Chapter 100

The skin and muscles will rot and stink, but bones can be preserved for a long time.

In this regard, there is no difference between zombies and humans.

The survivors who have survived since the outbreak of the virus have accumulated a wealth of hunting experience. It has been almost a year since last May. Each of them has encountered zombies and knows how to deal with these creatures.

Moreover, Wu Guoguang's monitoring station has administered immunity agents to many people.

They dare to kill.

They can kill.

"Are you trying to fool us?"

Suddenly, the woman in the red sweater, full of doubt, blurted out, "Is it really that good to exchange a few bones for guns and bullets?"

Su Hao glanced at her and smiled kindly, "It's not strange that you don't believe it. Once we have a deal, you'll understand."

Su Hao had no intention of recruiting these survivors.

From strangers to acceptance, it requires interaction and consensus on certain issues. It also requires fair distribution of benefits.

It's like a couple getting to know each other and getting married; they need a period of mutual adaptation, not like pigs in heat, who can just "grunt" a few times and get on with it.

The existence of silver bones has been made public.

The Academy of Sciences is conducting research on them.

Wang Qian has already shared the preliminary research results with the military and even submitted them to the United Nations Biological Science Organization.

It won't be long before many people realize the importance of silver bones, which will trigger a new round of competition.

Su Hao is already a registered officer.

Silver bones, combined with a first-stage enhancement agent, have produced truly enhanced humans. The military is accelerating the development of 9mm caliber individual weapon systems to replace the old 5.8mm light weapons. These weapons are less powerful, but they can still kill mutated creatures by hitting vital points. The military has accumulated a vast number of weapons over the years. As both a lieutenant and a researcher, Su Hao can use silver bones to exchange with the military.

In the future world, silver bones are equivalent to currency. Major clans, financial groups, and the military hold large amounts of them. Due to their wide availability, as long as the quantity is not particularly large, they won't attract envy or trouble.

Every action Su Hao has taken, from submitting the first notebook to making the silver bones public, has been carefully planned. He has gradually revealed the secrets he knows, gained attention, and obtained benefits from both the military and the Academy of Sciences. These actions seem natural to outsiders and are not suspicious.

With the support of public opinion and the foundation of his own thinking, Su Hao can mobilize survivors to help him collect silver bones.

No one knows how many people are still alive in Kunming.

Every day, people return from outside the city, and others leave.

They kill each other for food and clothes.

A steamed bun can turn friends into enemies.

People who are starving start to look at their fellow humans with red, hungry eyes.

Even familiar companions find it hard to trust each other.

In such a situation, rashly gathering the survivors in the city would only cause chaos and hostility. The reason Su Hao sends many team members to persuade survivors to join the team through prolonged contact is the same.

However, Su Hao cannot afford to allocate people to do this for a long time.

Exchanging silver bones and firearms can attract many survivors to the team.

As long as the first exchange is successful, some trust will be established.

After two, three, four exchanges, a familiar attitude will develop through continuous interaction. At that point, it will be easy to recruit these people as "worker bees."

What Su Hao needs to do now is to spread this news as quickly as possible, so more people know about it.

Although the five survivors still have some concerns, they are beginning to believe in the "exchange" Su Hao mentioned. The woman in the red sweater and the skinny man are even excitedly discussing where they can find dead zombies and how many guns and bullets they can get.

"Your camp is in the north, near the stadium, with a black flag on the upper floor. Is that right?"

The leader of the group is more cautious. After getting a precise answer from Su Hao, the bearded man suddenly thought of a very important question.

"Um, there's one more thing. What should I call you?"

"Ha ha, my name is Su Hao."

His smile was as bright as the sun.

In the northern part of the continent, there is a beautiful Chinese-style estate.

It is far from the city, surrounded by mostly plains and hills. A river flows through the fields, and the plants on both sides are mostly green, indicating that spring has arrived.

Walls and barbed wire fences block the view of visitors from a distance. From the nearby hilltop, one can see that the core building of the estate is a palace similar in shape to the Temple of Heaven. Of course, it is much smaller in size and area. It is exquisite but not grand.

Towers stand around the perimeter, with fully armed guards on top. At the intersections, there are five or six sandbag fortifications. Heavy machine guns with great deterrent power are mounted on the parapets. If one gets closer, with good eyesight, one can see several direct-fire artillery pieces hidden deep in the estate. The black, thick barrels point outward, causing fear and trembling.

An old man with white hair and beard sat on a sofa in the second-floor study, his legs crossed, reading a document with intense focus.

He had a stern face and a slender figure. His prominent nose, deep-set eyes, and high forehead easily evoke the term "eagle-eyed and wolf-like."

