Chapter 142: Victory and Capture Alive

What is the realm of the Fourth-tier Gene? Xie Han had once asked Zhou Ruomeng this very question, and the answer he received was remarkably simple: strength, speed, and resistance! In this apocalyptic era, Xie Han cared little for raw strength and speed, as both could be augmented through technological means. Resistance alone—specifically, resistance against the XR virus—was something modern technology could not yet replicate. The strength of one's resistance determined how long one could survive in the desolate wasteland.

Was the XR virus terrifying? This question needed no answer, for its reality was already a catastrophe. Xie Han had also asked Zhou Ruomeng whether his resistance could withstand the X virus. The result was a hesitant nod and shake. Resistance was not a panacea, because XR viruses varied in potency. For instance, the XR virus carried by an R2 zombie was far more potent than that of an ordinary zombie. While one's resistance might fend off the virus of a common zombie, it did not guarantee immunity against the strain harbored by an R2.

Being able to resist the X virus of ordinary zombies sounded somewhat useless, especially since Xie Han's own third-tier combat prowess already kept common zombies at bay; even against an R2, he was confident in achieving a one-hit kill. If he could not fully resist the XR virus of level R3 and above, what was it if not useless?

Even so, in the apocalypse, who wouldn't want their immunity enhanced? Who could predict every accident? Moreover, for Xie Han, his abilities were entirely dictated by his genetic tier. What he possessed, he possessed; what he lacked, he lacked, and there was no changing it by sheer will. Besides, having more skills never weighed one down. Improving his resistance meant elevating his combat power to a new level. At the very least, if he were scratched by an ordinary zombie, he wouldn't need to fear perishing from the infection.

As for why his hair and skin had changed color, Zhou Ruomeng's explanation was equally concise: strength! This seemingly simple word encompassed a multitude of things. Once a person's strength broke through its ultimate limit, it usually triggered a structural transformation in the human body. Imagine an empty cup: if water represented strength, pouring in half a cup meant possessing half a cup's worth of power, while filling it to the brim meant reaching the absolute limit of your current capacity. To increase your strength further, the only method was to expand the volume of the cup itself so it could hold more water.

The third-tier gene was the absolute maximum threshold Xie Han's body could bear. Advancing to the fourth tier was far beyond what his physical vessel could naturally handle, so the escalating genetic energy naturally began remodeling him from within. Though this process sounded somewhat mystical, science had a name for it: DNA recombination. Yet, while human understanding usually associated DNA recombination with complex laboratory procedures, in Xie Han's case, it was being executed purely by his own surging genetic energy.

Human DNA was undeniably profound. Even though humanity had successfully mapped the chromosomes, that accomplishment merely scratched the surface of the infinite mysteries locked within the double helix. No one could predict what would occur during DNA recombination. Fortunately, the genetic restructuring within Xie Han's body proceeded along a preordained path; although the process was agonizingly painful, it was ultimately entirely risk-free.

Xie Han did not need to deliberately analyze the changes brought by the recombination; every difference manifested naturally. Like a vast chasm, the third and fourth tiers represented a fundamental alteration in concept. The magnitude of his strength and the velocity of his movement were evident just from his current display of sheer speed. Xie Han firmly believed that had he broken through to the fourth-tier gene just a bit earlier, an R3 zombie would never have driven him to such desperate straits, where every encounter narrowly skirted death.

Survivors in the apocalyptic wasteland invariably possessed exceptionally keen nervous reflexes and reaction times. The zombies' ambush was designed to inflict heavy casualties only on unprepared vanguard troops, and since the number of lurking undead was relatively small, not everyone was caught and torn apart. Nimble soldiers needed only a few agile dodges to widen the distance between themselves and the horde. For ordinary zombies lacking high mobility, distance equated to death.

Here, the crucial role of the squad leaders became apparent. Following a brief moment of panic and under the stern commands of their officers, the surviving soldiers began a disciplined tactical retreat. Naturally, the speed of ordinary zombies could not match that of sprinting humans. Once the gap was established, and despite the pursuing horde, the soldiers re-formed their lines fifty or sixty meters away. Dense volleys of gunfire erupted once more, dropping the charging zombies in droves.

