Chapter Thirty-Six: The Bone Knife

"Brother Cao, what are you doing?" I glanced up at Huo Bing, who was holding her head and staggering over, then continued with the task at hand.

"The bone spurs on its body are valuable. I checked earlier; they can pierce through sheet metal with ease, so slicing through flesh is no problem." In my hand was a whole bone spur that the corpse had thrown earlier. I used it to cut open the mutant corpse's body.

My intentions were clear: if I could pry off another piece, I could fashion a pair of makeshift blades. In fact, with bone spurs this thick, calling them ‘spurs’ seems off—they’re more like bone blades.

The only drawback was that gripping them wasn’t as comfortable as holding a knife handle, but I already had a solution for that.

Soon, I fetched a roll of bandages from my pack in the armored vehicle, wrapped the end of the bone blade a dozen times or more, and finally, it was comfortable enough to hold.

"Brother Cao, you really are a genius. But if you get hurt by that bone blade, will you turn into a corpse? There must be a source of infection on its bones..." Huo Bing stammered toward the end, pointing at the bone blade in my hand, her face a little pale.

I weighed the weapon in my hand and laughed. "What are you afraid of? Am I going to end up cutting you with it? Go get ready to drive. In a moment, when I open the roadblock, you get inside as fast as you can. The gunfire and explosions just now are likely to attract some things, so we’d better hurry."

"Alright! I’ll go right away!"

Bone blade in hand, I entered the guardhouse. After a quick survey, I confirmed there were no living people inside—nor any mutant corpses.

Most likely, the corpse I just killed had devoured them. This was an important detail to keep in mind: not only do corpses evolve by consuming each other, but they can also develop strange mutations.

Still, no matter how bizarre, it was within the realm of control—not like those fourth-tier mutants, who were on a whole other level, leaders of their kind.

"Host has killed [Mutant Corpse]. Classified as [Tier Three Corpse] based on its strength. Calculating gene points: +100 for difficulty, multiplied by moonlight enhancement, for a total of 200 points."

Not bad—this thing was worth a hundred points. So killing corpses during a moonlit night yields a bonus? Double points time, so to speak?

I recalled the corpses we’d hit on the way here and checked my available gene points on the system.

"Remaining gene points: 999."

999? That’s precision. Damn!

We’d knocked aside quite a few corpses but hadn’t killed many. On reflection, it made sense—it's hard to kill a corpse by ramming it with a vehicle unless you hit the head. Knock them down and they just get up again.

Given what happened with the mutant, didn’t that mean a bunch of corpses in ZM City could have mutated from eating each other?

If that’s the case, ZM City really is a den of dragons and tigers—easy to get in, but getting out would be another matter entirely.

Pushing aside these tangled thoughts, I searched the guardhouse for the switch that controlled the roadblock.

"Hey! There’s still power. Looks like the arsenal’s electricity hasn’t completely shut down. We can even recharge the armored vehicle. Otherwise, the vehicle’s system won’t function." I flipped the breaker, and the room chimed with the sound of electricity returning.

I activated the roadblock switch, and the barrier outside began to retract slowly.

Once Huo Bing was inside, I had her guard the guardhouse, then returned to bring the other vehicle in.

"Close the roadblock—if any corpses come from behind, it’ll hold them off. If they get through, we’ll be trapped inside, and getting out would be tough."

I sent a message to Huo Bing from the car, then drove ahead at the front of the convoy.

It took about fifteen more minutes to drive from the perimeter to the arsenal itself. The distance between the arsenal and the perimeter was substantial, meant to give the inner garrison time to react in case of war.

"This place… feels strange."

Huo Bing and I parked our vehicles at the arsenal entrance. Before us stood a massive hydraulic door, no less imposing than the blast door at the isolated community’s shelter.

Forcing our way in was almost impossible; this was the only entrance and exit.

The arsenal was built into a hollowed-out low mountain, leaving only a single gate for access.

Huo Bing, Old Four, and I wandered the empty plaza before the gate, looking around. Not a sound—eerily quiet.

Judging by the uniformed corpse in the guardhouse, there should have been personnel stationed here. Otherwise, why would the perimeter be manned?

I walked up to the camera above the gate, which was still functioning, tracking my movements as I approached.

Thermal imaging—following my every move.

I waved at the camera and waited two minutes, but nothing happened.

"Brother Cao, maybe we should leave. I feel uneasy staying here," Huo Bing stuck close at my side. The fear of this desolate arsenal was plainly written in her eyes.

I sneered, "Leave? And go where? The armored vehicle is practically out of commission; it can barely move. If we can’t get in, this trip was for nothing. And going back is impossible. You think the two of us could walk back to the settlement?"

"But at least the camera’s still working, so there’s power inside. Whether anyone’s alive is another question. We’ll need to find another way in—the main entrance is out. There must be ventilation ducts or a drainage system." I glanced at the young woman, who nodded resolutely.

At this point, she had no choice but to stick with me, come what may.

As the former leader of the Swordfish Special Forces, my underwater skills were as reliable as doing push-ups in bed—nothing to scoff at.

"Can you swim?" I asked, not turning my head as we walked.

"Yes."

"Never mind. The drainage system is too risky—who knows what might be lurking underwater. Let’s check the ventilation ducts first."

Having been stationed here before, I was familiar with the layout. Last time I was here, I made sure to scout out all the exits and entrances, including the ventilation system.

No matter how secure a depot or underground shelter is, it must have external ventilation—otherwise, everyone inside would suffocate.

I led Huo Bing and Old Four up the mountainside behind the arsenal, where the concealed ventilation outlet was located.

"So, fate isn’t on our side. Looks like we’re forced to go underwater," I muttered, shaking my head at the nearly sealed ventilation duct. The passage was filled with rubble, and beneath that, a layer of concrete.

Clearly, something had happened here—why else seal the vents so well? Did the people inside not fear suffocation? Or perhaps the garrison was small enough that the available oxygen would last a long time.

"Old Four, can you dive? If you can, raise your left paw. If not, just ignore me." I glanced at the dog lying next to me, perplexed as to what to do with him.

It was a casual question—I didn’t really expect Old Four to swim underwater.

"Woof, woof..." Old Four gave two muffled barks, then raised his left paw and patted the mountainside, as if to say, "Dive? I’m more than up to the challenge!"