The four returned to the room. Ying gave Wang Zhi a handgun. Wang Zhi, holding a real gun for the first time, felt extremely excited inside.
The metal felt heavy and cool, and a pattern of a black rose was imprinted on the gun's body. A faint fragrance still lingered on the weapon.
"This was specially custom-made for me by a German master. After this gun was produced, you are the first person besides my sister to touch it. You must cherish it well; later, when you buy a gun, remember to give it back to me." As Ying spoke, her hand began suggestively stroking Wang Zhi's body, giving him goosebumps.
"Mm! That's fantastic! Sister Ying, teach me how to use it?" Wang Zhi couldn't stop lovingly handling the exquisite handgun.
"What's the hurry? I'm a bit tired. Come rub my legs for me, and I'll teach you later," Ying said, lying on the bed feigning exhaustion.
"Man, Captain Wang, you're really having it good! You've got both the beauty and the gun! Why am I suddenly a little jealous of you?" Fatty watched from the side, nearly drooling.
"Having it good? How about you take a turn?" Wang Zhi said, spreading his hands.
Fatty glanced at Ying lying on the bed, then recalled the time he was almost beaten senseless, and immediately shook his head like a rattle drum.
"Go on, aren't you having it good?" Wang Zhi looked at the shaking Fatty and urged him on.
"No, no, I'd better find Old He. I'm afraid Sister Ying might just shoot me dead this time." Having spoken, Fatty slipped over to Old He's side.
After Fatty left, Wang Zhi approached Ying.
"Sister Ying, shall I begin now?" Wang Zhi asked for confirmation once more.
"Mm," Ying replied with her eyes closed.
This was the first time Wang Zhi had been this close to Ying; through the sheer stockings, he could vaguely see numerous scars, large and small, on her legs. Beauty is inherent in women; did she truly not care?
"What are you looking at? Go on, pinch," Ying lightly kicked the dazed Wang Zhi with her foot.
"Oh, right!" Wang Zhi snapped back to attention and continued the massage.
After Wang Zhi finished massaging Ying's legs and feet, Ying began to teach Wang Zhi.
She taught Wang Zhi the grip method for a handgun, how to disassemble and reload it, aiming techniques, and trigger control skills.
Ying spoke of her own insights, and Wang Zhi listened with great interest.
"That's about it for the handgun; you have to grasp it through actual combat. Coincidentally, I see there's a shooting range here, so you can practice there. Also, use the bullets sparingly; I didn't bring many," Ying finished, handing the handgun over to Wang Zhi.
"Fatty, how much did you learn?" Wang Zhi asked as he approached Fatty.
"Mmm, no problem. Big Brother He's explanations were both professional and easy to understand," Fatty said excitedly.
"Good. Then wait for the two of us to head to the shooting range to train and get a feel for real combat."
"Yes, Captain."
"Alright everyone, rest for six hours first, then we'll all go train together." After speaking, Wang Zhi turned off the lights in the room.
.....
September 17, 2025, Heavy Fog.
After an unknown amount of time, Wang Zhi jolted awake from a nightmare. He dreamed of a figure covered in blood—no, more accurately, a Zombie! It lunged at him, sinking its teeth into his throat.
In the darkness, Wang Zhi fumbled for the Cell Phone in his backpack and checked the date and time; it was 10 AM on the 17th.
Wang Zhi had lost all sense of time now; the cycle of day and night here was dictated entirely by the artificial lights.
The Cell Phone had no signal here; it could only be used as a tool for jotting down notes and taking photos.
Wang Zhi lay on the bed for a moment, then turned on the room light.
"Alright everyone, wake up, time to train," Wang Zhi said.
After everyone was up, the four reappeared in the training hall.
Wang Zhi was heading to the shooting range with Fatty. As for Ying and Old He, they could do as they pleased, since he had nothing to teach them anyway.
Before leaving, Ying directly handed him one hundred bullets!
Wang Zhi stared at the ammunition filling Ying's backpack; this was what she had called 'not many'?
Arriving at the shooting range, Wang Zhi held the handgun Ying had given him. This pistol used the common 9mm round, and one magazine could hold a maximum of nine rounds.
His goal was to empty all 100 rounds.
*Click*, Wang Zhi racked the slide, checked if a round was chambered, and then took off the safety.
Bang!
Wang Zhi fired the first live round of his life.
Ying's gun looked exquisitely compact, but its actual stopping power was greater than he had imagined.
The powerful recoil made the webbing between his thumb and forefinger tingle.
It missed the target; the first shot didn't hit the dummy.
Even though he missed, Wang Zhi's blood still boiled. This was the kind of thrill a man sought; the first shot instantly hooked him.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
After a few more shots, Wang Zhi gradually found his rhythm. A few shots managed to strike the dummy's torso and arms.
Wang Zhi removed the magazine, loading the rounds one by one.
"How was that, Fatty? My shooting is decent, right?"
Wang Zhi turned to ask Fatty, but the moment he finished, he saw several bullet holes peppering the dummy's head and chest, causing him to blush slightly.
"Fatty, your shooting is quite good! Have you practiced before?" Wang Zhi asked, observing Fatty's competent posture.
"Yeah, I loved guns when I was little and bought tons of replica airsoft guns to play with. The feel is almost the same."