This ambush proved to be merely a minor interlude, yet it inflicted over a thousand casualties upon the ranks. At that moment, Chen Liu was plagued by suicidal thoughts. As the commander-in-chief, he had failed to thoroughly evaluate the situation and had rashly ordered a premature pursuit, precipitating the disaster. To Chen Liu, those thousand-plus soldiers had essentially been sent to their deaths by his own negligence. What was supposed to be a brilliantly executed victory had degraded into a Pyrrhic triumph, even if every last remaining zombie were slaughtered now.

Aside from these hidden ambushers, the rest of the undead horde did not halt; they continued their retreat toward Wangtian City. The soldiers quickly cleared out the remaining lurking threats, but this time, no one dared to advance rashly. They could only patrol the perimeter surrounding the charred corpses.

"Resume the pursuit... Instruct the soldiers to check the bodies carefully on the ground. Anyone whose skull isn't smashed gets a supplementary shot." Xie Han's cold voice pierced Chen Liu's ears, immediately easing the commander's hesitant indecision. Noticing the subtle changes in Xie Han, Chen Liu suddenly realized that the young man radiated an absolute, bone-chilling frost. An oppressive aura emanated from his frame, stripping away any lingering trace of the amiable demeanor the veteran had once associated with him.

Not daring to meet Xie Han's gaze directly, Chen Liu turned to his adjutant and commanded, "Order the troops to press the pursuit, but remain vigilant for concealed zombies." The adjutant acknowledged the order and departed, casting a timid glance at Xie Han as he left. A head of fiery red hair no longer suggested warmth; instead, it exuded a lethal chill.

"Xie... Kid, I will take full responsibility for this incident," Chen Liu said through gritted teeth. A loss of over a thousand men was a severe blow to New City; someone had to step forward to bear the blame.

Xie Han shook his head. "Who could have anticipated that the Controller possessed such tactical intelligence? We can only say our understanding of the Controllers remains far too superficial. Responsibility? Who isn't culpable? Perhaps we simply underestimated the zombies. This blood-soaked lesson is valuable at the least, forcing us to realize that when dealing with the undead—even the most common variety—we can never afford to let our guard down. We must always give our all. Order the machine gun units to fall back and deploy from the trucks. Even if there are hidden zombies, we won't need to fear them."

The heavy weapon squads withdrew, boarding the waiting transport trucks and mounting their machine guns along the vehicle rails. Dozens of heavy trucks roared down the highway, charging toward the fleeing zombie horde. The charred corpses littering the asphalt were crushed beneath the heavy tires into fine black powder, a testament to the devastating potency of the incendiary bombs—unquestionably the ultimate bane of the undead.

Ultimately, the soldiers stepped back into the field of corpses, advancing slowly and methodically searching for any lingering threats. Perhaps the tactical repertoire of the Controller was limited to that single trap; all the way forward, no further ambushes were discovered. Yet no one dared to grow complacent, pumping a finishing round into any corpse that looked suspicious. Consequently, the rate of advance remained measured.

The machine gun units opened fire first. During the previous ambush, they had suffered minimal losses because their heavy weaponry was cumbersome and slow to maneuver, a factor that ironically kept them out of the immediate kill zone. Humankind prided itself on being the most intelligent species, yet they had been effortlessly manipulated by the Controller, a humiliation that stoked a furious blaze in every soldier's chest. The machine guns served as the ultimate outlet for their wrath, spitting streams of lead like water as they swept across the advancing horde, mowing down rank after rank.

Xie Han drew his Tiger Tooth blade, spinning it in a fluid arc before charging directly into the thick of the zombie swarm. He was not trying to play the hero; rather, he needed to demonstrate his absolute capability as the commander of New City through undeniable action, proving that his authority extended far beyond mere rhetoric.

To Xie Han, ordinary zombies posed zero threat. With his heightened reaction speed, these run-of-the-mill ghouls were far too slow to pose a challenge. A wolf entering a flock of sheep best described the scene; every flash of the Tiger Tooth cleaved a skull in two. Xie Han moved with blistering velocity, leaving a domino-like trail of fallen corpses in his wake.

Perhaps fueled by collective fury, the intensity of the assault escalated, turning the engagement into a rout. Out of the original million-plus zombies, less than a third remained. Gazing across the landscape, the world seemed built entirely of corpses, piled interlocked and densely packed across fields, hillsides, and roadways as far as the eye could see.

While splitting a zombie's skull with a slash of his blade, Xie Han experienced a sudden, subtle anomaly—an almost imperceptible hesitation in the creature's movements. *The Controller has finally made its move...* A swirl of conflicting emotions churned within him. Without hesitation, he decapitated another zombie, stamped his foot hard against the earth, and leaped several meters into the air to survey the broader swarm.

