Chapter 16: Training Assessment

Since the Huang Min incident, Hawk had organized several more live-combat exercises. This time, the trainees were far more disciplined. Every one of them treated the missions with utmost seriousness, using the simplest, most efficient methods to kill zombies.

The other four squads were also taken out for field training under their own instructors.

The first three-month phase of the new recruits’ training schedule was nearing its end. Everyone was pushing themselves to their limits — training hard, performing harder. Everyone wanted to make it into the top fifty of their squad. Those who did would be promoted into the elite team personally led by Instructor Butcher, and for those that make it to the top ten — a shortcut to glory and advancement.

Chen Ning trained with total focus. If he could join the Butcher’s elite unit, it would mark the first true step toward his dream of becoming an officer. With future promotions, power, and status, he would one day have the power to go to Vermilion Phoenix City and openly demand back his beloved daughter Xiao Guo from the Liu family.

Soon, the first phase of training came to its final stage — the assessment.

The content of the assessment was straightforward: the two hundred and fifty recruits remaining across the five squads were to be deployed to SanXi Town, roughly a hundred kilometers east of the Azurebird Camp, to hunt and eliminate the zombies roaming there.

SanXi Town had once been a small settlement of around eight thousand impoverished residents. Its defenses were crude and fragile. Three months earlier, a few predator-class zombies had broken through the town’s perimeter, causing massive casualties. The next day, the infection spread unchecked — the residents either fled or perished. What was left was a town overrun with undead.

The Black Shark Legion had been dispatched once to purge the area, but according to intelligence obtained by the Butcher, even after the legion’s departure, many zombies still wandered there — at least a thousand, scattered across the ruins.

Azurebird Camp soon received orders from command: completely exterminate the remaining undead in SanXi Town.

The Butcher turned this mission into the recruits’ final assessment. Everyone was transported in military trucks to the SanXi area and then split up to operate independently. Their goal: hunt zombies.

A was worth 1 point, a stiff 2 points, a  charger 4 points, a predator 8 points — and for each higher rank, the score doubled. At the end of the mission, the fifty recruits with the highest total scores would be selected for the Butcher’s elite unit.

For this operation, no one was allowed to carry firearms — only military-issue daggers and hand axes.

The reasoning was twofold:

First, the operation was to be conducted entirely at night, lasting from dusk until dawn. If anyone fired a gun, the noise would draw every zombie in the area and throw the competition into chaos.

Second, the Butcher wanted to gauge the recruits’ true combat strength. Fighting with cold weapons against zombies tested courage, endurance, and skill more than anything else. He despised soldiers who relied too heavily on guns — in real warfare, ammunition often ran dry, and when that happened, survival depended on your blade.

Besides, top-tier zombies — such as the terrifying Level-Six Frieza — could already resist the firepower of standard firearms.

If humanity hoped to face such monsters, they had to strengthen themselves. Soldiers needed to grow powerful enough to reach the rank of War Officer, Brave Commander, and even Great General. — true superhuman fighters. Ordinary guns were useless beyond low-tier undead.

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Five military cargo trucks, like five roaring steel beasts, sped down the muddy country road. Their wheels crushed through the potholes, splattering mud in all directions. Each truck was packed with dozens of Azurebird recruits standing on the flatbeds, gripping the railings.

The ride was rough, the vehicles jolting wildly, but not a single person complained. Some even closed their eyes, using every second to rest and conserve energy for the coming night’s bloodbath.

After half an hour, the terrain began to change. Three meandering streams intersecting each other come into view ahead, and beyond them — broken walls, collapsed houses, and ruins bathed in the dying light of sunset. The air was thick with decay, a stench of rot and blood that clung to the throat.

Suddenly, the lead truck braked hard. The shriek of metal on gravel echoed, the tires gouging deep trenches in the dirt before coming to a violent halt.

The four trucks behind it followed in quick succession — each stopping just short, less than ten centimeters apart.

