At 2:35 PM, the sunlight was sliced into fragmented, cold phosphorescence by the dense canopy, spilling into the primeval forest belt known as "Silent Woods," sixty kilometers away.
A charred military helicopter, its wings twisted like withered limbs, was wedged diagonally into the soft earth. A drone's lens faithfully transmitted the image of the wreckage back to the Gymnasium—the headquarters' command center. Without any hesitation, Lin Xuan decisively issued an order: a six-man Black Watch search squad must recover the black box in the shortest time possible.
2:50 PM.
The low roar of rotors shattered the forest's deathly silence. The black helicopter hovered twenty meters above the ground. The moment the cabin door opened, six fully armed Black Watch Soldiers wearing gas masks filed out. Their movements were eerily synchronized; they held their rifles steady against their chests with one hand while gripping the descent ropes with the other, the tactical buckles at their waists emitting a crisp metallic friction sound.
Landing, releasing ropes, spreading out to search. The entire process involved no wasted words, only tactical hand signals flashing through the trees.
2:56 PM.
In just six minutes, the squad had cleared over a dozen zombies in tattered military uniforms wandering around the fuselage. The soldier codenamed "Gardener" moved most efficiently; he used a multi-purpose bayonet to pry open the deformed cockpit canopy and yanked out the orange-red metal cube—the black box.
"Recovery complete. Evacuate," the team leader's cold voice crackled over the comms channel.
The extraction helicopter quickly lowered its ropes. The team members immediately attached their hooks and were lifted into the air.
Just as Gardener handed the black box to a teammate on a hook and prepared to clip himself on, a sudden change occurred!
From the rotting bushes on the left, a grey afterimage lunged out like lightning. It was a "Mutant" with thighs mutated to an absurd degree, its skin completely stripped away to reveal dark red muscle fibers pulsing with morbid explosive power. It let out a shrill scream and tackled Gardener directly to the ground.
Gardener's back slammed heavily against the sharp edge of the wreckage, but behind his gas mask, his eyes didn't even blink. He didn't try to push away the bloody maw dripping with foul-smelling saliva; instead, he rolled backward with the momentum of the pounce, while his right hand instantly drew the pistol from his outer thigh and pressed it against the monster's jaw.
Bang!
Dark red fluid splattered across Gardener's tactical helmet. He kicked the monster's corpse away and was about to reach for the rope again when he noticed countless hollow, hungry eyes rapidly approaching from the shadows in the surroundings.
The team members on the helicopter were firing frantically to suppress them, but more infected surged out from the depths of the forest.
"Go!" Gardener shouted upward, his voice devoid of fear, containing only absolute logic. "Mission priority."
The helicopter didn't hesitate for a second. The engine gave a heavy roar, and it rapidly ascended with the other five members and the black box, disappearing into the clouds. In the eyes of Black Watch, any individual was an expendable asset for the sake of achieving the mission objective.
Gardener stood atop the ruins and gave a military salute to the receding silhouette. Then, he turned around, and the rifle in his hand let out its final roar.
Puff, puff, puff—!
Out of ammo, he discarded the rifle like a piece of useless scrap metal. Gardener pulled out his pistol, sending every bullet precisely into the forehead of a zombie. When only one round remained in the magazine, he had already gripped the gleaming tactical dagger in a reverse hold, prepared for the inevitable, fatal melee.
Just then, several rugged gunshots rang out from the flank.
"Bang, bang! Brother, run toward us!"
Two middle-aged men—one in faded camouflage and the other in a heavy leather jacket—were firing homemade shotguns and old hunting rifles frantically at the zombie horde.
Gardener's brain made a judgment within 0.1 seconds: these two civilians represented a potential chance for survival. Without hesitation, he sheathed his dagger and, using their suppressive fire as cover, darted through the woods like a lithe black panther, quickly closing in on them.
"Quick! Come with us!"
After the three met up, led by the two men, they ducked into a hidden sewage pipe, traversed a foul-smelling tunnel, and finally arrived at a bridge culvert spanning a dried-up riverbed.
The culvert had been crudely reinforced with wooden planks and iron sheets into a makeshift dwelling, its door covered in sharp nails and rusty barbed wire.
"Huff, huff... Xiao Li, we're back, open the door!" The man in the leather jacket panted heavily while pounding on the door.
The peephole on the iron door slid open, revealing a pair of wary eyes, followed by a flurry of clanking chains. The door opened.
A delicate-looking girl in her early twenties stood behind the door. She wore an oversized hoodie that didn't fit, clutching a sharpened rebar tightly in her hand, her eyes filled with unease.
"That's great, Brother, you're finally back... Who is this?" Xiao Li's gaze fell upon Gardener, who was clad in all black and exuded an aura of slaughter; she couldn't help but take a step back.
"Uh, this is someone we just ran into," the man in camouflage said, wiping sweat from his face. "We saw him surrounded by those monsters and brought him back."
Gardener didn't speak. He simply nodded.
The space inside was even more cramped than it looked from the outside. The air was a mix of damp vapor, stale mildew, and a sour stench caused by long-term lack of ventilation. The walls were covered in old newspapers and plastic sheets in an attempt to block the cold wind seeping through the cracks.
After the three entered, Zhou Yang pulled shut the heavy iron door welded with rebar. With the crisp sound of chains locking, the roars outside were partitioned off by a thin layer of metal.
