16: Chapter 16 Data-Driven Game Theory

Commander Lin Dong lay behind an overturned box truck, his left eye staring through the scope at the intersection three hundred meters away.

The crosshairs of the scope were firmly fixed on the bus driver's window.

Windage correction 0.3, distance correction 2.7, the light inside the vehicle was dim, and the target's head might be behind the seat back—he quickly ran through the firing data in his mind, his index finger resting on the trigger guard, without pulling it.

"Boss," came Zhang Hai's lowered voice from behind, "can that thing really lure them away?"

Commander Lin Dong didn't turn back, only nodding slightly.

Zhang Hai was one of the three soldiers he had brought out from the barracks dormitory; originally from the artillery regiment, he didn't understand infantry tactics well, but he had the advantage of being obedient.

"Sound source intensity determines the attraction radius," Commander Lin Dong said, his eyes not leaving the scope, "The bus air horn, 110 decibels, frequency 500 to 1500 Hertz, covers the sensitive auditory range of the zombies."

"According to the panel data, the response radius of an F-Class Zombie to a continuous high-frequency sound source is 50 to 70 meters, so the horde within four hundred meters of the intersection will all converge toward the center."

Zhang Hai didn't fully understand, but the four words "panel data" made him shut his mouth.

Three hours ago, that translucent light screen had appeared before everyone's eyes.

Commander Lin Dong called it the "Panel System," saying that everyone could see the "digitized information" of themselves and the zombies.

Zhang Hai was skeptical at the time, until he saw with his own eyes red text floating above the head of a zombie lunging at him:

【F-Class Zombie】 HP: 97/120 Threat Rating: F Weakness: Head (Damage Coefficient 2.5)

He fired subconsciously, the bullet piercing through the zombie's right eye, and the red numbers instantly dropped to zero.

At that moment, Zhang Hai knew that this world had completely changed.

"They are here," Commander Lin Dong suddenly said.

Zhang Hai poked half his head out from the edge of the truck, his pupils suddenly contracting.

Zombies were appearing from all four directions of the intersection.

They weren't walking; they were running.

They maintained a bizarre, joint-inverted running posture, like a group of puppets pulled by strings, pouring out from every alley, shop, and corridor, converging toward the bus parked in the center of the intersection.

"Damn it..." Zhang Hai swallowed hard, "Boss, how many are there?"

Commander Lin Dong did not answer.

In the periphery of his right eye, the numbers above the zombies' heads were constantly flickering.

【F-Class Zombie】 × 47 【F-Class Zombie】 × 83 【F-Class Zombie】 × 126

The data was stacking up.

He quickly pressed the military multi-function watch on his right wrist to start the timer.

At the same time, his left hand pulled a crumpled map from the side pocket of his tactical vest—a Beiling City urban traffic map, scale 1:10000, which he had swiped from the barracks duty room.

"Zhang Hai, report the count," he said without looking up.

"Wh-what?"

"Every fifteen seconds, report the number of zombies at the intersection."

Zhang Hai took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus his gaze on the crowd of monsters converging.

"Fifteen seconds up—about, about one hundred and fifty."

Commander Lin Dong quickly marked on the map with a pencil: T+15s, intersection, approx 150 F-Class.

"One hundred and eighty... two hundred and ten..." Zhang Hai's voice gradually stabilized, "Two hundred and sixty... Boss, there are three that are different!"

Commander Lin Dong looked up abruptly.

In the scope, he saw them.

Three zombies were mixed in with the ordinary horde, but the red text above their heads was completely different.

【Lv.3 Speed-type Mutant】 HP: 200/200 Threat Rating: E+ Special Ability: Burst Sprint (Cooldown 8 seconds) Weakness: Knee Joint (Defense Coefficient 0.4)

【Lv.2 Strength-type Mutant】 HP: 350/350 Threat Rating: E Special Ability: Heavy Strike Weakness: Third Cervical Vertebra (Not Fully Mutated)

And one more, Commander Lin Dong's pupils contracted slightly—

【Lv.1 Perception-type Mutant】 HP: 150/150 Threat Rating: D- Special Ability: Mental Wave (Can weakly influence low-level zombies) Weakness: None (Recommend priority elimination)

Three Mutants.

