Chapter 3: The Phoenix
But something felt wrong.
The zombie that had been lying still with its back to him—its chest faintly rising and falling as if asleep—suddenly stopped breathing altogether.
Its body was completely motionless.
When does a beast ever stay perfectly still?
Only when it’s ready to strike.
An instinctive chill ran down Chen Ning’s spine. Without thinking, he snapped his hand back like lightning.
The very next instant, the “sleeping” zombie spun around with a savage roar, its claws slashing toward him.
Chen Ning barely avoided the attack—his hand pulled back just in time. The zombie’s clawed fingers scraped the edge of the iron bars, missing him by inches. Its razor-sharp nails extended past the cage, flailing violently in a futile attempt to reach him.
Pale and shaken, Chen Ning stumbled backward, his heart pounding as he stared at the snarling creature within the cage.
So it was true… The legends were true. High-level elite zombies really were capable of intelligence!
Even the two Black Shark soldiers guarding the truck frowned slightly—they hadn’t expected that either.
The crowd broke into chaos. People pointed and shouted,
“My god! That zombie actually used a trick—it pretended to sleep just to lure him closer!”
The predator zombie, furious at having failed its ambush, roared for a while, but soon quieted down. Slowly, it turned away again, crouching low in the same spot—as if to feign sleep once more, or perhaps to truly rest.
Moments later, Major Rahu and his adjutant Huang Shi returned, their bellies full and faces flushed with drink.
Rahu, chewing on a toothpick, glanced lazily at Chen Ning—standing pale and disheartened near the cage—then at the zombie that seemed asleep again, and the cigar lying untouched by its feet.
He squinted slightly and said coldly, “I thought you might have potential, but it seems I was wrong. You blew your chance. Get lost.”
Turning his head, he barked an order: “8526, 8527—you two, go eat. Ten minutes.”
The two guards quickly left for their meal.
Rahu then said to his adjutant, “Lao Huang, check the blacksmith’s shop—see if the weapons are ready.”
Huang Shi nodded and left with two men. The rest of the Black Shark soldiers were busy preparing to depart from Blackwater Town.
Rahu alone remained idle. He glanced at Chen Ning, who still hadn’t left, then turned his gaze toward the zombie cage beside the truck.
The predator zombie was still crouched motionlessly. The cigar lay right beside its feet.
Rahu’s eyes narrowed. He pressed his left hand to the pistol at his waist while reaching his right hand slowly into the cage. If the zombie so much as twitched, he was confident he could blow its head off before it reached him.
Chen Ning tensed. He wanted to warn Rahu—that this zombie wasn’t ordinary, that it is capable of thinking and laying ambush.
But before he could speak, Rahu’s hand had already retrieved the cigar. The zombie didn’t move an inch. It really did look asleep.
Rahu turned back toward Chen Ning, a faint smirk tugging at his lips—as if to say, See? It’s that easy. You just didn’t have the guts.
He placed the cigar between his lips, pulling a lighter from his pocket.
But just as the flame sparked—
The zombie moved.
Silent as death, it rose from its crouch. Its clawed hand shot out from between the iron bars, slashing straight for the back of Rahu’s head.
“Watch out!”
Chen Ning’s warning tore through the air. In the same instant, he lunged forward, grabbing the zombie’s arm and holding it back with all his strength.
He clung to the arm desperately, feeling the cold, rotting flesh under his fingers.
Rahu spun around, his face twisting in shock and fury. In one swift motion, he drew his combat knife and—crack!—sliced clean through the zombie’s outstretched arm.
Chen Ning fell backward, clutching the severed limb as it hit the ground with a sickening thud.
Greenish, foul-smelling blood sprayed from the stump. The zombie roared in fury, slamming its body again and again against the bars, but the iron cage held firm.
Rahu, breathing hard, wiped the sweat from his brow. His expression darkened. A fourth-level predator zombie—one that shouldn’t yet possess true intelligence—had almost outsmarted him. The thought stung his pride.
He barked orders for his men to reinforce the cage, then turned toward Chen Ning.
With one kick, he shoved the severed limb aside and pulled Chen Ning to his feet. “You okay, kid?”
Chen Ning shook his head quickly. “I—I’m fine.”
Rahu studied him for a moment, his eyes deep with thought. “You saved my life just now. I owe you one.”
Chen Ning opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came. His expression was a strange mix of gratitude and dread.
Rahu misread it. “You still want to join the Black Sharks, don’t you?” he said gruffly. “Listen—the Black Shark Legion is one of the Empire’s top five special forces. Every one of my men has been trained through hell. You? You wouldn’t last a month.”
He paused, then added, “But… if you’re truly set on becoming a soldier, there’s another way. Two hundred kilometers from here is the Phoenix Corps’ Training Camp. They’re recruiting now. The Phoenix Corps ranks among the Empire’s top ten legions. I happen to know their chief instructor—Lieutenant Colonel Butcher. I can write you a recommendation. If you pass their training and graduate, you’ll have a real future as a soldier of the Empire.”
Chen Ning bit his lip and lowered his head. “Thank you, Major.”
True to his word, Rahu quickly scribbled a letter of recommendation, handed it to Chen Ning along with a pistol, a dagger, and a bag of rations. He pointed him toward the direction of the Training Camp and told him to reach there within three days—the final day of recruitment.
After he finished giving his instructions, Rahu ordered his warriors to pack. Shortly, they mounted their military trucks, engines rumbling as they rolled out of Blackwater Town.
Old Chen came rushing over, beaming. “Hah! Chen Ning, you lucky devil! You actually got a recommendation to the Training Camp—that’s huge!”
But Chen Ning’s face was pale. He forced a smile and said quietly, “Sorry, Old Chen… I need to go home first.”
He turned and ran.
Inside his rundown shack, Chen Ning slammed the door shut. His hands trembled as he ripped open his tattered shirt—revealing several deep claw marks across his chest.
The scratches were from the zombie. From when he’d saved Rahu.
He hadn’t told anyone. He couldn’t. Because he knew what it meant.
Anyone scratched by a zombie would be infected—would die and turn into one of them.
And the Empire’s soldiers had only one way of dealing with the infected: a bullet to the head.
Chen Ning slumped into a chair, despair flooding through him. Moments ago, he had dared to dream of a future. Now, death was already on its way.
So this is it… he thought bitterly. So this is how it ends.
But he didn’t want to die here, not in Blackwater. If he turned, he might hurt the townspeople.
So he packed Rahu’s gifts—the gun, the dagger, the rations—and slipped quietly out of Blackwater Town.
He walked toward the direction of the Phoenix Corps’ Training Camp.
He knew the infection would soon take over him. He knew he would die… and rise again. But a part of him still clung to hope.
What if I don’t turn? What if… I survive?
And even if he didn’t—at least near the Phoenix Corps, when the time came, Imperial soldiers would end him before he could harm anyone.
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