Zone 3A-Δ – First Floor – Training Hall
Not scattered. Not waiting. Already inside — seated, standing, watching — like they knew this wasn’t going to be a casual update.
Xu Lin sat with his back straight on the left row of benches, one hand resting on his knee. Beside him, Wen Qiming leaned forward, fingers laced, expression still and unreadable. His seven university militia were positioned around him — a loose cluster of faces that had stopped being students and started looking like survivors.
Across the room, Zhou Xue crouched near the training mat, fletching an arrow from one of the newer shafts I’d seen Old Zhou prepping. Deng Hua and Chen Xun were on either side of her, listening as she explained something, her voice low and precise.
Liang Qiu stood near the wall-mounted racks, arms behind her back, posture stiff. But her eyes kept flicking toward me, then toward Liang Mei, who now sat on a padded stool near the med supply locker.
She looked better today.
Clearer. Shoulders back. Sweater fresh. She tied her hair in a half-loop behind her neck. She didn’t fidget. Didn’t shrink. But when I met her gaze, she smiled — soft, warm, grateful. And didn’t look away.
Mu Qinglan stood not far from the central post, one hand on the bench for support. She wasn’t limping openly, but her gait gave her away. She hadn’t changed clothes from this morning — still in her flexible combat bodysuit, slightly wrinkled.
Some of the other women gave her sideways glances, quiet ones. Not mocking — curious. Roulan stood beside her, arms folded, her expression unreadable.
Shen Yifei sat half-perched on the edge of a weight bench, spear across her thighs, twintails tied up tight. She watched me without blinking.
Tang Wei stood to my right, near the command table.
The air in the room had weight now.
Like everyone knew, this moment was the beginning of something bigger.
I let the silence stretch a second longer.
Then I stepped forward and said clearly:
"We move tomorrow. Two teams. Exploration and home defence."
No one reacted. Not yet.
"The mall in Zone 3C is the objective. We’ll scout it, clear it, and recover what we can."
Now they have shifted. Zhou Xue’s head rose slightly. Qiming leaned forward. Even Xu Lin’s brow tightened.
I glanced at Roulan, then at Tang Wei, then finally at Mu Qinglan.
She met my eyes and didn’t look away.
"We’ll assign squads. Team leaders. Roles. If you have doubts, speak now."
And began to call names.
I didn’t speak again.
Tang Wei stepped up beside me, straight-backed in her stripped-down combat fatigues. Her eyes scanned the crowd once, then dropped to her notepad — the one she’d written out by hand this morning, filled with neat lines and checklists that didn’t need decoration.
"We’re forming two teams," she said, her voice low but carrying.
"Team One: John Wang, myself, Jiang Roulan, Shen Yifei."
Roulan glanced toward me once, then forward again. Calm. Controlled. Ready.
Yifei let out a low whistle and tapped her spear against the floor like a tail flick.
"Team Two: Mu Qinglan, Zhou Xue, Deng Hua, Liang Qiu, Chen Xun."
Qinglan didn’t react, but her grip on the bench tightened. I caught the twitch at the corner of her mouth. Not quite a smirk. Not quite a frown.
She knew what it meant — and so did the others.
They were trusting her to lead.
But the issue came with separating us. Qinglan looked at me, and her eyes transmitted all her feelings before she turned away and bit her lips.
Tang Wei looked at me, a silent check for confirmation.
I gave her a slow nod.
"Team One will drop through the roof access. Team Two will secure the upper levels and roof while providing extraction oversight. We keep both doors open. We cover each other. If contact escalates beyond Stage One threats, fallback protocols apply. You follow your team leads. You stay quiet. You survive."
A quiet shuffle from the crowd.
Then a voice, thin, male, early twenties maybe. One of the older people who joined Wen Qiming’s group. "Are we staying here to defend while you’re out?"
Tang Wei answered before I did. "Correct. Qiming and his unit will oversee base defence with Xu Lin, Old Zhou, and Liu Jiemin being in charge during absences. Your orders come directly from Qiming, unless overridden by John."
Qiming didn’t flinch. Just nodded once.
Another voice piped up — older this time, female, one of the lower-floor residents. "What if the building’s attacked?"
Tang Wei met her gaze.
"There are several evacuation plans written in the second training room. You follow evacuation pattern two. Roulan’s mapped every stairwell. You retreat floor by floor — fallback point is the emergency vault on B1."
Someone near the back whispered, "We have an emergency vault?"
Roulan finally spoke, folding her arms.
A few people chuckled — nervous, but relieved.
Tang Wei glanced sideways again — one brow raised in silent report.
And then stepped forward.
Just enough to be heard.
"I know you might be tired, worried or scared. But with the help of Old Zhou who is helping craft armour to protect you from zombie bites and weapons to slay them. We will never send you to death like pigs to slaughter."
"Focus on your daily practise and I will do everything to keep you and your families safe."
The room went still again, not out of fear, but focus. The negative aura and words vanished, and it seemed they preferred this honest type of feedback.
I couldn’t become their friend, but I refused to become a cold dictator or tyrant who made them feel like numbers.
’It’s hard... I should try getting a skill that helps me.’
Leadership seemed to have its limits and was more designed for small groups at most.
Behind them, Mu Qinglan shifted her weight with a quiet grunt — one hand resting on her side, still sore, still walking with a limp. But her eyes stayed sharp as glass. I knew she was upset, the way she bit the corner of her lips and looked at me while wincing.
I swept a slow glance across the room.
Faces. Tired. Scarred. Hungry for something real to hold onto.
They weren’t just survivors anymore.
And I wouldn’t waste a single one.
"Those who fight will be trained. Those who work will be protected. And those who bleed for us will never be forgotten."
No one spoke — not yet.
So I gave them something to hold on to.
"Today, you prepare."
I paused — the weight of silence pressing against my words.
"Tomorrow... we claim the mall."
Zhou Xue stiffened slightly, like she hadn’t expected me to announce it so openly.
But the silence held.
Until one of Wen Qiming’s people — a lanky kid with wire-rim glasses and a scratch on his cheek — raised a hand halfway.
"Because it’s close," I said. "And if we don’t take it — someone else will."
I also thought of something else, so I told them. "The mall opens up the south, the east and the biggest residential area in the city... some people might want to find family, and the hope for survivors... That’s why."
"Get food. Get water. Get ready."
Then turned away, walking toward the exit.
I could feel the air behind me move — people turning to one another, questions rising, plans forming. Roulan and Tang would sort them.
It was all in motion now.
And when the door hissed shut behind me, I let the quiet settle.
Just like everything else in our path.
The biggest issue for me right now was the blonde bombshell rushing up behind me, and the cold, angry queen limping against the wall.
Shen Yifei and Mu Qinglan...
What do they want from me now?