The Reborn Otaku’s Code of Practice for the Apocalypse – CH249

Chapter 249 — Harvest Season

The fruits in the base were on the verge of ripening, and to everyone’s delight, some of the longer-cycle vegetables and grains were also beginning to mature one after another. Fortunately, the harvest periods for these crops weren’t all crammed into the same window. Even so, the farmwork at home began to pile up sequentially from that point onward.

To make matters worse, the weather outside alternated between overcast and clear every couple of days. This gave the team a massive headache, as they were trying to air-dry the harvested crops. If it hadn’t been for Song Lingling stepping up to directly siphon the moisture from the greens, heaven only knew how much of their yield would have been left out for too long and ended up rotting past redemption before they could sun-dry it.

Naturally, there was a noticeable difference in flavor between vegetables that were flash-dried by siphoning and those dried traditionally under the sun. Luo Xun and the team stored the two variants in separate sections. The batches flash-dried by Song Lingling could always be taken to the next trade fair for liquidation if the opportunity arose—with their previous experience under their belts, they would act with far greater caution next time. Furthermore, these vegetables could also be held in reserve to craft fish feed or livestock rations, ensuring absolutely nothing went to waste.

The weather throughout September remained intensely muggy and sweltering. Fortunately, both the glass greenhouse and the main living blocks were fitted with ventilation and cooling systems. The team’s daily life, spent cooped up inside the complex, was remarkably comfortable.

Once they wrapped up the first heavy wave of the vegetable harvest, the group huddled around the massive dining table to pore over the newly received satellite photos for a briefing. Little Baozi had been placed on the table, which was layered with soft cushions, and was currently crawling along merrily…

That’s right, Luo Xun and Yan Fei’s “son” was currently traversing the table with absolute, frolicking joy. Although this child had taken significantly longer than a standard infant to learn how to roll over, his developmental velocity from rolling to sitting, and subsequently to crawling, progressed at a lightning-fast speed. Ever since he mastered crawling, he had seamlessly transformed into an entirely different biological species; he would frequently run himself ragged and fall fast asleep midway through a crawling lap, yet he remained utterly untiring and relentless.

Little Xinran had also kicked off her shoes to sit on the table and play with him. Granted, for the absolute safety parameters of the children, Yan Fei had previously constructed a loop of metal guardrails around the table perimeter, and they had stuffed a medley of soft cushions against the iron bars on all four sides to ensure the baby wouldn’t bump his head.

“That specific wave of zombies has finally drifted away… We still haven’t intercepted any internal communications from that base; it’s unclear whether its defenses were completely breached.” The members of the squad kept their heads down, analyzing the documents on their respective tablet terminals while exchanging notes.

“If it’s still holding out, associated updates are bound to broadcast within the next couple of days. If it’s been obliterated, alternative major bases will definitely exhibit some movement. Currently, the trajectory that zombie tide is charting…” Luo Xun scrolled through the meteorological maps, zooming in and out to cross-reference the coordinates. “They are breaking straight toward this coordinate… an alternative major base operating in the south, positioned strictly east of the previous base.”

Saying this, he raised his eyes in sudden surprise, peering over the guardrails to look at the rest of the crew. “They are targeting an alternative southern base next?”

Li Tie returned a bewildered gaze. “It appears so. Is there an anomaly?”

“…Do zombie tides normally operate along a pattern like this? Handily plowing through bases one by one sequentially? Standard behavior dictates that they lock onto a single unified path and march blindly along that trajectory until they hit a dead end; if they cross paths with a base along the way, they will pull over to besiege it for a stretch, before continuing along their original heading once the siege concludes, right?” Luo Xun systematically summarized his thoughts after a meticulous analysis.

Hearing his analysis, the group stared at one another in utter silence, none of them completely certain: “Perhaps… the raw scent of human flesh radiating from those two bases was far too dense?”

Luo Xun knit his brows in deep thought. Anchored on his flank, Yan Fei wrapped a steadying hand around his shoulder. “We can meticulously track the behavioral models of these zombie columns down the line, evaluating whether they exclusively target those massive structural bases, or if they plow through highly compact independent camps that even the official administration remains completely unaware of.”

Catching his words, a trace of silent anxiety rippled through everyone’s chest. Exchanging a succession of looks with one another, Han Li raised a hand to ask, “Brother Yan, if that’s the case, how exactly are we supposed to deduce whether they crossed into a compact camp that lacks an official administrative record?”