Zhou Xili, also known as Xiao Li, somewhat awkwardly poured three cups of pale yellow warm water from a chipped thermos. She walked up to Gardener and handed him the cup with both hands, her fingers turning slightly white from tension.
Gardener didn't take it immediately. His eyes first scanned the room—the piles of clutter in the corners, the crude cots, and the several homemade firearms leaning against the wall. Only after confirming there was no immediate threat did he raise his hand and take the cup.
His fingers were long and covered in thick calluses, with several fresh, unhealed wounds on his knuckles.
"Thank you," Gardener's voice was low and mechanical, devoid of any fluctuation.
He raised his other hand and unlatched his tactical helmet. With a slight hiss of pressure release, he slowly removed the helmet.
What was revealed was a face with sharp features. Due to long-term wear of the gas mask and helmet, his skin had an unhealthy paleness, but this paleness only emphasized the heroic air between his brows. At twenty-nine, he was at a man's most resolute age; there was no confusion in his eyes, only an absolute calmness born from countless slaughters.
He lifted the cup and drained the warm water in one gulp. The sound of his Adam's apple bobbing was exceptionally clear in the silent culvert.
The room fell into an awkward silence. Zhou Yang and Gao Yuan glanced at each other, both seeing the unease in the other's eyes. The man before them, though young, exuded an aura that was practically suffocating.
Finally, Zhou Yang coughed twice, trying to break the frozen air.
"Uh... Brother, I'm Zhou Yang, this is my friend, Gao Yuan. And that... is my sister, Zhou Xili." Zhou Yang pointed to the people beside him, a fawning smile squeezed onto his face.
Standing to the side, Zhou Xili lowered her head and added softly, "Just call me Xiao Li."
Gardener set down the empty cup, his gaze lingering on their faces for less than a second.
"You can call me Gardener."
His voice remained cold, a greeting devoid of a proper introduction. This codename seemed to imply a "Gardener who prunes a rotting world," but to these civilians, it sounded strange and mysterious.
"Uh... Brother Gardener," Gao Yuan couldn't help but speak up. He rubbed his hands together, an expectant look in his eyes. "Looking at your gear and that marksmanship just now... you must be from the regular army, right? Did the government send you for disaster relief?"
"Yes," Gardener nodded, answering succinctly. He didn't explain the difference between them and the traditional regular army; to these civilians, it was meaningless.
Hearing this affirmative answer, a startling light erupted in Zhou Yang and Gao Yuan's cloudy eyes—the madness of seeing a lifeline in the midst of despair.
"That's great! Brother, we finally don't have to stay in this hellhole anymore!" There was a hint of a sob in her voice.
"Rude! Xiao Li, don't interrupt!" Although Zhou Yang was scolding his sister, the joy on his face couldn't be hidden. He looked at Gardener urgently. "Sorry, Brother Gardener, she's just too excited. So... where is the unit now? When will the reclamation of F City begin? How can we cooperate with you?"
This information was not for him to know. Gardener looked at Zhou Yang's hopeful face and slowly shook his head without speaking.
This gesture was like a bucket of ice water poured over the trio's enthusiasm. The atmosphere in the culvert fell back into a deathly awkwardness. Zhou Yang opened his mouth, but in the end, he could only sigh dejectedly and swallow his words.
"Let's... let's not talk about this for now. It's getting dark; let's eat something." Zhou Yang waved his hand, signaling Zhou Xili to prepare.
Zhou Xili nodded and hurried toward the crude kitchen built of bricks. She carefully took two long-treasured cans of luncheon meat from a hidden compartment and fished out a few wilting wild greens from a basin. In this apocalypse, canned meat was a luxury more precious than gold, but to host this unexpected guest, they were clearly showing their utmost hospitality.
The sound of a spatula clanking came from the kitchen. Before long, an aroma mixing the scent of fat and fresh vegetables wafted through the culvert.
Dinner was simple: a pot of stewed meat soup paired with a few pieces of hard compressed biscuits.
Everyone sat around the fire. The flames flickered, reflecting on their faces. Gardener took the bowl handed to him by Zhou Xili, his movements remaining restrained and precise. He ate quickly but without any sign of messiness, as if he maintained a strict military discipline even in such an environment.
Zhou Xili sat diagonally across from Gardener. She held her bowl but barely touched her food, unable to resist stealing glances at him.
Under the firelight, Gardener's ruggedly handsome profile appeared exceptionally deep. His nose was high, and his jawline was as sharp as if carved by a knife. The indifference and strength radiating from his core held a fatal attraction for a woman struggling in the apocalypse and desperately lacking a sense of security.
Sensing Zhou Xili's gaze, Gardener turned his head slightly, his emotionless green eyes sweeping over.
Startled, Zhou Xili quickly lowered her head, her heart racing like a panicked deer, her cheeks flushing even redder in the firelight.
"Um... Big Brother Gardener, you... please eat more." Her voice was as soft as a mosquito's buzz.
Gardener didn't respond, simply continuing to chew the meat in his mouth.
He set down his bowl and glanced at the night outside.
"I'll keep watch tonight."
His voice rang out in the dark culvert. Zhou Yang was stunned for a moment, then nodded repeatedly in gratitude.
As for Gardener, he simply leaned quietly against the wall, his hand habitually touching the hilt of the dagger at his waist.
As long as it reached 3:00 PM tomorrow, his ammunition and rifle would refresh on him once again.