The evening at Dong Kinh Camp passed without the noise typical of other places.
There was no music, no alcohol, only the sound of metal lightly clashing as people repaired gear, the whispers of exchanging rations, and footsteps growing accustomed to the darkness.
Thuong Sinh sat on a shipping container, sword placed across his thighs; he was not cultivating, nor was he sleeping, only watching.
There were too many small movements here: glances flickering past, footsteps changing direction upon seeing him, sentences abruptly lowered in tone. It was not pure fear, but calculation.
Lam Thanh Moc sat not far from him, using her ability very lightly to activate a dry vine branch, softening it and then tying it into a stronger rope.
A moment later, someone arrived.
Three people, two men and one woman, not carrying weapons overtly, but with steady footsteps and alert eyes. The type of people who were neither commoners nor bandits.
The one leading spoke first: "Not disturbing you, am I?"
Thuong Sinh did not look up.
"Depends on the next sentence."
The other person chuckled softly, showing no sign of irritation.
"My name is Tran Tu Binh." "In charge of the southern clearance team."
He pointed behind him: "Tomorrow night, toward the old cold storage, there are signs of a horde gathering; it's not large, but there is something leading them."
"Mutated?" Lam Thanh Moc peeked out to ask.
"Not certain yet," Tran Tu Binh replied.
Only then did Thuong Sinh look straight at him.
"Did you come to report news?"
"No, I came to ask." "Will you take the job?"
The surrounding atmosphere stiffened slightly. What did taking a job at the camp mean? It meant standing on the blurred boundary between protector and butcher. Kill wrongly, people die; don't kill, and even more die.
Thuong Sinh was silent for a few seconds.
"I do not take orders."
Tran Tu Binh nodded immediately, as if he had prepared the answer beforehand.
"I know, that is why I came to ask, not to force." He looked straight at Thuong Sinh. "We don't need you to rush to the front; only if something crosses the fence, you block it." "Only block it; no chasing, no clearing."
Lam Thanh Moc looked at Thuong Sinh; she didn't speak. But her eyes asked very clearly: what do you plan to do?
Thuong Sinh bowed his head, hand placed on the sword hilt; after a moment, he spoke.
"I will only act if people are dragged into it." "Not a moment sooner."
Tran Tu Binh let out a soft sigh of relief, as if a weight had been lifted.
"That is enough."
The three left very quickly, not lingering, nor trying to curry favor.
Only then did Lam Thanh Moc speak: "You are gradually standing at the center."
"I know," Thuong Sinh replied.
"Aren't you afraid?"
He raised his head to look at the dark sky.
"I am." "But hiding is even more of a nuisance."
A gust of wind blew through the camp, carrying a chill. Far off, toward the old cold storage, something was moving, very lightly and very slowly.
Near midnight, Dong Kinh Camp was submerged in darkness. Oil lamps gradually went out, leaving only a few watchtowers maintaining faint light. Those who were tired slept; those who were used to it pretended to sleep.
Thuong Sinh at this moment sat at the container exit, leaning against the iron wall, circulating the [Vile Blood Heart-Corroding Art]. Deep purple-black veins rose across his body, tangled like spiderwebs. Meanwhile, outside, there was a large vibration.
At the old cold storage hidden behind several collapsed factory rows—there was a scent. It wasn't the smell of fresh blood, but rather like the scent of something accumulating; it only appears when there are many old corpses, torn apart and then abandoned long enough to ferment.
The third watch of the night. The sky was currently pitch black. Tran Tu Binh approached. By this time, Thuong Sinh had returned to his normal state, merely leaning his back against the iron plate behind him with his eyes closed.
Tran Tu Binh did not bring his team; he was alone, his coat covered in dust, dark circles under his eyes.
"Change of plans," he said bluntly. "The old cold storage isn't the assembly point, just a lead-in point."
Only then did Thuong Sinh open his eyes.
"Where is that thing?"
Tran Tu Binh took a deep breath: "The underground sewers, beneath the highway line." "There is something... pulling them toward that place."
Lam Thanh Moc frowned slightly: "Another mutated zombie?"
"No." Tran Tu Binh shook his head. "If it were that, there would have been noise." "This thing... knows restraint," he said after a beat.