The Butcher was the first to move. He leapt down from the driver’s seat of the lead truck with feline speed despite his massive frame, landing as lightly as a tiger.

From the other vehicles, Hawk and the rest of the instructors jumped out from the passenger side, each moving with the crisp precision of veterans.

The two hundred fifty recruits of the five squads followed in perfect coordination, vaulting down the two-meter-high trucks and forming ranks.

Just as they finished assembling, a shrill moan cut through the air. The noise of their arrival had attracted a zombie.

From the ruins ahead, a huge, half-rotted figure came lurching forward, waving its arms wildly as it broke into an awkward run. Its torn clothes hung in shreds, its face a mangled mess of decay. The stench was unbearable.

Driven by the hunger for human blood, the creature charged straight at the soldiers, utterly irrational — driven by its instinct, the lone zombie dared to charge towards an entire platoon.

It was tall, muscular, with rigid movements — clearly a level-two zombie.

Two points.

Every recruit’s hand instinctively went to the dagger at their waist. Everyone wanted to draw the first blood.

But before anyone could move, the Butcher did.

He smoothly drew a military dagger, flicked his wrist, and with a sharp whoosh, the blade flashed through the air like a streak of light.

Thud!

The knife buried itself deep in the zombie’s skull, piercing straight through to the back of its head. The creature dropped instantly, twitching once before going still.

“For fairness,” the Butcher said, his deep voice carrying easily, “this one counts as mine.”

He strode over, his heavy military boots thudding against the ground, planted one on the zombie’s skull, and bent down to retrieve his knife. Then, with a casual twist of the blade, he pried open the creature’s skull as if peeling an egg.

Inside the rotten mess of brain matter lay a small, round object — a zombie brain core, about the size of a peanut.

Holding it between his thumb and forefinger, the Butcher turned to the assembled recruits.

“Each zombie has one of these inside its skull,” he explained. “The higher the level, the larger the core. When you kill a zombie, make sure you collect the brain core. Tomorrow at dawn, everyone will regroup here. Your assessment score will be based on the number and grade of brain cores you’ve collected.

If you have any questions, speak now. If not — in half an hour, when night falls, the assessment begins.”

So that was how the scores would be tallied, Chen Ning thought. The brain cores.

No one raised any questions. The recruits sat down and began eating a quick dinner — boxed meals brought along from base. It was a hearty one: rice, vegetables, and a chicken drumstick.

Yet a quiet heaviness hung over them. Everyone knew — for some, this meal might be their last.

As they ate, some recruits gathered in pairs or trios, whispering softly.

They were smart — hunting alone wasn’t always the most efficient way to rack up kills. Small teams could watch each other’s backs and take down more zombies together. Those with decent strength began to form small hunting parties, each plotting their route for the night.

Others already had established allies — like Liu Xi, who had his two loyal followers, Xu Qiang and Gao Feng.

Chen Ning, however, preferred to act alone. He didn’t speak to anyone, nor did he intend to join any group. He planned to hunt solo tonight.

Just then, Bai Yuhao approached with a friendly smile, lowering his voice.

“Chen Ning, want to team up with me later?”

Chen Ning shook his head. “I’m used to working alone.”

Bai Yuhao nodded. “Fair enough… oh, and one more thing.” He leaned closer. “While you’re busy killing zombies, don’t forget to watch your back. Sometimes,” he said quietly, “people are more dangerous than zombies.”

He gave a faint smile and walked away.

Chen Ning frowned slightly. Bai Yuhai was clearly warning him — about someone.

His instincts told him who. He turned his head and caught Liu Xi, Xu Qiang, and Gao Feng whispering among themselves, their eyes flicking toward him — eyes full of malice.

Chen Ning’s lips curled into a cold, silent smile.

So, planning to take me out, are you? You’ve been waiting for this chance for a long time. Well… so have I.

Tonight, we’ll see whose blood hits the ground first.