Without warning, a heavy transport truck was blasted into the midair, throwing a dozen machine gunners from the bed. They fell screaming, slamming violently onto the asphalt. Xie Han's acute hearing caught the sickening crunch of breaking bones buried beneath the roar of the engine explosion.

"There..." Less than thirty meters from the ruined truck, a zombie moved with a fluid, calculated grace entirely uncharacteristic of the mindless horde. Elation surged through Xie Han. Landing lightly, he sprang forward once more, hurtling directly toward the Controller. Holding his Tiger Tooth horizontally, he sliced through scores of zombies that crossed his path, cutting them cleanly in two.

The primary reason this Controller had exposed itself was that the machine gun mounted on the truck posed a mortal threat to its safety, forcing it to eliminate the hazard. Yet this played right into Xie Han's hands. He might spare the ordinary zombies, but the Controller had to die. Just as the monsters operated by their own metrics of threat, Xie Han had his own baseline; today's display crossed that red line, sealing its fate.

Though the Controller was over a hundred meters away, ordinary zombies were mere playthings before a fourth-tier warrior. Closing within fifty meters, Xie Han bounded into the air again. At the apex of his leap, the Starburst pistol materialized in his grip. With a sharp crack, a blossom of crimson and shattered bone erupted from the Controller's skull, sending its ruined carcass tumbling into the churning mass of bodies below, instantly swallowed by the surging horde.

True to past observations, the zombies lost all coordination the moment the Controller died, scattering like loose sand. Reverting to feral instincts, they turned upon the human soldiers with the single-minded ferocity of sharks smelling blood in the water.

Having analyzed the behavioral patterns of the Controllers prior to battle, the commanders had fully briefed the troops on what would happen upon the entity's demise. Thus, when the chaotic horde suddenly surged forward, every soldier understood the situation. Amidst cheering ranks, the gunfire never ceased. Compared to an organized enemy, the soldiers actually preferred fighting these erratic, disorganized beasts.

Still, a dozen or so frenzied zombies managed to inflict some bitter losses on the rearguard before the lines stabilized. Fortunately, the initial buffer distance of several hundred meters afforded them enough leeway. Through steady, point-blank rifle fire, the troops retreated step-by-step, restoring their defensive posture.

Xie Han withdrew from the thick of the melee. His ability to move through the swarm with effortless impunity did not go unnoticed, earning him gazes of profound awe from the troops—the exact reaction he desired. The contrast between the uncoordinated remnants and the retreating main body made it clear: another Controller still guided the remaining hundred-thousand-strong faction from deep within the formation.

"With that target identified, let's see how you escape this," Xie Han sneered. Retrieving a supersized GGB biological canister from his spatial storage, he muttered, "This was originally prepared for physical combat-type R3s, but it seems it won't be necessary there." His storage was stocked predominantly with weaponry, and moments later, a heavily modified sniper rifle appeared in his hands.

With a powerful heave, Xie Han hurled the massive GGB canister high above the retreating horde. Without pausing, he snapped the sniper rifle to his shoulder and pulled the trigger, shattering the glass shell mid-air. The canister burst into a massive, descending water curtain that showered the moving zombies below. Like a cleansing bath, the mist enveloped a hundred-meter radius, drenching hundreds of undead.

Silent dissolution followed; hundreds of zombies collapsed simultaneously without a sound.

This display of god-tier marksmanship instantly triggered a fresh wave of cheers among the soldiers, who were equally astounded by Xie Han's monstrous arm strength. The GGB canister weighed at least five or six pounds, yet he had lobbed it three to four hundred meters through the air. What kind of concept was that? Every soldier now firmly believed that the legends circulating about New City were entirely true. When the commander could single-handedly slay terrifying entities like the Hunters, what level of power did that actually require?

Xie Han's prestige reached its absolute peak, forged at the intersection of myth and reality. Far in the rear, Chen Liu gazed at him with a complex expression, murmuring, "The kid is no longer the kid he used to be, and that stunt was pulled off brilliantly. Haha, well, at least he won't have to worry about anything now, right?" A long-overdue smile touched Chen Liu's face as he remarked to his adjutant, "This feeling is truly wonderful, haha..."

By this point in the battle, humanity's victory was virtually secured. After surrounding and annihilating the directionless remnants, the troops began methodically devouring the rest of the horde. Xie Han's objective was explicitly clear—to place a definitive period at the end of this campaign: capture the Controller alive.

