Doomsday Cognition Guide

Li Xuan's recovery speed surprised even himself. His life force field continued to operate, and the newly formed tissues were filling the gaps in his wounds at a visible pace. By the morning of the third day, he was able to sit up while holding onto the edge of the bed, and by the afternoon he could get out of bed and take a few steps. Although his steps were still a little unsteady, with each lap he took, his legs gained strength. By the morning of the fourth day, he was able to walk back and forth in the open space outside the tent, breathing in the crisp air and watching the lingering morning mist on the distant mountain ridge.

When the middle-aged doctor came for rounds, he circled around him twice, unwrapped the bandages to check the wound's healing, pushed up his glasses, and looked incredulous. Before the doctor could speak, Li Xuan said, "My special ability is to speed up recovery." The doctor paused for a few seconds, his lips moved as if he wanted to ask something, but ultimately he shook his head and wrote a few lines on the medical record. In the following days, when the doctor came for rounds, he didn't ask any more questions, but he would write a few extra lines each time he made his notes.

The recovery was rapid, but the cost was high. His appetite nearly doubled, and the cooks prepared special meals for him every day: two large bowls of minced meat porridge and four steamed buns for breakfast, a full lunchbox of stewed meat and potatoes for lunch, and a pot of bone broth for dinner. Every time Old Ma brought him food, he couldn't help but grumble, saying that his appetite was almost equivalent to half the cooks'. Li Xuan didn't explain, but simply ate every meal clean. The energy needed for the accelerated repair of his life force field didn't come from nowhere; every inch of new tissue growth consumed his body's reserves. The food was quickly broken down, absorbed, and converted into nutrients needed for repair, and hunger was always a constant companion.

During the recovery process, the newly formed tissue gave him a strange feeling. While one cannot directly control their internal organs and deep fascia with their mind, the new muscle fibers growing under the influence of the life force field were different—he could vaguely sense their location, not a vague "body presence," but a more precise connection. He tried to individually contract a few fibers around the wound; they actually moved slightly, very faintly, like touching the edge of a feather with a fingertip, disappearing as soon as he relaxed.

This discovery made him ponder one thing repeatedly during his days of recovery: perhaps he had always underestimated the Life Field ability. His entire understanding of this ability came from the rumors surrounding the Undying Dragon Emperor—a fifth-tier being, requiring several sixth-tier powerhouses to kill him, possessing an abnormally powerful regenerative ability bordering on immortality. The prevailing view at the time was that the Undying Dragon Emperor possessed at least two or three abilities, with the Life Field being merely the least noticeable one; its true core lay in its super-regeneration, steel body, and flight. Its crystal core was bought at a high price by a seventh-tier expert, who ultimately failed to absorb it, supposedly because he wanted to absorb the Steel Body ability. But now, after personally experiencing the subtle characteristics revealed by the Life Field during its repair process, he had a completely different hypothesis: the Undying Dragon Emperor might have only ever possessed one ability. If the life force field can actively control the vibration frequency of newly formed tissues, and proactively increase muscle density, bone hardness, and fascia elastic modulus after strengthening the entire body, then the so-called "steel body" is not another superpower at all, but simply the same ability manifested at different levels. If the life force field can precisely control the vibration frequency of various parts of the body, then flight is merely a natural effect achieved after resonating with the air. If this hypothesis is correct, then the life force field is far more than just an auxiliary ability that accelerates recovery; it may be the one closest to the essence of life among all enhancement-type superpowers—not passively accelerating healing, but actively controlling the body's structure. Experts in the past life judged that the Undying Dragon Emperor grew from an ordinary creature into a fifth-tier mutated beast in just a few years. If we consider the cave salamander's habit of hibernating for several years after eating its fill under natural conditions, its actual growth time might only be three or four years. Three or four years, from zero to fifth tier, with only one superpower—if the life force field is really as he imagined, this speed is not surprising at all.