And one of them could "command" the zombies.

Commander Lin Dong's brain entered a high-speed operating state in an instant.

He had once served as a company commander of a spearhead company during exercises, facing the firepower suppression of an entire Blue Force battalion, but the sense of crisis at this moment was ten times stronger than that time.

"Li Na," he lowered his voice.

Two meters behind him, the young female soldier lying under another vehicle raised her head.

She was a Communications Soldier and hadn't received much infantry training, but the calmness she had shown in these three hours made Commander Lin Dong look at her with new respect.

"Received."

"Tune the frequency walkie-talkie to the backup channel, send a Morse code: CQ CQ CQ DE BD4SS, repeat three times, then send: Intelligent Mutant discovered, original plan cancelled, awaiting instructions."

Li Na paused for a moment: "Boss, this frequency is a derivative of the international distress band; if someone is monitoring..."

"What I want is for someone to be monitoring."

Li Na stopped talking, took out the military handheld radio from her backpack, and began to tune the frequency.

Commander Lin Dong pressed his eye back to the scope.

The three Mutants were already close to the bus.

The Speed-Type was the fastest, the first to bolt to the left side of the bus, its withered fingers gripping the edge of the window to climb up.

Its movements were extremely fast, its limb joints able to bend in reverse to incredible angles, and it climbed to the roof in three seconds.

The Strength-Type was twice the size of an ordinary zombie, its shoulder muscles bulging high, and it smashed a fist into the bus door, the tempered glass cracking instantly.

And that Perception-Type...

Commander Lin Dong's scope locked onto it.

It didn't move.

Standing in the very center of the intersection, about twenty meters from the bus, motionless.

Its head was a circle larger than an ordinary zombie, with faint vascular patterns on the surface of its skull, its eyes milky white without pupils, but Commander Lin Dong could feel that it was "looking."

What was it looking at?

Commander Lin Dong looked along the direction of its "gaze"—that was the southeast, the direction they had come from, and also the direction where the barracks were located.

Damn.

Commander Lin Dong cursed inwardly.

Could this kind of Mutant perceive the "mental waves" of human gathering?

Or could it track the scent, heat, or some other information left behind that the Panel System didn't label?

No matter what it was, this thing couldn't be left alive.

"Boss!" Zhang Hai's voice suddenly became urgent, "They... they've started moving!"

Commander Lin Dong looked at the bus.

The Strength-type Mutant had already smashed the door and crawled into the vehicle.

The Speed-Type was scurrying around on the roof, as if patrolling.

And that Perception-Type finally took a step.

It wasn't walking with the stiff, shambling gait of a zombie, but—

Commander Lin Dong narrowed his eyes.

It was a tentative, cautious gait, almost as if it were "thinking."

It would pause for a second with every step, its head turning, milky white eyes scanning the surroundings.

It was checking for traps.

The intelligence level of this Mutant had already exceeded Commander Lin Dong's expectations.

"Boss," Li Na's voice came from behind, "The Morse code has been sent, no reply received."

"No rush," Commander Lin Dong said, his eyes not leaving the scope, "They need time to judge our position, and they also need time to decide if it's worth the risk."

"Who are they?"

"I don't know," Commander Lin Dong was very frank, "But those who can survive until now and still use radio monitoring are either remnants of the military or organized survivors."

"No matter which side it is, this Morse code will let them know that there are living people here, and they understand tactical communication."

Li Na was silent for two seconds: "You are... fishing?"

"It's a bet," Commander Lin Dong said, "Betting that there are more than just us surviving in this area."

"Betting that if they are smart enough, they will come over to take a look."

"Betting that on the third day of the apocalypse, humanity has not completely abandoned the instinct for cooperation."

When he said this, his tone was very calm, but Li Na heard what was beneath that calmness—it was the first reaction of a soldier after the collapse of order: find the organization, establish contact, and restore the chain of command.

Even if the hope was slim.

Even if it meant taking risks.

"It's going in," Zhang Hai suddenly said.

Commander Lin Dong looked at the Perception-type Mutant.

