Chapter 142 - 105: Evolution

Chapter 142: Chapter 105: Evolution

Xu Mo saw it clearly. The zombie’s limbs grew longer and more powerful, its torso contracted, and its muscles became streamlined. Even its roars turned sharper and more piercing.

In less than half an hour, it had hunted down and devoured at least ten ordinary zombies.

Finally, after tearing out the throat of the last zombie and greedily slurping its blood, the creature froze. It stood rooted to the spot, its body beginning to heave violently.

It was done.

A new Agile Mutant Zombie had been born. It raised its head to the gloomy, gray sky and let out a long, vicious shriek, announcing its existence.

Xu Mo’s index finger had been resting lightly on the trigger guard, ready to fire again. But after a moment, he hesitated.

’Kill this one... and then what?’

’There are still dozens of ordinary zombies down there. As long as that mutant’s corpse remains, as long as they keep devouring each other, who’s to say a third or even a fourth Agile Zombie won’t be created?’

’What if they create an even more troublesome, unknown type of mutant?’

’By shooting the mutant, it seems like I’m eliminating a threat. But in the long run, am I not just "helping" the horde below with their survival of the fittest? Am I using my bullets to screen for stronger individuals and providing them with a catalyst for evolution?’

’I kill it, and its corpse creates a new one... I kill that one, and another one gets created... Am I just some clown helping them evolve?’ Xu Mo’s brow furrowed. The situation felt both absurd and intractable.

The root of the problem didn’t seem to be the individual that had already evolved, but the cruel evolutionary mechanism among the zombies themselves.

To temporarily stop this evolution at its source, the most direct method would be to completely destroy the mutant zombie’s corpse, leaving them with nothing to devour.

However, from his isolated fortress, Xu Mo had no way to destroy the corpse from a distance.

It seemed there was only one option left, however frustrating: do nothing.

’No wonder my main mission is just to observe and record.’ Xu Mo slowly relaxed his grip on the AWM and pulled the sniper rifle back from the firing port.

He took one last, long look at the newborn Agile Zombie below as it adapted to its new strength, and at the mangled corpse still being eyed by a few timid zombies that didn’t dare approach.

Xu Mo forced himself to look away. He stopped watching the bloody and cruel "crucible" outside and instead turned to carefully place the AWM back on its rack.

After securing the rifle, Xu Mo walked to the empty space in the center of the observation room and slowly assumed the opening stance of the Thirteen Grand Protectors’ Cross Training.

The chaos outside, the zombies’ evolution, the government’s hidden agenda... for now, none of it concerned him.

Having accepted his role as a mere "observer," Xu Mo’s life inside the fortress quickly fell into a routine, as precise and stable as a wind-up clock.

He no longer wasted energy sniping ordinary or even mutated zombies. Every morning and evening, without fail, he performed his breathing exercises, capturing wisps of the Rising Sun Purple Qi to nourish his spirit. The rest of his time was dedicated to long, arduous training.

The training to advance from the Cowhide Realm to the Iron Bone Realm wasn’t just about strengthening his qi and blood; it was a deeper tempering of his physical body. The sturdy fortress walls became the perfect target for his impact resistance training.

In addition to his impact resistance training, Xu Mo didn’t neglect his practice with Cold Weapons. He swung the Mountain-Cutting Saber with crackling energy—chopping, slashing, flicking, and stabbing—repeatedly honing his muscle memory within the confined space. Xu Mo knew that firearms would eventually run out of ammo or become inconvenient. A powerful body and masterful skill with Cold Weapons were his ultimate trump cards.

During breaks in his training, Xu Mo would turn on the radio and tune it to the official Jiang City channel. The broadcasts were mostly filled with encouraging slogans, minor adjustments to internal regulations, and reruns of basic survival tips. He didn’t actually care about the content; he just let the sound, a voice from the bastion of human civilization, drive away the tangible loneliness that permeated the fortress.

Sometimes, Xu Mo would try scanning other frequencies, but most were just a chaotic mess of static or unanswered distress calls.

The moment the 48-hour countdown in his mind hit zero was a rare splash of "color" and anticipation in his monotonous life. Depending on his mood and needs, Xu Mo would choose one of the fortress’s doors to open for a 60-second exploration of the Otherworld.

The high-security door in the bedroom usually led to places with a higher security level, like a warehouse for precision instruments. Once, he even opened it to find the vault of a high-end jewelry store. While such things were mostly useless luxuries in the apocalypse, it proved that the "door’s" potential was incredibly high.

The ordinary doors in the storeroom and utility room mostly led to office spaces, regular homes, or the back rooms of supermarkets. These places yielded practical supplies like unopened cans, bottled water, and tools, which replenished his daily stores.

The frosted glass door in the bathroom left Xu Mo rather exasperated. To date, every time he opened it, it invariably led to some kind of bathroom or restroom—from a luxury hotel’s jacuzzi to a public toilet stall. It was as if this particular door was locked by some rule into the "plumbing" category.

Other than occasionally finding some unopened toilet paper or cleaning solution, it was almost a complete bust.

Since he had no specific objective, Xu Mo’s recent explorations were mostly just him going through the motions. He knew the process itself was more important—it was a release for his mental stress and a way to satisfy his curiosity about the unknown.

Through his continuous observation over the past few days, Xu Mo had also recorded some strange phenomena. The number of zombies in the ruins before the fortress didn’t grow indefinitely. It would build up to a relatively stable number, around two or three hundred, and then suddenly drop by more than half at some point late at night. He didn’t know if they were migrating to the outskirts of the industrial park or if something else was happening.

After these zombies disappeared, new ones would emerge from the depths of the ruins to take their place, like water bubbling from a spring, and the cycle of accumulation would begin anew.

’It feels... like a monster respawn point in a video game.’ Xu Mo jotted down the analogy in his logbook. He found it a bit absurd, but it was the most direct description he could think of. He reported his detailed observations of this cyclical fluctuation.

The response from the other end of the radio was as impassive as ever: "Command received, C-07. Data logged. Continue observation." There was no surprise, no further instructions. It was as if this was all within the government’s expectations, or at least, still within their acceptable parameters.

Among the wandering horde, the sight of mutants was becoming more frequent. Agile Zombies and Strength Zombies were the most common. He even saw a Venom Type mutant zombie once, recognizing it instantly by its eerie, blue-green skin.

This time, Xu Mo didn’t let it be. He dispatched it quickly upon discovery. ’This thing is far more dangerous than a regular Agile Zombie,’ he reasoned. ’Trading it for the chance of a standard Agile Zombie spawning is a worthwhile exchange.’

And strangely enough, Xu Mo discovered that the other zombies wouldn’t devour the Venom Zombie’s corpse. This gave him a new piece of insight.

And so the days slipped by, filled with a routine of observation, arduous training, and brief explorations. In the blink of an eye, Xu Mo had already spent more than ten days inside the isolated tower designated C-07.