As the wound healed and the new tissue gradually synchronized with the old, the faint sense of connection slowly faded. By the sixth day, the skin around the wound was almost indistinguishable from the surrounding area, and the ability to perceive individual fibers had completely disappeared. He quickly realized the reason: it was the assimilation ability. The assimilation ability was continuously at work, constantly correcting the newly formed tissue with its frequency differences, eventually unifying it completely with the rest of his body. So it wasn't that his life force field had weakened, but rather that the assimilation ability had erased that difference. As for why he had never noticed it before—because the injuries were all minor, healing too quickly, the assimilation process was already completed while the new tissue still carried differences, leaving no opportunity to perceive any abnormality. This time, the injury was severe enough, and the recovery time was long enough, allowing him to catch this clue.

During his recovery, people came to visit him one after another. Old Ma brought him meals every day, sometimes staying a little longer to recount the recent changes in the mess hall's food. Once, Xiao Zhou brought a new pair of leg wraps, placed them on the bedside table, and then stood aside for a while before leaving. When Xiao Liu changed his dressings, his words shifted from worry to amazement at his incredible recovery, and his hand movements became more and more steady each day. Old Zhao from the armed police squadron in the neighboring county came once, bringing a box of tea, saying it was specially sent by a survivor from the old town who had heard of his injury. Lieutenant Colonel Han came twice during the break between shifts; the first time was when he saw him walking outside the tent while passing the medical station, surprised by his recovery speed; the second time was after the final tasks were completed, a personal farewell.

Uncle Si has been busy these past few days collecting the steel bars that were previously placed at the tunnel entrance and sewer openings. He had welded in those spiral spikes and crisscrossing meshes one by one using his supernatural abilities, and now he had to remove them one by one, straighten them again, and bundle them up to load onto the truck. Old Ma was helping him move the steel bars, and seeing the materials that had been bent and straightened by the tyrant, he said these were considered "honorable materials" and should be properly stored away. Uncle Si nodded in agreement, his hands never stopping. Every day after work, he would come to the medical station to sit for a while, sometimes bringing a few cans of fruit, sometimes empty-handed, sitting beside the hospital bed organizing the throwing knife sheaths. After Li Xuan was able to get out of bed and walk around, he no longer needed to spend the night by the bedside, but he still came every evening on time.

On the afternoon of the fourth day, Uncle Si lifted the tent flap and came in, carrying the completed suit of armor. He placed the armor by the bed and unzipped it to show Li Xuan the texture of the inner leather. Li Xuan sat up in bed, picked up the armor, and examined it—the leather was very densely pressed, the cow horn plates were embedded in the key areas, and the seams were perfectly fitted. The entire suit of armor had a dull, grayish-brown tone, the natural color of the tanned cowhide, without any unnecessary decoration. From the time he was injured until now, it had only been seven days at most. Just pressing the cowhide to its densest state would have taken several days, not to mention cutting, sewing, and embedding the plates; every step could not be rushed. The fact that it could be completed in such a short time could only mean one thing: Uncle Si had spent all his time these past few days, except for recycling steel bars, on this suit of armor, probably not sleeping more than a few hours a day.

He put it on and tried it on, stretched his shoulders, and bent down to touch his knees. "It fits pretty well. It's just that the color is a bit tacky."

Fourth Uncle, who had been leaning against the foot of the bed waiting for his evaluation, raised an eyebrow upon hearing this. "You should be grateful to have anything to wear, why are you being so picky?"

Li Xuan didn't reply, just smiled, trying to ease the tension. His fourth uncle snorted, patted him on the shoulder, and added, "When my ability control becomes more refined, I can try incorporating yellow dye to make the color look better and also increase its durability."

Uncle Si didn't say anything more. He rolled the remaining scraps into a bundle, tucked it under his arm, and turned to leave. When he reached the door, his lips twitched slightly, and he lifted the curtain to go out.

By the seventh day, the cleanup operation was nearing completion. Without the Zombie King's command, the remaining scattered zombies were systematically eliminated by the various squads, and the threat to the entire city was essentially gone. The troops began organizing their equipment, and the support squads were also taking inventory of personnel and supplies, preparing for a phased withdrawal. Before the withdrawal, Lieutenant Colonel Han convened a brief debriefing meeting at the high-speed rail station plaza. She briefly reported on the tactical data and results of the operation, then proactively mentioned the casualties at the entrance of Tunnel No. 7. She stated that after confirming the Zombie King's existence, she hadn't promptly requested heavy firepower support, a decision she considered a mistake that led to unnecessary sacrifices. She would submit a complete operation report and self-criticism to her superiors upon her return.