It had walked to the bus door, the Strength-type Mutant poked half its body out from inside, and there was an extremely brief "eye contact" between the two Mutants.

Then the Perception-Type crawled into the bus.

A few seconds later, heavy thumping sounds came from inside the bus, mixed with the sound of shattering glass.

"What are they looking for inside?" Zhang Hai asked.

"Looking for the sound source," Commander Lin Dong said, "Looking for the sound source that keeps playing but has no sign of human life."

He pressed the timer on his watch.

"Zhang Hai, keep reporting the count. Every fifteen seconds."

"Yes..."

Time ticked away second by second.

The zombie horde was still converging, and the number of zombies at the intersection had already exceeded four hundred.

Ordinary zombies surrounded the bus, some circling aimlessly, others beginning to wander into the surrounding buildings.

And those Mutants—the Perception-Type hadn't come out after going in.

The Strength-Type appeared at the bus window occasionally, smashed one or two seats, and then disappeared.

The Speed-Type had been on the roof the whole time, changing positions every few minutes, like some kind of alert mechanism.

Commander Lin Dong was waiting.

Waiting for the bus's horn to burn out or the battery to run dry.

He had calculated that a bus battery is generally 12V 200Ah, driving a 300W air horn, which could theoretically sound for 8 to 10 hours.

But that bus had already been damaged in the meteorite fall; he didn't know if the battery had leaked or if the wiring had short-circuited.

He could only wait.

He waited for eight minutes.

The thumping inside the bus stopped.

Commander Lin Dong's finger rested on the trigger.

Then, the horn sound stopped.

The intersection suddenly became quiet.

The movements of the zombie horde showed a brief pause, like iron filings that had lost their magnetic field.

They began to move aimlessly, some walking into nearby alleys, others circling in place.

The Speed-type Mutant on the roof stopped, its head turning, seemingly searching for a new target.

Then it looked toward the southeast.

Toward the direction where Commander Lin Dong and the others were hiding.

"Did it find us?" Zhang Hai's voice was extremely low.

"No," Commander Lin Dong said, "But it knows that living people are in that direction."

This was the "instruction" left behind by the Perception-type Mutant before it left the bus—a vague direction, a target that needed to be searched for.

[part:gemini-3.0-flash]

The Speed-type Mutant jumped from the roof, landed on the bus's hood, then leaped to the ground and began moving toward the southeast.

As it moved, the surrounding zombie horde began to follow.

Not all of them, but about a third—over a hundred zombies—began to follow that Speed-type Mutant, moving slowly and tentatively toward Commander Lin Dong and his group.

"Fuck..." Zhang Hai cursed.

Commander Lin Dong did not move.

In his scope, the Speed-type Mutant's movement speed was 1.2 meters per second—it was in "Search Mode," not combat mode. Its knee joint had a slight lateral wobble with every step it took, a sign of incomplete joint mutation. Its head rotation frequency was once every three seconds, covering a 120-degree fan-shaped area.

Sets of data flashed through his mind.

Distance: 310 meters.

Zombie movement speed: 1.2 meters/second.

Time required to reach the hiding spot: 258 seconds.

Wind speed: 3.5 meters/second, southeast wind.

Ballistic drift: At a distance of 300 meters, a 7.62mm bullet will drift about 12 centimeters.

He could hit that Speed-type Mutant.

But after firing, the sound of the gunshot would attract the remaining four hundred zombies, including those two even more difficult Mutants in the bus.

He needed to make a choice.

"Li Na," he spoke.

"Present."

"Set the radio to Channel 3, set the transmission mode to voice, and say one sentence at maximum power: The target is moving toward you, distance three hundred, quantity one hundred and twenty, suggested engagement location is the abandoned Repair Shop ahead."

Li Na paused for a moment: "Boss, Channel 3 is... a civilian channel. Anyone can hear it."

"I want everyone to hear it," Commander Lin Dong said. "Let those eavesdropping on us know our current position, the threat we face, and our response plan. If they want to live, and if they want to be able to trade with living people in the future, they have to help us."

"What if they don't help?"

"Then we rely on ourselves."