The document was about a dozen pages long, mostly numbers and tables. In the "type" column on the left, items such as "slaves," "vehicles," "heavy machinery," "weapons and ammunition," and so on were listed in order. Below that, these items were further detailed. For example, "slaves" were divided into men, women, children, and different age groups with specific numbers. "Vehicles" were divided into heavy and light, with different tonnages, uses, and conditions.

In addition to these, the document also included items such as food, medicine, building materials, area size, and mineral resources.

The first page of the document was filled with humble and respectful greetings, which took up about a third of the page. The old man skipped over these formalities and carefully read the data and item lists.

The clock on the opposite wall had already passed nearly two hours.

Soon, the document was flipped to the last page.

There were no more item lists or data, but a letter filled with strong accusations and resentment. It was full of uncontrollable anger and pleading, deep sorrow and pain. Through the paper, one could feel the writer's intense desire for revenge.

The old man's sharp eyes quickly scanned the letter, smiled indifferently, and placed the document aside. He then picked up the cup on the table, sipped some tea, and pressed the bell to summon a servant.

A middle-aged man in a blue uniform quickly entered the room. He walked lightly and steadily, making no sound. Clearly, this was the result of long-term training.

The middle-aged servant walked to the sofa, stood with his hands hanging, and bowed slightly, waiting for instructions.

The old man looked at the slightly shaking tea leaves in the porcelain cup and asked casually, "Where is that person?"

The servant replied humbly, "He is still in the reception room."

The old man shifted his gaze to the document beside him, read it for a while, and then spoke again, "What are your estimates? Are the current resources of the 'Shengfei' Group consistent with the numbers in the document?"

"There are discrepancies, but not significant."

The middle-aged servant nodded affirmatively, "The main issues are with the number of slaves and heavy vehicles. The actual numbers are only about 13% of those in the document, perhaps even less. We have investigated—the 'Shengfei' Group's recent colonization plans in the Kunming area have all failed. They suffered heavy losses, with over 90% of the core members either killed or missing. Lin Feihu's two sons are also missing. He has been sending people to search, but there has been no news."

"Kunming?"

The old man squinted his eyes, and a detailed map of the continent immediately appeared in his mind. He quickly found the relevant province and city coordinates, compared the distances, and shook his head, saying, "Lin Feihu's ambition is too great. Kunming is thousands of kilometers from the 'Shengfei' headquarters. The roads along the way are either destroyed or blocked. Transporting supplies by convoy consumes a lot of fuel and is very unsafe. I wonder what he was thinking?"

"Perhaps it's because the coastal cities have already been occupied by us and other financial groups, so he had no choice but to take this desperate measure."

The middle-aged servant said cautiously, "I sent people to investigate: the disappearance of his two sons has greatly affected Lin Feihu. He has been slaughtering slaves in extremely brutal and cruel ways. Many people have fled the 'Shengfei' estate, even some of his bodyguards and close attendants. When we submitted the document, we conducted a physical examination of him. Lin Feihu's mental state is extremely abnormal, often incoherent. But as soon as his sons are mentioned, he quickly regains clarity. To be frank, he is already insane."

"Insane?"

The old man's expression was surprised, then quickly turned cold, "Hmph, an insane man, a report with actual numbers less than 20% of the stated amount. Such a person doesn't deserve to live. He is more disgusting than a zombie."

The middle-aged servant was silent for a few seconds, then slowly said, "He is actually very pitiful. All his family members are dead. Lin Feihu just wants revenge. This is the only reason he is still alive. Otherwise, he wouldn't have submitted this statistical document while he was still lucid, requesting our help."

"Help?"

The old man's expression remained cold, with a hint of anger in his voice. He tapped his fingers on the table, "There are many pitiful people in this world. Many families have been completely devoured by zombies, yet they still struggle in the ruins of the city. Similarly, everyone is gathering slaves; no one can claim to be noble or kind. Lin Feihu has killed many people; what about the families of those people? Moreover, the document he submitted is full of water, or even fake—"

The middle-aged servant lowered his head, waiting for the old man's anger to subside before speaking again, "Actually, he didn't lie."

The old man turned his gaze to the servant, puzzled, and grunted.

"These data are stored in a computer, and only high-level managers have the authority to modify them. After receiving the request from 'Shengfei,' I sent people to bring back the computer from their headquarters. The stored data showed no signs of tampering. The last record date was in June last year. I think Lin Feihu didn't believe that the people he sent out were dead, just missing. Therefore, the related personnel and material losses were not recorded. His mental state has been unclear, so he can only rely on these data."

The old man subconsciously frowned, his gaze on the middle-aged servant becoming dark and cold.