After she finished speaking, she closed the paper in her hand and stood up straight.

A moment of silence fell over the audience. Not the kind of awkward silence, but a silence as everyone processed her words—she was publicly apologizing. She was the tactical commander of this operation; the entire battle plan, from its formulation to its adjustments to its final execution, rested on her shoulders, and everyone had witnessed it. Without her command, this hunt could not have been executed so brilliantly. Yet now, standing on the stage, the first thing she mentioned wasn't the victory, but her own mistakes.

Someone in the queue subconsciously shifted their feet, their boots scraping softly on the concrete. Some lowered their heads, not out of agreement, but to hide their expression. Many more stood ramrod straight, their gazes fixed on her, lips pressed tightly together, Adam's apple bobbing as if something was stuck in their throats, swallowed back down. Old Ma, standing next to Li Xuan, nudged him with his elbow and whispered, "What does she have to apologize for?" This wasn't a question, but rather a statement of indignation on her behalf. Several people nearby nodded slightly; no one spoke, but that silence itself was an expression of their stance.

Li Xuan didn't reply. He stood in the line, watching Lieutenant Colonel Han neatly close the paper in her hand and salute everyone. Her expression was no different from when she first assigned tasks on the podium—calm, efficient, and without any superfluous emotions. But he noticed that when she saluted, her fingers were pressed together more tightly than usual, and her fingertips were slightly white.

The square was quiet for a moment, and then the teams began to board the vehicles in order.

As the convoy withdrew, it passed a plaza near the high-speed rail station. Li Xuan leaned back in the passenger seat, looking out the window at the large open space marked out beside the plaza. Several construction teams were laying foundations, concrete mixer trucks were parked along the roadside, and workers in hard hats moved back and forth among the scaffolding. Steel and precast concrete slabs were neatly stacked, and a row of temporary prefabricated houses stood at the edge of the site, smoke billowing from their chimneys. This scene brought back memories from another timeline. In the history he had experienced, this county town was rebuilt into a medium-sized survival base after the disaster, capable of accommodating hundreds of thousands of people. With its existing high-speed rail station and tunnel complex, the county town was perfectly suited for conversion into a medium-sized base. Their county town settlement, however, was disbanded more than a year after the disaster. Most survivors were incorporated into this medium-sized base, while a small number went to the larger base in the provincial capital. He was one of those few who rejoined the army at that large base, met the veteran who had retired from the special forces, systematically learned the power generation system of traditional Chinese martial arts, and began to truly embark on the path of cultivation. But this life is different. The base here began construction more than half a year earlier, and once completed, it will likely absorb the population of several surrounding counties much sooner. In other words, the small base in his hometown might disband sooner than in his previous life, or it might not even exist for that long anymore. The butterfly effect is changing the survival landscape of the entire region in ways he cannot predict.

He processed these thoughts in his mind, then looked away and leaned back in his chair. The boundary between the new and old organizations was now completely blurred, and the faint sense of control had vanished entirely, but his assessment of the life force field was more certain than it had been a few days ago. Once back, he needed to re-plan the evolutionary path of his clone. Originally, he had planned to find an electric eel for the clone to absorb and assimilate, then undergo a second assimilation with the clone to gain some lightning abilities. But now it seemed that reclaiming the life force field completely from the clone was a higher priority. If the life force field truly had a significant auxiliary effect on internal energy cultivation and even internal energy cultivation, increasing control over the body, then its long-term value far exceeded that of lightning abilities; after all, cultivation was about gradually regaining control of the body. Lightning could wait; the potential of the life force field had to be verified first.

The ruins outside the window were quiet in the afternoon sun. Uncle Si drove, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, humming that old song that was always out of tune. The armor on the back seat gleamed faintly with a silvery-gray sheen from the bumps, the edges of the plates undulating gently with the swaying of the vehicle. In the distance, on the horizon, new sentry towers were being erected, and sparks from the welding torches of the construction team flickered in the dust.