Li Na took a deep breath, pressed the transmit button, and repeated Commander Lin Dong's words in as clear a voice as possible.

As soon as she finished speaking, Commander Lin Dong began to adjust the scope's settings.

He was going to start timing.

The Speed-type Mutant was approaching with the zombie horde.

Commander Lin Dong's watch timer showed: T+1 minute 30 seconds.

He glanced at the Repair Shop to the left—it was an abandoned private Repair Shop. Three scrapped vans were parked under the corrugated metal shed, the ground was covered in oil stains, and there were several 200-liter waste oil drums. If they set an ambush there, they could use the oil drums to create an explosion and block the horde's pursuit route.

But he did not move.

He was waiting.

Waiting for a signal.

Waiting for those monitoring the radio to make a decision.

"Boss," Zhang Hai's voice trembled slightly, "they'll be here in two minutes."

"I know."

"Are we retreating or not?"

"We're not retreating."

"But—"

"Zhang Hai," Commander Lin Dong interrupted him, "how many years did you serve in the military?"

"Two... two years."

"Have you ever practiced target shooting?"

"Yes."

"A 400-meter chest target—how many hits out of ten?"

Zhang Hai blanked for a second: "I've... I've hit them all before."

"Then that's enough," Commander Lin Dong said. "No matter what happens later, fire on my command. Aim carefully and don't waste bullets."

Zhang Hai said no more, set up his rifle, and stared through the scope at the approaching zombie horde.

T+2 minutes.

The Speed-type Mutant was about 150 meters away from them.

Commander Lin Dong could clearly see its face—it was the distorted face of a young man, his eyes shriveled into two black holes, his mouth agape to reveal jagged teeth. His skin was grayish-brown, clinging to the bone like a layer of cheap plastic sheeting.

It was sniffing.

Its nose was twitching, as if tracking a scent in the air.

Commander Lin Dong knew what it was—sweat, adrenaline, the pheromones unique to living humans.

T+2 minutes 30 seconds.

The Speed-type Mutant suddenly stopped in its tracks.

Its head snapped to the left—toward the Repair Shop.

Commander Lin Dong's pupils contracted slightly.

Was there movement in the Repair Shop?

A second later, he heard it.

The roar of engines.

Not cars, but motorcycles.

One, two, three—

Three motorcycles rushed out from the alley behind the Repair Shop. There were two people on each bike; the person on the back seat held a fire axe, a machete, or a shotgun.

The lead motorcycle charged straight for the Speed-type Mutant.

The Mutant moved.

Its speed was astonishing as it made an explosive sprint at 7.5 meters per second, nearly the speed of an electric scooter. It lunged at the lead motorcycle, hands outstretched, the nails on its ten fingers like ten curved daggers.

The motorcyclist jerked the handlebars, the tires screeching and trailing smoke on the asphalt as he narrowly swerved past the Mutant's side. The person on the back seat took the opportunity to swing a fire axe, hacking it fiercely into the Mutant's shoulder.

The axe blade bit three centimeters deep, getting stuck in the bone.

The Mutant's HP dropped by 27 points.

It turned around, grabbed the axe handle with one hand, and yanked it out. The axe was pulled from its shoulder along with bits of shredded flesh; the blood was black and viscous like engine oil.

Then it pounced toward the motorcycle.

"Fire!" Commander Lin Dong's voice exploded in everyone's ears.

Gunshots rang out.

Commander Lin Dong's first shot hit the Mutant's right knee joint—a weak point with a defense coefficient of 0.4. The 7.62mm bullet tumbled the moment it penetrated the skin, shredding the entire knee joint into fragments.

The Mutant lost its balance and collapsed to the ground.

The bullets from Zhang Hai and the other two soldiers arrived simultaneously.

Five bullets: two missed, three hit—one in the back and two in the head.

[Lv.3 Speed-type Mutant]

HP: 0/200

Status: Deceased

The Mutant's body twitched twice and then went still.

But the battle was not over.

The hundred-plus ordinary zombies behind it were still approaching.

The motorcycle team didn't stop. The three bikes split into three directions and began circling the zombie horde to draw their attention. The people on the back seats brandished their weapons and let out various strange cries, gradually leading the zombies toward the Repair Shop.

