Chapter 65: Establishing Communication with the Base (4)

“At present, we have observed nearly one hundred zombie hordes, ranging in size from a million down to ten thousand,” Li Fengyi reported at the routine military conference. Beside him, the radio translation officer worked at breakneck speed, synchronizing the transmission. So far, there was no solution to the issue of secure communication.

Sun Feigang was already contemplating how to address the problem. “We have a rich variety of equipment, but very few pieces match on both sides,” he remarked. The lack of identical devices greatly limited possible solutions, meaning encoding and decoding methods did not align. Either messages could be sent securely but not received securely, or vice versa. Sun Feigang was troubled. In private, he confided to Li Fengyi, “The principle is obviously simple.”

“Sixth brother,” Li Fengyi comforted him, “even the cleverest cook cannot make a meal without rice.”

Still, this challenge had led to the rapid training of translation officers.

“Base Two will conduct reconnaissance along the Fifth Ring Road, providing advance warning for Headquarters. At the same time, soldiers with basic training will be assigned to operate artillery, attempting to eliminate zombie hordes through bombardment,” Li Fengyi outlined his plan. “The main force of Base Two will move along the preset defensive perimeter around Beijing, establishing a defensive line under the guidance of reconnaissance units, while also conducting field experiments to eliminate zombie groups.”

So far, humanity lacked direct experience in open-field battles against zombie hordes. When Headquarters reclaimed Ditan Park, Qingnian Lake Park, and Liuyin Park, the strategy was to seal the area and gradually exhaust the zombies—there was no experience with defending open ground against zombie assaults.

“After scouting the routes, the Headquarters troops will rendezvous with Base Two, quickly reopening transportation lines to bring weapons and equipment back to Headquarters for re-equipping.”

Yet, before that, a crucial question remained: how effective was the massed power of the unfamiliar blade?

During clearance operations, Base Two had been unstoppable, but field-testing in group combat was still needed. The staff planned to find a suitable zombie horde for the newly trained troops to face in real combat.

Headquarters raised several detailed questions. After discussion, another pressing issue emerged: “Food supplies are running low. Under current conditions, we can only last ten days. We must find a way to reclaim the national grain reserves.”

Both sides of the radio conference fell silent.

“Beijing, as the capital, surely has strategic grain warehouses,” Li Fengyi broke the silence. “We need to locate them and reclaim the stores.”

His offhanded words dispelled the shadow that had weighed on everyone’s hearts.

The reorganized army was now divided into garrison and field units, following the three-tier structure of squad, platoon, company, battalion, regiment, brigade, and division. The Headquarters garrison focused on recapturing and cleaning densely populated city areas, while the main force of Base Two formed the field army, which would conduct operations nationwide. After this announcement, responses poured in from across the country—welcoming, pleading, cursing, and even threatening messages. The United Front Department commented, “The current situation is too complex; every survivor enclave is different.” Ye Liushun was pleased to see his department’s work increasingly valued, with the Special Committee promising policy support and allocation of resources and manpower.

All units began their preparations. Li Fengyi listened to the reconnaissance report on field-testing the unfamiliar blade against zombie hordes.

“East of Beijing’s Sixth Ring Road, where the Jingha Expressway runs, at the confluence of the North Canal and Liangshui River lies a triangular zone,” the field army’s reconnaissance staff reported. “The expressway perfectly seals the exit. The temporary First Field Army has already lured a horde of about 1.1 million zombies into that area and completed the blockade using the highway as a barrier.”

With arms production not yet restored, supplies were short, and all existing weapons had been designed for killing humans. Their ergonomics suited pre-apocalypse people; post-apocalypse, human strength had increased, and carelessness often led to damage, further worsening the shortage of military weapons.

After the Special Committee released its report, survivor camps everywhere understood the situation. No wonder the guns and ammunition they’d struggled to find were so often broken—they’d blamed the factories for shoddy manufacturing, or suspected sabotage and even executed innocent people.

If the cleanup relied solely on clearing cities and setting traps, with a global population of over seven billion—meaning nearly seven billion zombies—it would take an eternity. Moreover, zombies, as living creatures, showed signs of gradual evolution. While nothing like the D-rank or S-rank monsters from classic fiction had appeared, who could say what might emerge? If, over time, zombies developed social behavior or reproductive ability, humanity could be erased from the planet altogether.

Thus, the Special Committee was determined to find rapid methods to eliminate zombies and remove the threat.

Unable to crack secure communications, Sun Xiaoshan turned his attention to designing bite-resistant army uniforms. Observations in the apocalypse confirmed that zombies mainly spread infection by biting; scratches were mere wounds and did not transmit the virus.

Ultimately, Sun Xiaoshan decided to forge chainmail—a suit made from interlocking steel rings, using number 70 spring steel. With three millimeters of material, nothing could pierce it. The suit covered the whole body, as no one knew from where zombies might bite. He tested the mail by fitting it onto a rabbit, about the size of a pre-apocalypse wolfdog, tethered and tossed into a zombie horde. The rabbit, already wounded and bleeding, was surrounded by starving zombies and eventually died, crushed under their weight, but not a single bite mark marred its body.

Regarding the problem of the zombies’ sheer mass, Sun Xiaoshan suggested constructing several steel frames tailored to human proportions to protect vital areas. However, if too many zombies piled on, the frames would deform and wedge into the body, causing even greater harm. They could provide only limited protection. In the finalized design, the chainmail’s weight was distributed across shoulders, back, and waist, rather than the prototype’s focus on the shoulders, making movement more agile.

Standard chainmail weighed about thirty kilograms, split into upper and lower halves. To wear it, one would pull it over the head, then step into the lower piece, fastening them together at the waist—a true shield against zombie teeth. Both hands were protected by steel-ring gloves, joined to the sleeves. For the post-apocalyptic humans’ enhanced strength, the weight was not heavy, but neither was it especially light. The Industrial Department recommended donning armor only immediately before battle.