Chapter 75: The Recapture of Beijing (1)

The Special Committee convened its first leadership meeting at the departmental level after the forces had joined together.

All soldiers attended clad head-to-toe in chain mail, even the sentries were replaced by troops fully armored in chain mail, equipped with halberds, firearms slung over their shoulders, and several cannons recovered from the militia armory were placed at the entrance of Mary Hospital. At this moment, it was necessary to display military strength, to let everyone see that their stock of firearms was considerable, bolstering confidence and deterring any unstable elements inclined to waver.

The civilian staff dressed haphazardly, throwing on whatever garments they could find. They were so busy their feet scarcely touched the ground, grabbing whatever was at hand, with no time to care for their appearance.

The Special Committee was also planning to relocate all operations to Zhongnanhai once the area was reclaimed.

Li Fengyi was seated at the head of the long table, encased entirely in chain mail. Li Qiang, too, was clad in armor, while Commander Liu still wore his old military uniform.

"Why do we not have any competent scientists?" Li Qiang asked, puzzled, directing his question to Minister Liu, who was attending the leadership meeting for the first time. Typically, soldiers accustomed to risking their lives were rarely insincere or courteous; such people usually didn't survive the ordeal. "I've been watching some zombie movies lately—when the apocalypse hits, the scientists immediately sniff the air, produce precise data, calculate survival rates in detail, and even create comprehensive classification standards for zombies: D-grade, S-grade, and so on. Why are our scientists always saying the causes are unknown?"

"Pfft!" Minister Liu of the Science and Technology Department, who was drinking water, sprayed it out, coughing...

He'd never encountered such a direct approach to issues; before the apocalypse, scientists were used to saving face for one another.

"What you describe is more like a charlatan than a scientist," Minister Liu recovered and replied. "Science requires vast amounts of observational data, experiments, and so forth—it demands significant resources and manpower."

Minister Liu sighed, continuing patiently with his explanation. He bent one finger, saying, "Scientists aren't known for their robust constitutions; many fell ill when the apocalypse struck, so manpower was lacking."

He bent another finger. "As for resources, that's even less."

"So how did they resolve things so quickly elsewhere?" Li Qiang pressed.

"Back then, society wasn't in turmoil," Minister Liu answered, maintaining his professional credibility. "Researchers didn't die en masse, supplies were sufficient, and besides," he scratched his head, "the after-effects of the vaccine were numerous, just not widely reported. The virus actually faded away on its own due to seasonal factors; that's the main reason."

Upon hearing this, everyone present at the Committee meeting brightened, speaking in unison, "What about the zombies?"

"Probably not," Minister Ou of the Health Department answered dryly, taking over the explanation. He had already conducted similar seasonal experiments. "I locked zombies in an iron box and kept them in a freezer at minus thirty degrees until today—they remained active, still infectious..."

Later, Minister Ou had confined a death row inmate in the same box; after a zombie bite, the man succumbed to the infection just as expected.

Minister Ou flushed with embarrassment. "The cause is unknown..."

Minister Liu blushed as well...

Since the Committee couldn't find any of those 'charlatan scientists,' they had no choice but to continue investing as much manpower and resources as possible into the Science Department for all apocalypse-related research.

"I'll say this upfront," Minister Ma Huaibo of the Civil Affairs Department said to Minister Liu as he handed over supplies, "Before the apocalypse, you found nothing; after, every bit of this was traded for with the lives of ordinary people. We have no obligation to support you—if you can't produce results, you know what to do, don't you?"

Minister Liu signed the receipt with a blank expression, then staggered back to the lab covering his face. He had seen the dried blood on many of the supplies; it wasn't zombie blood, he could tell, and indeed, their lives were sustaining the scientists.

The cleanup of several parks had been completed before July 25th; only the square and the zoo remained.

The difficulty with the square was the sheer number: people had never ceased gathering there year-round, and during the apocalypse, the surrounding area was gridlocked, preventing zombies from dispersing into the city.

On the morning of July 25th, 2015, at 7 a.m., the cleanup forces held a meeting upstairs in a courtyard in the Qianmen district, which had been cleared for this purpose, to plan the square cleanup operation.

Having previously received reports from the garrison that the square area would be extremely difficult to clear, the Armed Forces specially reinforced them with several field divisions from Base No. 2.

The division commanders, clad in full chain mail, sat in the meeting room.

"The square and the Forbidden City together have at least one hundred thousand zombies," emphasized a commander from the garrison headquarters—the reason the square was prioritized was precisely because of this immense number.

"Ah," the division commanders from Base No. 2, who had entered the city, were instantly dispirited. Having grown accustomed to the massive zombie hordes outside Beijing, they felt that so many troops to handle this number of zombies was almost overkill.

The garrison commander misinterpreted their reaction and sought to reassure them, "Don’t worry, we’ll clear them bit by bit. No need to fret."

The field division commanders exchanged strange glances. One, who looked to be barely thirty, stood up and said, "All of you are older than me, so let me take the lead."

With a metallic clatter, he pushed open the meeting room door and walked out alone. Soon, his voice echoed from the stairwell, "Attention all brigades! There are a hundred thousand zombies in the square and the Forbidden City! Commence cleanup operations! Don’t delay lunch!"

In the corridor and the courtyard, his subordinates responded with a chorus of "Yes, sir!" followed by a series of clanking chain mail sounds.

The garrison commander panicked, "Go help him! He's young, are you all so reckless?"

None of the field division commanders moved; they watched him with smiles tugging at their lips.

The garrison commander was a kindhearted man—before the apocalypse, his highest rank had been militia platoon leader, his real job was as a minor manager for a city property company.

He shook his chain mail, grabbed his steel pipe rifle, and hurried downstairs. The field division commander had already led his troops out.

As the garrison commander ordered his own men to assemble urgently, he chased after them into the courtyard.

The young field division commander’s troops were already streaming over three layers of car barricades, as if walking on the ground; the barricades were covered with steel ring conveyor belts, advancing toward the square.

The young commander had already led his force into the square. The garrison commander scrambled up the barricades, staring in astonishment!