Commander Lin Dong instantly understood their tactic.

"Everyone, retreat to the Repair Shop and take the high ground!" he ordered. "Li Na, you stay here and tell them over the radio that we're coming!"

They began to retreat.

Behind them, the sounds of gunshots, engines, and zombie growls blended together.

Meanwhile, near the bus in the distance, the remaining four hundred zombies began to stir.

The Strength-type Mutant poked its head out of the bus window and looked toward the sound of the gunshots.

It began to move this way.

On the corrugated metal roof of the Repair Shop, Commander Lin Dong lay on the edge, observing the battlefield through his scope.

The motorcycle team had already led the hundred-plus ordinary zombies to the open space in front of the Repair Shop. The three bikes were weaving and circling, throwing the horde into chaos. The people on the back seats used long-poled weapons to stab and knock down the zombies one by one, but no one got off their bikes—they knew very well that once they hit the ground, they would be submerged by the horde.

"Are these people... regulars?" Zhang Hai asked breathlessly as he lay beside Commander Lin Dong.

"No," Commander Lin Dong said. "Regulars wouldn't use fire axes."

"Then they're..."

"Survivors," Commander Lin Dong said. "Organized survivors."

His gaze swept over them—six men and three women, ranging in age from their early twenties to their forties. They wore a variety of clothes, but their movements were skilled and their coordination was seamless. Their motorcycles had been modified with protective plates on the back, off-road tires, and spare oil drums tied to the fuel tanks.

By the third day of the apocalypse, they had already completed basic organization and armament.

This indicated two things.

First, their core figures were either veterans, police officers, or some kind of extreme survivalists.

Second, this wasn't their first time fighting zombies.

Commander Lin Dong raised his muzzle and aimed at the Strength-type Mutant approaching in the distance.

At a distance of four hundred meters, the Mutant walked slowly but steadily. Behind it followed a dense, black mass of zombies—at least three hundred, which, combined with the hundred-plus that had originally followed the Speed-type, brought the total close to five hundred.

He needed to make a new decision.

"Li Na," he said into the walkie-talkie, "send a message on the same channel: Thanks for the support. Please rendezvous at the Repair Shop; we'll provide cover. Repeat it three times."

Li Na's confirmation came through the walkie-talkie.

A few seconds later, the motorcycle team's movements changed.

The lead bike began to close in on the Repair Shop, while the other two continued to circle, drawing the attention of the remaining zombies. As they approached the Repair Shop, Commander Lin Dong saw the motorcyclist look up at him.

It was the face of a man in his thirties with a buzz cut and a fresh scar on his left cheek; his eyes were sharper than those of an ordinary person who had just escaped death.

He nodded toward Commander Lin Dong.

Commander Lin Dong returned a gesture—Army Scout hand signals: Secure, enter, cover.

The man was slightly stunned for a moment, then he abruptly swerved the motorcycle into the Repair Shop's side door.

The other two bikes followed him inside.

Commander Lin Dong took a deep breath and realigned his scope on the Strength-type Mutant.

It was still two hundred meters from the Repair Shop.

Behind him, the sound of cluttered footsteps came from the Repair Shop floor.

"Everyone," he said without looking back, "check your ammunition and prepare for engagement."

The Repair Shop's iron gate slammed shut behind them.

At the distant intersection, the Perception-type Mutant finally stepped out of the bus.

It stood at the bus door, its milky white eyes looking toward the Repair Shop.

Then it opened its mouth.

It let out a sharp, piercing shriek.

That sound pierced through the five-hundred-meter distance, through the corrugated metal roof, through Commander Lin Dong's eardrums, and reached deep into his brain.

A line of red warning text suddenly jumped onto his panel:

[Warning: Mental wave interference detected]

[Perception-type Mutant is attempting a mental link]

[Suggestion: Eliminate target immediately]

Commander Lin Dong's finger was on the trigger.

But he did not fire.

Because after that shriek, those five hundred zombies in the distance stopped in their tracks at the same time.

Then they all turned around at once.

Toward the Repair Shop.

They began to run.

[End of Chapter]