“If a compact independent base truly exists, even if the military high-ranking officials lack the intelligence and it fails to register on the macro maps, those zombies will still execute a siege. We merely require evaluating whether the columns pull over to linger across seemingly unremarkable coordinates to locate a structural pattern. Naturally, we can’t completely rule out the possibility that certain camps are far too compact in scale, allowing the horde to handily flatten the entire layout while simply passing through.”

The point Yan Fei raised was indeed an immensely critical parameter. If these zombies were merely sniffing out the raw scent of human flesh to execute a hunt, and thus primarily locked their focus onto major population centers, then things would be relatively manageable. But if these zombies truly operated on a logic where they would detour to forage anywhere a live human nested, then the probability was exceptionally high—they would inevitably march straight to their own base down the line!

Although the horde currently remained at an immense clearance distance from their coordinates, if they genuinely posed a threat to the team’s long-term survival parameters, absolutely no one could afford to relax their vigilance!

The golden month of September rapidly drew past, transitioning seamlessly into October. The migratory birds commenced their seasonal trek, and the colossal vanguard army of mutated fowl that had flown from south to north early on crossed back over their perimeter, charting a trajectory from north to south in a thunderous, majestic column that blanketed the skies.

Luo Xun and the team currently lounged across the recliners arranged beneath the grape trellises inside their glass greenhouse, comfortably soaking up the autumn sun.

This past month and a half had been grueling enough to run a survivor ragged. Because that massive zombie tide hung directly over their heads like a literal sword of Damocles, the group had temporarily reined in their desire for leisure, pouring their absolute focus into managing the crops, fruits, and vegetables that matured in succession, while simultaneously accelerating their pace to reinforce their base infrastructure and venture outside to harvest scrap metal.

Over these days, Luo Xun and the team had seamlessly transformed into an absolute pack of metal-obsessed fiends. The catalyst driving them to race across the perimeters wasn’t a desire to secure food or luxury items, but rather these unyielding, unchewable iron blocks that could never be digested.

It was profoundly fortunate that the absolute volume of lightning rods engineered across their base framework was perfectly sufficient. Otherwise, given the immense mass of raw metal anchored to this single coordinate, the lightning strikes generated during the previous rainstorms would have handily blown their entire complex straight into the sky.

Presently, having finally carved a brief window of leisure out of their frantic routine, the group could sit comfortably beneath the dense canopy of the grape trellises, handily soaking up a sunbath while admiring the migratory fowl crossing the upper atmosphere, sharing casual jokes while plucking grapes to consume.

Little Xinran was currently operating at a state of high intensity, guiding the puppy to fly down a custom slide structure. Although the interior playroom housed a functional slide as well, that fixture was significantly more compact and lower in height compared to the pristine structure Yan Fei had newly fabricated for her across this open ground; sliding down this variant was vastly more exhilarating.

Having run himself completely out of energy from his frantic crawling laps, little Baozi was currently nestled flat against Luo Xun’s chest, sleeping like a log. The drool leaking from his tiny mouth had thoroughly soaked through a custom towel Luo Xun had explicitly laid over his chest. However, fearing that the absolute moment he shifted his frame, this brat would wake up and start a massive racket, he could only compromise by letting the baby sleep undisturbed for the time being.

A short distance away, the twin eaglets had systematically shed over half of their mottled down, their plumage rapidly normalizing. However, the current physical bulk of these two specimens remained visibly smaller than the fully matured predators crossing the upper atmosphere outside. Furthermore, although they had thoroughly mastered the mechanics of running, leaping, and bounding across flat ground under little Xinran’s constant guidance, their absolute flight maneuvers remained visibly substandard. There was absolutely zero possibility of them seamlessly bounding along to trail behind those migratory flocks to fly back south, leaving them with no alternative but to continue nesting inside the complex to serve as household pets.

As for those two silly wolves, they weren’t holed up inside the complex tracks at this exact hour, having drifted off to god knows where across the wild to roam unrestrictedly. They would naturally double back on their own once dusk settled over the complex, requiring absolutely zero worry from Luo Xun’s team.

“Charting the path from their current coordinate straight to our base… the trajectory still hosts a baseline of at least five major structural bases. They shouldn’t be able to draw near our walls before the Lunar New Year hits.” The young men lounged comfortably to rest, their voices lowered as they systematically analyzed the shifting trends of that massive zombie tide.

