. The onlookers gradually dispersed, leaving only the setting sun slowly sinking below the mountain ridge, bathing the entire county in a quiet golden-red hue.