"Are you trying to speak up for Lin Feihu?"

Without waiting for a response, the old man continued in a cold tone, "Speak up—how much did he offer you?"

The middle-aged servant shook his head and said respectfully, "Even if I had the courage, I would never accept such a benefit. I just feel sorry for Lin Feihu. The remaining resources and slaves of the 'Shengfei' Group are not insignificant. Helping him a bit to fulfill his last wish is not excessive and is in our interest."

The old man stared into his eyes, coldly asked, "Not excessive?"

The servant hesitated for a few seconds, a hint of emotion flashed in his eyes, and he slowly smiled bitterly.

"My wife gave birth last month. I have a son. Apart from my loyalty and duty to the financial group, he is almost my entire life."

The old man slowly softened his cold expression, nodded slowly, and fell into deep thought, sitting on the sofa.

After a few minutes, the old man stood up from the sofa. He paced back and forth in the room, then turned and instructed the middle-aged servant waiting beside him.

"Let Lin Feihu wait a bit longer. I need more time to consider this matter."

The servant bowed and slowly left the room.

The footsteps in the corridor gradually faded. The old man opened the door to the inner study, walked along the electronic security corridor, and arrived at a door covered in copper, which served both as a luxury and a protective measure.

This was a south-facing room, spacious and modern in style. The walls were adorned with oil paintings and various photo frames, and the extensive use of transparent materials gave the room a somewhat eerie feel. In the central hall, a grand piano stood, and a young man in his twenties sat on the bench, eyes closed, immersed in the beautiful music produced by his fingers on the keys.

He was tall and broad-shouldered, with slightly long hair that softened the sharp angles of his face. His skin was very fair, and he had a prominent nose, giving him a proud appearance. The young man wore a cotton shirt, the top button open, revealing a muscular and strong chest, and powerful collarbones extending to his shoulders.

He was playing Mozart's "Turkish March."

The rhythm was strong, swift, and smooth, with a very free and captivating style.

The old man stood behind the young man, hands crossed in front of him, smiling.

He remained silent until the young man's long, white fingers pressed the final heavy note, completing the entire piece.

The old man began to clap, smiling, "If you had been born fifty years earlier, even Lang Lang would have bowed to you."

The young man turned around, smiling, revealing a row of neat, white teeth, "Lang Lang is already dead. I saw the video footage sent back from Hong Kong—his body type is 'Class B,' without immunity, so he can only turn into a zombie."

As he spoke, the young man stood up from the bench, walked to the dining table, picked up a glass of lemon water, took a few sips, and caught his breath. He looked at the old man, his eyes shining with intelligence and confidence.

"Dear uncle, you must have come here to discuss the 'Shengfei' Group, right?"

The old man spread his hands, looking very satisfied, "There are people in this world called 'geniuses.' And you, Sibo, are undoubtedly the most outstanding among them."

The young man, called Sibo, modestly waved his hand, "If I'm not mistaken, you are currently troubled by whether to agree to Lin Feihu's request, right?"

The old man nodded, his gaze becoming serious, "I'm not sure. How can I put it—people who have lost their loved ones are very pitiful."

Sibo went straight to the core of the issue, "In other words, from a purely business perspective, the assets of the 'Shengfei' Group submitted by Lin Feihu are not sufficient for us to help him?"

"You're right."

The old man paused, "But—"

"There is no 'but'—"

Sibo smiled, but his tone was firm and decisive, "It's not a time of peace anymore. No matter how much money, it's just waste paper. Population and resources are the essential bargaining chips. Since Lin Feihu can't offer more, we can't take risks for him. Kunming is too far away. According to our plan, it's an area we will develop in the second or even third phase. The financial group has already gathered 160,000 slaves from the eastern region. Our biggest problem now is to quickly integrate them and ensure that the food produced meets normal consumption. As for other matters, we must abandon them."

After a pause, Sibo continued, "Uncle, the world is full of opportunities now, the best time for the Gao family financial group to rise. In dealing with specific matters, we must distinguish between priorities. Population and food are the foundation, as well as the military's enhancement agents. If we waste resources on other auxiliary goals, we will end up with nothing."

"I agree with you."

The old man was still a bit hesitant, "But you need to consider the thoughts of others. For example, my close attendant thinks Lin Feihu is pitiful. Sibo, besides interests, we must also consider human feelings."

"Then hand Lin Feihu over to Ouyang Junlin and his group—"

Sibo quickly thought of a solution, "Send people to the 'Shengfei' headquarters now, gather all the slaves, and bring all the valuable items under control. Leave one-tenth of the food and weapons for Ouyang Junlin. Tell him: this is the reward for helping Lin Feihu find his sons."