Chapter Forty-Nine: Declaring the Mission a Failure

Strictly speaking, it shouldn't even be called a memory. It was more like glimpsing a scene from the future.

In that vision, it was right here—probably not long from now—that Gu Sha and Major Wu, accompanied by a few soldiers, set out for the laboratory to retrieve some documents. There, they would encounter a swarm of carrion beasts, suffering heavy casualties, and ultimately only Gu Sha and Major Wu would manage to flee back to this underground shelter.

The most exasperating part was that the documents they risked their lives to obtain were not, as Academician Wang claimed, a groundbreaking scientific discovery to benefit humanity. Instead, it was out of Wang’s personal ambition—data from a research project he once hoped would earn him the Nobeda Prize, utterly useless in the apocalypse. He had tricked Major Wu into fetching the data, simply because he had nearly completed the research before the world fell apart, and couldn’t let it go.

The group erupted into a fierce argument in the basement, but the ordeal did not end there. Soon, a horde of zombies would surround them. The shelter could not hold for long; several extraordinarily powerful zombies would break through its defenses. Immediately after, they would be beset by dense swarms of carrion beasts and zombies.

The final outcome: except for Gu Sha, who barely fought his way out, everyone else would perish here. Even Gu Sha would be wounded by a sudden attack from a carrion beast queen during his escape.

...

“Is this foresight?” Gu Sha frowned slightly.

He wasn’t particularly surprised by the emergence of a precognitive ability. After twenty years in the apocalypse in his previous life, he understood a thing or two about espers. Their powers were not necessarily fixed; although each esper only possessed one core ability, sometimes, breakthroughs and upgrades would randomly unlock new facets.

For instance, there was a firearms esper Gu Sha once knew. At first, his only power was impossibly accurate marksmanship. Later, after two breakthroughs, he gained the ability to have unlimited ammunition—so long as he had enough corpse cores, he could generate bullets at will. Upon reaching the sixth tier, he developed bullet tracking, allowing bullets to pursue their targets relentlessly—even more outrageous than bullets bending mid-flight.

So, Gu Sha wasn’t unsettled by the acquisition of a new ability. With time-based powers, developing new skills was entirely normal. His initial power was to alter the flow of time; now, the second was precognition—a perfectly reasonable progression.

What did strike Gu Sha as odd, however, was how immersive this precognition felt. It was as though he had personally lived through it. That was why, at first, he thought he’d gained an additional memory.

This sensation was reminiscent of the twenty years of apocalyptic memories he had retained after his rebirth—just a difference in length, not in kind. The feeling left him vaguely uneasy, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. It was as if… it made him question the reality of those twenty years he had lived before.

He exhaled deeply, forcing these distractions aside to study his new ability.

From his earlier experiment, he had roughly worked out how it functioned. By channeling the energy from corpse cores through his genetic lock, a white line would appear on his wrist, signaling sufficient energy. Once the line appeared, he could activate his precognition at any time, glimpsing up to an hour into the future. As his power advanced, this window would grow longer.

“This is downright overpowered—almost like having infinite resurrections,” Gu Sha chuckled softly, retrieving corpse cores from his pack to refine them.

But even after exhausting his supply, it wasn’t enough to activate precognition once.

He did not dwell on this. For now, the imminent crisis demanded his attention.

After eating a few compressed biscuits, Gu Sha stepped out the door.

As he opened it, Major Wu and the others looked over. Just as he had foreseen, Major Wu rose and said, “Mr. Gu, we have a favor to ask of you.”

“What is it?” Gu Sha asked, feigning ignorance despite already knowing.

Major Wu explained, “Academician Wang just informed us that there is a crucial piece of research data in the laboratory—an achievement that could benefit all humanity. This research could cut crop maturation time to a fifth of what it is now. Mr. Gu, as you know, with the apocalypse upon us, humanity’s survival is growing ever more difficult. Resources will become scarce, so this research is vital. I would like to ask for your help in retrieving the data. Don’t worry, we’ll go in while you cover us from outside. Your speed ensures that, once we have the data, you can get us out safely while we hold the rear.”

Gu Sha looked at Major Wu with a hint of admiration for his lofty ideals.

Major Wu’s actions bordered on self-sacrifice, but he wasn’t a sentimental fool. He was the sort who would lay down his life for the greater good, not someone who expected others to risk themselves for his own sense of righteousness.

He simply hadn’t spelled things out: they would go in, cover Gu Sha’s retreat with their lives, and let him bring back the data.

But Gu Sha would never agree. Never mind that the “world-saving” research Wang promised was a lie—even if it weren’t, he wouldn’t do it.

Still, he was puzzled—why, in the future he foresaw, did he so decisively agree to go and even accompany them into the lab? “This doesn’t make sense—completely out of character for me,” Gu Sha mused, brow furrowing.

“This precognition isn’t a fixed future,” he quickly realized. “It’s a simulation, projecting a possible outcome based on current decisions and variables.”

Understanding this, Gu Sha shook his head and refused. “Major Wu, listen to me—give up on this. If you go, you’re sacrificing yourselves for nothing. It’s meaningless.”

“How can it be meaningless?” Academician Wang, standing beside Major Wu, protested passionately. “That’s my life’s work! It could save all of humanity—countless lives!”

Gu Sha glanced at Wang, a trace of mockery in his eyes. “I don’t doubt your results, nor your ability to save lives. But right now, you’re sending them to their deaths. I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know that they’ll die today, and you might not even retrieve the data. And just because you say it will benefit humanity doesn’t make it so.”

Wang bristled with anger. “You—”

Gu Sha waved him off. “Enough. I won’t go. Major Wu, I know you have convictions, but I hope you’ll put your life to good use—not waste it on a lost cause.”

Major Wu hurried to intercede before the argument could escalate. “Mr. Gu, if you won’t help, then stay here and protect Academician Wang. I’ll lead the team myself.”

Gu Sha fixed him with a steady gaze. “If this old man is lying, would you still go?”

Major Wu replied gravely, “Even if there’s a one-in-ten-thousand chance it’s real, I must go. It’s my duty and belief as a soldier of Longzhou.”

The other soldiers gathered behind Major Wu, including the one Gu Sha had beaten earlier—all unwavering in their resolve.

Gu Sha’s eyes narrowed as he turned to Wang, his voice cold. “Are you really willing to send them to their deaths for your personal ambition? Do you know that over a hundred fine soldiers have already died saving you?”

Wang’s face reddened in indignation. “Nonsense! How is this about my ambition?”

Gu Sha’s glare was fierce as he declared, “I was assigned an official mission to rescue you. Now, I’m prepared to declare that mission a failure.”

(End of Chapter)