The atmosphere turned somber for a while. Knowing restraint meant having logic, or at least, having habits.
Thuong Sinh asked the only question that needed asking: "Has anyone gone down there yet?"
Tran Tu Binh did not answer immediately; a moment later he replied: "Three people." "They haven't come up yet."
Without needing to ask more, Thuong Sinh nodded.
"I will go there to see."
Tran Tu Binh looked at him in surprise, his eyes narrowing slightly: "You only said you would block."
Thuong Sinh neither denied nor explained. He straightened his back, leaving the cold iron plate behind him.
"I didn't say I was going down there now," he said.
Tran Tu Binh's frown deepened: "Then what do you plan to do?"
Thuong Sinh looked toward the east of the camp, where the faint oil lamp light could not reach, leaving only a patch of darkness.
"That thing hasn't shown its face because it doesn't need to yet, but it is gathering them." He turned his head to look at Tran Tu Binh: "Not gathering a few." "It's pulling the whole horde."
Hearing this, Lam Thanh Moc's expression changed slightly. Her ability spread thin across the ground, quickly sensing vague, disjointed vibrations, but the number... was not small.
"It could be a vast number of low-tier zombies."
Tran Tu Binh tightened his coat strap: "Are you sure?"
Thuong Sinh said nothing, just looking at him.
"If it were an ordinary mutated zombie, it would have hunted around this camp long ago." "But it didn't do that."
Lam Thanh Moc spoke up to continue: "Which means it knows this camp shouldn't be touched yet."
Tran Tu Binh took a deep breath: "Then why not kill it now?"
Thuong Sinh looked at him, his gaze very direct: "Why should I do that?"
The atmosphere grew heavy; Tran Tu Binh froze slightly at that question. Not because there was no answer, but because he suddenly realized Thuong Sinh had never stood in the same position as them. To this camp, it was an impending disaster. But to Thuong Sinh, it was just a variable.
"Because if you don't kill it, the whole horde will be pulled here," Tran Tu Binh said slowly.
"I know," Thuong Sinh replied.
"Then—"
"Then why should I clear it for you? I only accepted the request that if there is chaos, I will act." Thuong Sinh interrupted him, his voice not loud but very clear.
The air went dead silent; the night wind blew through the iron fence, carrying the cold damp smell from the distant sewers. Tran Tu Binh looked at Thuong Sinh for a long time, finally realizing where the issue lay.
"You..." Tran Tu Binh said slowly. "Do not intend to go down the sewer, nor do you intend to block them from afar?"
"No," Thuong Sinh replied straight out. "I am not a person of this camp, nor am I part of the hunting-clearance team." He looked toward the darkness where the zombie horde was gradually drawing near, his voice calm to the point of being chilling: "I simply stand here. When they cross the line... then I will act."
Lam Thanh Moc, hearing this from behind, understood silently that it wasn't out of cruelty, but because of clarity. Thuong Sinh did not reject responsibility; he simply did not shoulder what did not belong to him.
Tran Tu Binh clenched his jaw, remaining silent for a very long time. Finally, he slowly nodded.
"I will report back to the camp manager."
"Yeah."
Tran Tu Binh turned his back and said nothing more.
Lam Thanh Moc watched him go, knowing in her heart very well that Thuong Sinh didn't lack concern for human lives; he simply did not allow anyone to turn him into a tool for salvation.
That night at Dong Kinh Camp, the lights remained on, while beyond the edge of that light, in the dark damp earth, that thing was gathering them into hordes and continuing to wait.
The fifth watch. At this time, the sunlight had not yet peeked out. The sound of metal lightly clashing came from the western watchtower—not an alarm, but the signal for a shift change. Dong Kinh Camp still maintained outward order, but beneath that layer of peace, tension had begun to spread like a spiderweb.
Thuong Sinh was still inside the container, sitting and circulating the [Vile Blood Heart-Corroding Art].
Beneath the earth, the vibration rhythm was clearer than before. No longer disjointed, no longer scattered, they were moving in rhythm—slow, but very orderly, as if something were coordinating them.
Lam Thanh Moc sat right beside Thuong Sinh; seeing the purple veins rising all over his body, she couldn't help but feel heartache, yet she didn't dare speak to disturb him.
