Doomsday police, please show your god/demon ID card.

A large crowd gathered in front of the bulletin board.

A notice with white background and black lettering was posted in the most conspicuous position, like a boulder thrown into a deep pool, stirring up a thousand waves.

"A volunteer recruitment notice?"

Someone read aloud, word by word: "The police research laboratory urgently needs the first batch of clinical volunteers for the physical enhancement drug."

Note: This drug is extracted from the crystal nuclei of infected organisms, with a mortality rate of approximately 22% and a disability rate of 15%...

The crowd erupted in an uproar.

"A 22% fatality rate? This isn't recruitment, it's suicide!"

"Exactly, isn't life good enough now? Captain Tang provides two full meals a day and we get work points, why would we want to be a guinea pig?"

"Let whoever wants to go, go ahead. I'm not done living yet anyway."

The discussions were mostly tinged with fear and hesitation. After all, in this apocalyptic world, simply surviving was the greatest luxury; who would willingly embrace death?

But on the outermost edge of the crowd, a one-armed man was staring intently at the notice.

His name is Chen Sheng, and his nickname is Lao Chen.

During the previous zombie horde attack, his left hand was bitten off by an infected creature. Although he survived, he was rendered useless.

According to the base's "Disability Compensation Regulations," he receives a full amount of food rations every month and doesn't even need to work.

To others, this is seen as enjoying a life of leisure.

But in Lao Chen's mind, this was death by a thousand cuts.

Every day, he watched his former comrades-in-arms go out on patrol with their guns on their backs, and watched the new recruits sweat on the training ground, while he could only sit under the wall in the sun, like a mangy dog ​​whose spine had been removed.

"Old Chen, what are you looking at?"

Suddenly, a hand patted his shoulder.

Chen Sheng turned his head and saw Old Zhang, who had just retired from the garrison.

Like him, he was also a retired police officer, but he had a limp, which he heard was left behind while clearing out zombies.

Old Chen pointed to the notice board, his voice slightly hoarse: "I'm reading my fortune."

"You're having second thoughts too?" Old Li lowered his voice, his tone complex.

"I'm not reconciled." Old Chen raised his bare left arm, the cut already healed, with an ugly growth on it: "Captain Tang is kind, he's taking care of us."

"But don't I want to be a freeloader for the rest of my life with a clear conscience?"

"Besides..." His eyes suddenly turned fierce: "If we can pull through, this hand... might even grow back, or become something even more powerful."

Old Li remained silent for a long time.

Then he took a deep breath, grinned, revealing his yellowed teeth: "Damn, you're right."

"Fortune favors the bold; if I die, consider it saving the base food!"

"If I survive... I'll go back and kill them all!"

"Together?"

"Together!"

Two incomplete figures walked resolutely towards the registration area against the retreating crowd.

They looked exactly like two gamblers about to be executed.

……

Main building, offices.

Zhao Fan held a list, his expression somewhat strange.

"Team Leader Tang, the registration channel is now closed."

Tang Long didn't even look up, fiddling with the Type 95 pistol in his hand: "How many people? Ten or less?"

Given the mortality rate, any normal person would weigh the pros and cons.

"Fifty-two."

Zhao Fan placed the list on the table and took a deep breath: "Moreover, most of them are veterans with physical disabilities or police officers who have been seriously injured before."

Tang Long's hand, which was wiping his gun, suddenly stopped.

He looked up, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes, which quickly turned into an indescribable depth.

"Fifty-two people!" Tang Long put down his gun, stood up, straightened his collar, and said in a deep, powerful voice, "Let's go to the lab."

"Don't keep them waiting."

"yes!"

"..."

The two quickly arrived at the laboratory.

When Tang Long pushed open the laboratory door, a strong smell of disinfectant hit him.

Fifty-two volunteers have completed their physical examinations and are now sitting in the waiting area in batches.

Some of them were trembling, some were resting with their eyes closed, and when they saw Tang Long coming over, some of them subconsciously stood up and saluted.

"Team Leader Tang!"

"Captain Tang, you're here!"

"..."

Tang Long waved his hand: "Please sit down!"

He walked up to the crowd, his gaze sweeping over the familiar yet unfamiliar faces, a complex emotion in his eyes.

There was Old Chen with a missing arm, Old Li with a limp, and several young men who had distinguished themselves in previous battles.

"I'll ask one last time."