He raised his hand and fired a few more shots. Wang Zhi watched Fatty hold the weapon one-handed, as if the gun had no recoil whatsoever in his grip.
After a hundred rounds, Wang Zhi also became proficient. Within 30 meters, while not hitting every shot, hitting 8 out of 10 was no longer an issue.
But he suddenly realized another problem.
If facing a Zombie, effective shooting only counts if it hits the head. Thinking of this, Wang Zhi looked at the dummies on the range. Out of his ten shots, only one hit a head, and that was on a fixed target. Zombies themselves are moving targets; hitting the body is already difficult, and accurately striking the head is even harder.
It seems he still needs to practice hard. These one hundred bullets are not enough for practice. Then the problem resurfaces: won't this waste too much ammunition?
When Wang Zhi browsed the weapon shop previously, he saw 9mm ammunition. The price was 5 Survival Points for 100 rounds. It wasn't especially expensive, making 100 rounds of practice per day acceptable.
When the two finished their bullets, they left the shooting range and returned to find He Ying and Ying, reporting their shooting results. The response they received from both was simply, "Practice more."
Under Old He's guidance, Wang Zhi and Fatty were to start with physical training. Initially, they didn't need to do anything else but run on the treadmill until exhaustion, after which they would lie down and push a barbell for a while.
Meanwhile, Old He and Ying's training regimen was somewhat similar to each other, both focusing on explosive power.
This continued for over four hours. Wang Zhi and Fatty were completely collapsed on the ground. Wang Zhi was faring slightly better, as he was lean, but Fatty had a much harder time. During the first hour of training, he had already thought about quitting, saying he should go work in the industrial zone instead of enduring this torment.
As for why Fatty was still seen collapsed on the ground after four hours, that was purely because Ying kept pacing around them with a dagger, which naturally took away any will they had left.
"Hah, Sister Ying, when you were training before, did your Captain push you like this too?" Wang Zhi asked, gasping heavily on the ground.
"Hehe, pretty much, but I'm the Captain now," Ying said, looking down at Wang Zhi on the floor.
What? This kid was a Captain before? Wang Zhi looked at Ying with some doubt.
"What? Does it look like little brother isn't convinced?" Ying raised her delicate eyebrows, squatted down, and patted Wang Zhi's head as she spoke.
"No, I'm convinced, convinced. It's just, Sister Ying, you're so beautiful, I didn't dare to think in that direction," Wang Zhi voiced his true thoughts.
"Ah, hehe, I think so too," Ying chuckled.
"What's there to not dare think about? Just among those the organization has killed that I know of, there are over a hundred people. She is a globally top-level wanted criminal. If we weren't here, I would have already arrested her," Old He said irritably from the side.
"Oh dear, Uncle, you are so cruel, wanting to arrest someone who is perfectly fine. Besides, you are slightly framing me. We take people's money to resolve their disasters; we are just doing things for money," Ying said pitifully.
"The country has laws; it's not your place to dispense justice!" Old He retorted.
"Oh, but I never saw you guys dispensing justice either?" Ying shot back.
Seeing these two start arguing again, Wang Zhi immediately intervened, "Enough, both of you. Let the past be the past. This isn't outside; this is the Dawn Tower. We are a team, we need to be united. Let's not dwell on previous matters."
After Wang Zhi spoke, Old He gradually calmed down and went back to his training nearby. However, Ying looked at Wang Zhi with an expression of pure innocence and pitiable vulnerability, as if signaling that she was about to cry.
Damn it, why is this girl here instead of being in Hollywood? Wang Zhi grumbled inwardly.
This routine continued for a week. The four of them spent every day eating, resting, practicing shooting, and physical training—it was extremely monotonous.
The food supply for Wang Zhi's group had also been consumed by more than half due to the high-intensity training, severely exceeding their budget. Food meant to last a month now looked like it would be completely depleted in a week at most.
September 24, 2025, Heavy Fog.
Those underground at 200 meters currently had no idea that a global heavy fog had persisted above ground for eight days. After just three days, it had already caused worldwide panic, with various rumors circulating that it was a sign of the apocalypse. Those with foresight had already begun hoarding food supplies, while the government was trying its utmost to control public discourse, only managing to temporarily label it as a normal natural phenomenon.
But only a portion of people believed such an absurd statement. If it were confined to one region, perhaps they would believe it, but continuous heavy fog across the entire globe for several days being classified as a normal natural phenomenon? That was obviously abnormal!
September 25th, 2025. The global fog had still not dissipated, but what was different today was that the mist was exceptionally pungent. Some people who ventured outside were choked into coughing fits, subsequently developing high fevers.
September 26th, 2025. This World had completely changed! Zombies—creatures everyone was familiar with yet now found strange—had appeared in various locations globally, frantically hunting and preying. In just one hour, the majority of humans on the surface had been infected. Cities and villages in every corner of the globe descended into chaos.
At that moment, Wang Zhi, who was exercising, suddenly heard the broadcast: "Attention all personnel, please proceed to the Level 1 conference hall within half an hour. Repeat! Attention all personnel, please proceed to the Level 1 conference hall!"
The Dawn Tower was convening an all-hands meeting!
"What's going on?" Wang Zhi jumped off the treadmill and asked the others.
"Something must have happened; let's go take a look!" Old He said, and the four of them started rushing toward the Level 1 conference hall.