Chapter 118: A One-Sided Massacre (Part I)

The first rays of morning sunlight slanted into New Newton. The air, washed clean by the rain, felt remarkably sweet. While the catastrophe of the past six months had dealt a lethal blow to humanity, it seemed to have acted as a restorative for the world itself. The sky, appearing as if it had regained its vitality, was no longer the grayish haze of the past; it was a vast, clear blue that was utterly intoxicating.

Fiona strolled along the street. The red biological scales covering her body pulsed with every movement, vibrant and beautiful under the clear sky. Paired with her graceful figure, she was, from a distance, a stunning sight. As the matriarch of the nematode-type organisms and the queen of the living dead, she seemed to dislike the nocturnal habits of her kind. The remnants of her human consciousness remained remarkably strong, making her vastly different from the typical mindless undead.

By all logical standards, this was unscientific. Generally, when a nematode parasite occupies the central nervous system and alters one's biological rhythms, the host is effectively dead. The term "living dead" is quite literal, for whatever moves the body is certainly not the person who once occupied it.

But Fiona was different. She retained her human consciousness with crystal clarity—a feat that remained an insurmountable challenge for all other subspecies.

She paced the streets with the arrogance of a queen inspecting her private garden. She rarely returned to the base, as it was filled with others who stood on equal footing with her. Out here, however, she was the one and only sovereign.

Under normal circumstances, she would wander through a sector, emitting her pheromones to draw out the living dead. They would crawl out and kneel before her, and she would act like a monarch, slowly selecting the strongest and most elite to mate with. If a pregnancy were successful, Ian would use bio-engineering to accelerate the growth of the new life form, bringing it to maturity within a month. It would then be deployed to the next urban stronghold to seize control of the local undead and gather survivors. By this method, in roughly two years, the entire world would gradually fall under his dominion.

That was when Ian’s empire would be successfully established.

But today, just as Fiona intended to head to Queens to make a selection, her pupils suddenly constricted. A cruel, excited smile bloomed on her otherwise calm face. She felt it—great disturbances at the four exits of the city. She closed her eyes, sensing the information transmitted to her by the undead she enslaved.

Had Xie Lin been there, he would have marveled at the strange structure of her psychic power. Normally, those with high psychic energy would manifest it as a compressed flow circulating around the body like the five elements. Hers, however, was peculiar: it radiated outward like a web, distributed with extreme precision. Every few dozen kilometers, a Level 3 undead served as a psychic relay, allowing her to control all the undead in the city. It could be said that all of New Newton was under her total surveillance.

"Heh." Closing her eyes and absorbing the information from all directions, she wore a cruel, satisfied smile. She tapped her finger lightly, her voice husky and evocative: "Slaughter them all."

"Hiss!" Fiona’s voice was soft, but in that instant, every undead in New Newton received their queen’s command. At the four entrances, the commanding officers raised their hands to halt their troops upon hearing the strange commotion. Moments later, they beheld a tide of undead rushing toward them. These were not the sluggish zombies of old; these nematode-type undead possessed extreme agility, sprinting like cheetahs. With nearly a million of them pouring in at each entrance, the sheer momentum was terrifying. The soldiers were instantly paralyzed by the sight.

"Stay calm!" the lead officer commanded, his face stern. "Do not forget our mission. The soldier responsible for the video feed, move to the rear. If you must die, be the last one to fall. You are to record every second of our annihilation and transmit it to them. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir!" The soldier in charge of the feed, eyes brimming with tears, gave a standard salute before scurrying to the center of the formation to begin recording. "The unit has just reached the city limits. Before formally entering, we have encountered a large-scale attack. It can be confirmed that the enemy has achieved total control over the undead in New Newton, with an incredibly high level of precision and command."

He glanced around as his teammates began to open fire. "The undead are ignoring terrain to climb due to their agility. Because of their speed, our soldiers' accuracy is low. Relying on cover for fire support is putting us on the defensive. The best approach is heavy fire at open locations!"

Elsewhere, Guo Lang and his group silently watched the video feed being transmitted.

"The commander has ordered long-range missile strikes. The damage is significant, but it cannot stop the enemy's advance. They are too fast. As soon as one wave is cleared, the next replaces it instantly. Armored vehicles have been deployed!"

"There are variants among the undead—black-skinned, with sharp fangs and claws. Two or three of them working together can tear our tanks and armored vehicles apart with their bare hands. Our front line has been breached!"

"Major Thor, who was in charge of the front, has been killed in action. I am here..."

Before the soldier could finish, a splash of black-red blood stained the video feed. A moment later, the hideous face of a Level 3 undead filled the screen, followed by a dizzying shift in perspective as the scene descended into chaos.

Guo Lang remained silent for a long time before saying to the others, "Seven minutes and thirty seconds. How about your end?"

"About the same," Jiang Liuying said, yawning as she ate a piece of fruit.

The others, with the exception of Ye Zhiqiue, who looked on with reverence, reported their times of total annihilation with expressionless faces. The supreme commander, Zhuo Er, looked despondent. This operation had involved twenty thousand soldiers—half of the base’s surviving military force.

Those participating in the outer perimeter attack accounted for ninety percent of that number. These nearly twenty thousand warriors had set out that morning with excellent morale. At that moment, Zhuo Er had even harbored a sliver of hope; given their military discipline, even if they lacked the firepower and numbers, there might have been a chance to break through.

Yet, reality was crueler than he had imagined. It was his first time witnessing the explosive power of the undead when fully mobilized. To be honest, he felt that even if their military district had been at its peak, they would have fared no better without long-range missile strikes to clear the initial numbers. The enemy was far more ferocious than they had anticipated.

Sighing, Guo Lang patted Zhuo Er on the shoulder, but he did not offer any comfort. The deaths of these men were, in a sense, half their own fault; they had been the ones to force these soldiers to act as cannon fodder. At this moment, Guo Lang couldn't bring himself to play the role of comforter.

He then looked at Xie Lin, who was in charge of the airborne units, and asked, "Brother Xie, how is it on your end?"

Xie Lin’s expression was grim. With a heavy look, he turned the screen around. "See for yourselves."

The group looked at the screen, and in the next instant, they were all stunned. The fighter jets that had launched the first wave of missile strikes were frozen in mid-air, right as they approached the skyscrapers, unable to move a single inch.

"This... what is happening here?" Jiang Liuying stammered, completely dumbfounded.