The absolute advance velocity of that specific zombie tide ran far lower than the group’s past estimations. Originally, they had evaluated that this batch of zombies would have likely drawn near the perimeters of City A by this duration. Who would have thought that the horde would stubbornly march straight toward any base—be it large or small—along their entire trajectory? Ever since crossing the national border until now, they had systematically rambled across a significant portion of the domestic map, plowing through six or seven major structural bases along the way, two of which had been completely and thoroughly shattered during the sieges… The number of compact independent camps wiped out while passing through was likely vastly higher, but the team currently lacked explicit administrative records to verify the parameter, leaving them to rely on elementary deduction.

“They pull over to linger at every single major base for at least ten or so days; their most prolonged siege locked down a coordinate for a full twenty days, while their briefest run wrapped up in eleven days…” He Qiankun analyzed the timelines while raising a hand to scratch his chin, where a few loose strands of stubble had begun burrowing outward over the past few days, feeling slightly itchy. “Factoring in the duration consumed traveling between coordinates, managing to completely sort out a single base within a single month is already an excellent achievement.” Saying this, he blinked a pair of eyes to ask Luo Xun, “Brother Luo, when exactly do we begin deploying the defensive pitfalls?”

Luo Xun mulled over the timeline before raising his eyes to evaluate the sky outside. “Before this current month draws to a complete close…”

“That early?!” The entire crew was thoroughly startled. Previously, Luo Xun had explicitly stated that they merely required finalizing the pitfalls within a month or a brief half-month window right before the zombies drew near. Why on earth were they jumping the gun to pre-deploy them now, when the zombie tide remained at a massive distance that would consume at least four or five months to cross?

Luo Xun shot the group an exasperated glance, noting with a trace of an annoyed cadence, “Have all of your brains seamlessly forgotten what exact stretch of the year we are currently entering?” Saying this, he pointed a finger straight toward the upper atmosphere.

Li Tie and the young men raised their heads, staring in complete bewilderment as a flock of migratory waterfowl let out a succession of sharp quacks while gracefully gliding past the upper sky.

Zhang Su let out a cold snort through his nose, slanting his eyes in pure disdain. “It’s October. The absolute moment next month rolls around, it will be November.”

Catching that this pack of blockheads remained entirely anchored in a state of blank bewilderment, even Yan Fei couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Do any of your memories retain a single shred of what exact weather parameters hit us during November last year?”

“Last year?” Freezing once more for a tiny moment, a wave of absolute realization finally struck the group. And wasn’t that the truth? Throughout November last year, the region had weathered a monumental blizzard! Back during that duration, their squad still resided inside the City A Base proper, frantically rushing across the tracks daily to report for shift labor…

“Ah! It’s entirely because our household has been far too busy throughout this year; we completely busy-minded ourselves into erasing the parameter!” The young men slapped their foreheads in rapid succession, shaking their heads frantically to deflect the blame.

“Ain’t that the truth! Think about the half-year stretch since we exited the gates this spring; why is it that when I look back at our past lifestyle inside the base proper, it feels exactly like a memory extracted from a past life?”

“Exactly! Do you guys still recall? Back during that stretch last winter, the exact roads we had to navigate when deploying to the military barracks, and those towering snow drifts…”

As the pack of young men launched into a jumbled, rambling session to reminisce about the past, Luo Xun let out a couple of tactical coughs to check them: “I say—we absolutely must finalize the construction of the pitfalls before the heavy snow hits. The five interior facets lining every single pitfall cavity must be engineered using a hollow, layered framework; the hollow spaces will subsequently be injected with fresh water down the line. The absolute moment the first heavy blizzard hits this winter, we will execute a field run to pour the mushroom juice inside the cavities. Right before the zombie tide draws near, we will unmount the protective metal lids shielding the pits, and systematically activate the heating filaments to warm the water sealed within the hollow layers.”

Saying this, his brows knit into a slight frown. “This operational sequence would be best managed via a remote-control relay, but implementing a grid of that caliber on the fly is immensely troublesome…”

Once the mushroom juice absorbed heat, it would smoothly thaw into a liquid state. However, following the conclusion of the thawing sequence, if oncoming zombie units failed to immediately plummet into the cavity, the liquid would inevitably lock back into a solid sheet of ice under the freezing ambient parameters! Unless the absolute timeline mapped out in a manner where the zombie columns delayed their arrival until next spring rolled around—but that parameter remained completely beyond their capacity to control. Although evaluating the current data points, that specific timeline baseline appeared highly probable.

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