A moment later, he opened his eyes.
"The distance has shortened."
"Yeah."
"Not more than one night left."
She also felt it clearly; she sensed beneath the ground that the vine fibers were vibrating more and more intensely.
Thuong Sinh did not reply; he only looked toward the camp, where the lamps shone on faces still going about their lives—laughing, talking, changing guard—those who early in the morning had already begun to go get today's rations.
"Do you think they can maintain order when it begins?" Lam Thanh Moc asked softly.
"No." His answer was very decisive.
Lam Thanh Moc was silent for a while then asked: "If so... you still wait?"
Thuong Sinh did not look at her, his eyes glancing toward that distant direction, sharpening.
"I wait for the boundary to be crossed." "Not the boundary of the land, but the boundary of the people." "As long as they maintain order, I will not move." "When they break it with their own hands—"
The sword hilt vibrated slightly at his hip.
"Then it is no longer a camp." "It is a battlefield."
A cold wind blew past, carrying a very faint metallic stench that only someone accustomed to blood like him could recognize.
Lam Thanh Moc took a deep breath; she did not object, nor did she persuade him, for she understood that from the moment Thuong Sinh set his conditions with the camp manager, the outcome had been destined.
The dark night drew toward its end.
Beneath the ground, the sound of scratching against concrete grew more and more frequent; on the surface, people began to wake up out of unease. Not because of an alarm, but perhaps because of instinct—a faint sound of metal falling somewhere in the camp, a person springing up from a folding bed, and then another sound suppressed in a throat.
Lam Thanh Moc was the one who felt it most clearly; the ground beneath her feet was changing rhythm.
It was no longer slow movement, but surges of pressure, the rear layer pushing the front. They were not running, nor were they in chaos. They were advancing, like a tide pulled by an invisible force.
"... It's here," she said softly.
Thuong Sinh had stood up and gone outside without anyone noticing. He didn't look at the camp, nor at the gate; he looked at the darkness between two rows of abandoned cars on the perimeter.
One zombie was stumbling out first. Then a second. A third.
They did not scream unconsciously; by their instinct, they walked like puppets on a string. The moment the fifth one appeared, only then did Thuong Sinh move.
Not lunging forward, he only took one step, standing in a hidden corner where the camp lights did not reach.
"Here," he whispered.
Lam Thanh Moc nodded, retracting her ability, leaving the ground just silent enough.
The first zombie had just touched the makeshift scrap iron boundary.
The first vibration did not come from the gate, but from beyond the edge of the firelight, where waste vehicles and makeshift fences were piled together.
A guard frowned.
"Did you hear something?"
Before the words could finish—
Boom—!
A body slammed straight into the iron door; the force wasn't large, but it was continuous. Then another, then three, four.
Roars began to ring out—not loud, but dense.
"Zombies!" "A zombie horde!"
The alarm bell rang one second late.
Tran Tu Binh was already at the front line. Along with seven others, including three ability users, he held the first line of defense—the vehicle fence and hastily welded iron plates.
"Keep the rhythm!" he shouted. "Don't let them cluster in one spot!"
That fire-type ability user swung his hand; flames erupted, burning down the first few.
The enhancement-type smashed zombie heads with a large iron hammer.
But there were too many; they didn't lunge chaotically, they squeezed bit by bit, layer upon layer, as if something in the back were coordinating every step of their advance.
"Dammit..." someone gasped. "They are pushing through."
The first fence began to warp.
"Fall back!" Tran Tu Binh roared. "Withdraw to the second line!"
The second line of defense was containers arranged in a U-shape, inside which were the armed group with rifles. When the last person had just jumped in—
Boom—!
The first line's fence collapsed; zombies poured in like water from a broken dam.
"Fire—!"
Gunshots rang out piercingly, flames lighting up a corner of the camp. Low-tier zombies fell in patches, but they did not slow down. Those that fell were immediately trampled, the ones behind climbing over the ones in front.
Then, a silhouette significantly taller than the others charged out from the middle of the horde; its skin was dark gray, muscles abnormally bulging, one arm dragging like a meat hammer.
Mid-tier zombie.