Tang Long's voice echoed in the empty laboratory.

"If you take this injection, you might die, or you might go insane, or you might become a monster."

"It's not shameful to quit now."

A dead silence.

Three seconds later, Old Chen stood up.

He gave a somewhat awkward military salute with his only remaining right hand, grinned, and said, "Captain Tang, for people like us, every day we're alive is a bonus."

"Exactly!" someone chimed in. "If it weren't for Captain Tang, we would be dead already."

"If we can make it through and keep killing zombies, it'll be worth it!"

"That's right! Rather than die a cowardly death, it's better to take a gamble."

"..."

Tang Long remained silent for a long time. He turned his head to look at Chen Ming in the corner, who was still recording data.

"Chen Ming".

"Coming!" Chen Ming ran over. "What's up, Captain Tang?"

Tang Long looked at him.

I don't care about probability.

His voice was calm, as calm as a deep pool of water.

"Do your best."

"Ideally, no one should die."

Chen Ming's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately said solemnly, "Don't worry, Captain Tang!"

Tang Long took a deep breath.

"Then, begin the injection."

"yes!"

"......"

Ten minutes later!

After the final blood pressure test was completed, the experiment began.

what! ! !

A piercing scream shattered the tranquility of the laboratory.

The first three volunteers to receive the injection are currently being tightly bound to an alloy bed with specially made belts.

Their bodies convulsed violently, as if countless small snakes were writhing wildly beneath their skin, and their veins bulged like meandering earthworms.

Blood vessels ruptured, causing bleeding from the skin.

This forced recombination at the genetic level is tantamount to breaking and reassembling all the bones in one's body, and the level of pain is far beyond what ordinary people can imagine.

"Heart rate 180! Blood pressure off the charts!" Zhang Wennian stared at the monitor, sweating profusely. "This won't do, should we give him a sedative?"

"We can't go!" Chen Ming roared, shoving the nurse aside. "This is a crucial moment of the battle between willpower and the effects of the medication. If they're given the sedatives and their willpower weakens, they'll really turn into zombies!"

Tang Long stood outside the one-way glass, his hands behind his back, his eyes slightly dim.

Ten minutes later.

The first loser has appeared.

The young man in the middle suddenly stiffened, his convulsions abruptly stopped, his eyes widened, his pupils dilated, and a large amount of white foam gushed from his mouth.

"Blood pressure suddenly dropped! Heart rate 60...40...20..."

"Stop the injection! Declare failure!"

Chen Ming's voice was hoarse.

The assistant rushed over and frantically pulled out the syringe.

The man was carried off the plane, his body limp, like a boneless sack.

"The gene chain hasn't broken, but the enhancement is limited..." Chen Ming quickly glanced at the data and said in a low voice, "It can only be considered a pseudo-enhancement. Survival is not a problem, but limb regeneration is impossible."

The atmosphere became slightly more somber.

However, the screams inside the laboratory continued.

Immediately afterwards, another person convulsed and foamed at the mouth, clearly having failed.

Only Old Chen, the retired police officer with a missing arm, is still persisting.

"Ahhhhh!!!"

His voice grew increasingly hoarse, eventually cracking completely.

But he persisted, his veins bulging all over his body, his eyes bulging as he stared intently at the ceiling.

And so, they persevered for another ten minutes.

The screams of pain from Old Chen finally subsided.

at the same time.

At the stump of his severed arm, pale pink granulation tissue had sprouted; it was new tissue, as tender as a baby's skin.

"Old Chen." Chen Ming squatted down, his voice filled with suppressed elation, "Can you hear me?"

Old Chen blinked.

He opened his mouth, and a hoarse sound came from his throat:

"able."

"How are you feeling?"

Old Chen remained silent for a few seconds.

Then he raised his right hand and pointed to his severed arm.

"itch."

He paused, then forced an awful smile.

"It feels like bugs are burrowing inside."

Chen Ming paused for a second, then he smiled.

"It's itchy, that's good!"

He turned around and shouted in Tang Long's direction:

"Team Leader Tang! Old Chen did it!"

Tang Long stood behind the glass.

He remained silent.

But his shoulders relaxed slightly.

"Old Chen," he pressed the intercom, "Does it hurt?"

Old Chen turned his head with difficulty and looked in the direction of the one-way glass.

He grinned.

"pain."

"But it was worth it."

Tang Long nodded.

"have a good rest."