Yes, the goal sounded absurd, but under the current circumstances, it was entirely feasible. Stripped of its network of zombie minds, a Controller was even less formidable than a single ordinary zombie. Recognizing this weakness, Xie Han had deliberately avoided executing the discovered Controller, choosing instead to systematically prune its escort.

The Controller hiding within the throng finally panicked, realizing it could no longer conceal itself. It unleashed a desperate mental psychic wave directed at the largest target—a heavy transport truck. Yet the five-minute recovery window between its psychic attacks gave the soldiers' firing lines more than enough time to wipe out its remaining bodyguards.

Time slipped away until the massive horde was reduced to fewer than a thousand individuals, cornered within a narrow mountain valley.

Isolated among the dwindling cluster of ordinary ghouls, the Controller instantly stood out. Its face twisted in visible terror, and unlike the mechanical stillness of the others, it darted frantically back and forth, making it conspicuous amidst the static crowd.

Driven by panic, it attempted a final counterattack. Baring its teeth, it spat a silent wave of mental energy toward the surrounding soldiers, knocking two men to the ground. Yet, defying expectations, the two soldiers suffered only minor injuries; groaning for a moment, they promptly climbed back to their feet.

Xie Han laughed heartily. "Soldiers! Whose marksmanship is sharp enough to clear away the rest of these guards?" Nearly four thousand riflemen lowered their weapons in unison. As a dense flurry of gunfire cracked through the air, the remaining thousand zombies were whittled down until only a few dozen stood isolated around the Controller.

At that moment, the Controller resembled a tiger stripped of its claws and teeth, scurrying nervously within the confined space with a profoundly comical expression of despair. Normally, these entities relied on drawing psychic resonance from massive crowds of zombies, utilizing themselves as broadcast towers to unleash mental attacks. With its army of hundreds of thousands wiped out, its singular mode of offense was entirely dismantled.

With the threat neutralized, fear evaporated. Boldly leading Chen Liu and a cadre of officers up the slope overlooking the narrow valley, Xie Han swept his gaze across the assembled troops and raised a hand. All discussion instantly ceased, plunging the valley into absolute silence. Gripping his Tiger Tooth, Xie Han pointed at the scurrying entity below and roared, "Soldiers, what is that?"

"A Controller!" The response erupted like a tsunami, causing the creature at the bottom of the valley to shudder violently.

Xie Han proclaimed, "Indeed, it is the infamous Controller—the entity capable of commanding hundreds of thousands of the undead. In human terms, it is the brain, the supreme commander of a vast army. Soldiers, do you remember that Wangtian Base was destroyed by millions of zombies manipulated by this very kind of monster?"

More than half of the soldiers present were survivors from Wangtian Base, and the nightmare of that endless ocean of corpses remained forever etched in their minds. Their hatred for the Controllers burned hotter than anyone else's.

"Kill it! Kill it!" Endless battle cries became the sole rhythm of the valley. Had Xie Han not reined them in, the creature would have been beaten into a pulp of flesh long ago.

Xie Han raised the Tiger Tooth once more, silencing the war cries. "Perhaps it was directly responsible for Wangtian Base, or perhaps not, but the thousand comrades we lost today fell because of its commands. We will kill it—that is certain—but not right now. If we simply slaughter it here and now, how could we look our fallen brothers in the eye? Only by offering its blood as a sacrifice before their souls can we appease their lingering grief and comfort their spirits in heaven."

This time, cheers were replaced by a solemn, brooding remembrance of fallen comrades. After a moment of silence, every soldier raised their rifles high, fixing their unwavering gaze upon Xie Han.

With a wave of Xie Han's hand, a dozen soldiers rushed down into the valley, each gripping a narrow, meter-long battle saber and a coil of steel wire. Facing dozens of zombies with a mere dozen men seemed an uneven match, but beneath the flashing blades, the remaining undead were swiftly decapitated. This visceral, close-quarters melee carried a visual impact far more staggering than long-range gunfire, and the rolling heads set the blood of every observer boiling.

The Controller moved no faster than an ordinary zombie, rendering its panicked evasions utterly futile. A dozen steel ropes wrapped around it layer by layer, trussing it tightly. It bared its mouth, exposing white teeth and dark gums, emitting a muffled, frustrated roar. Yet no one paid attention to its struggles; once tightly bound, it was dragged toward a waiting transport truck.