Survival code 416

Fan Zhen looked at his haggard face in the mirror, his eyes filled with exhaustion from excessive overtime. He shouted fiercely: "Oh, toiling worker, the soul of labor, toiling is the pinnacle of humanity! Onward, with spirit and vigor!" He poured himself a bowl of hearty chicken soup, and a new day began. While brushing his teeth, Fan Zhen picked up his phone and opened the trending page on Zhihu. Top Trending Topic: A new type of virus discovered in Africa, suspected to be a variant of the flu. How should we respond? ... Fan Zhen didn't pay much attention to it and continued scrolling down. The flu had been spreading for a week now, but the number of infected individuals was not significant. Besides, the flu outbreak occurred almost every year, claiming hundreds of thousands of lives worldwide. This time, it seemed like just a stronger variant that hadn't reached China yet. No need to worry too much, he thought. He took a few sips from his water bottle, grabbed his bag, and headed out. As the elevator door opened with a ding, Fan Zhen was about to step in when his eyes widened in an instant: Inside the elevator, there was a pool of blood mixed with vomit. The filth was so extensive that it even splattered onto the elevator walls. It appeared to have been there since last night, and the splatters had already coagulated. Disgusting. For a moment, he felt nauseous himself, but he quickly composed himself. It must have been left by some drunkard or someone who had overindulged in social gatherings. If you can't handle your liquor, then don't drink. If you end up vomiting blood and causing trouble for your neighbors, it's your own fault. Fan Zhen muttered under his breath as he walked towards the stairs. He also called the property management, but no one answered. Feeling annoyed on his way to the subway station, Fan Zhen's mood was already sour. It was such an unfortunate start to the day. His streak of bad luck wasn't over yet. Lost in thought, he unconsciously walked against the flow of pedestrians on the sidewalk and was quickly stopped by a traffic police officer. As the traffic officer approached him, Fan Zhen was on the verge of exploding. Damn manager, damn drunkards, damn... well, he didn't have the guts to curse at a public servant, so he could only comply and pay the fine obediently. When he got back on his bike, he overheard the auxiliary police officer and the uncle who had stopped him complaining, "What's going on today? The ambulance has passed by at least ten times already..." But Fan Zhen had no interest in paying attention to them. All he wanted now was to safely reach the subway station and face another long and boring day. Moreover, he was too exhausted. The two incidents not only failed to wake him up but also drained his already limited energy, making him drowsy. In a half-awake state, Fan Zhen finally boarded Line 7. He couldn't even remember what he was doing a second ago; he was simply relying on muscle memory. This is probably how those zombies in novels and movies are, he mused. By 6:30 am, the subway was already packed with people. Fan Zhen was squeezed between several burly men near the entrance, unable to move. However, the crowding wasn't the most terrifying aspect. Perhaps due to the scent emanating from the people around him, a girl next to him, wearing light makeup, couldn't help but frown continuously. The lack of ventilation in the train car allowed various unpleasant smells, such as body odor, breakfast, and low-quality cosmetics, to mix and ferment. They had to endure it until they got off. Luckily, Fan Zhen was grateful for his mask. As the train car rhythmically swayed, everyone on board began to doze off. Fan Zhen quickly fell into a cycle of nodding off, waking up, falling asleep again, and waking up once more. He wasn't worried about missing his stop because at the transfer station, a large number of people would get off, and the pressure around him would suddenly dissipate, and he would surely feel it. Only two more stops until the transfer. ... A distant scream abruptly pulled Fan Zhen back to reality from his half-asleep state. He wiped away some drool. Where was he? Oh, the next stop was Mingchuan Road. Fan Zhen blinked hard, realizing it was time to get off. He didn't want to pay any attention to that scream; it was probably just a girl who spilled her milk tea or someone accidentally bumped into another person when the train accelerated. He was too tired to care about such things. But soon, a second scream echoed from the front car. It was followed by curses and shouts. Now Fan Zhen had a tiny bit of interest. What's happening? He started peering towards the front car, but the crowd blocked his view, and he quickly gave up. However, the commotion grew louder, indicating that a fight had broken out in the car ahead. Curses, cries of pain, and the thud of bodies colliding filled the air. People around him strained their necks, trying to figure out what was going on. Even some seated passengers stood up. Fan Zhen felt a slight unease, knowing that whatever was happening couldn't be good. He just wanted to get off the train quickly. In case he got caught up in something and ended up at the police station, he could already see his boss's contorted face... Soon, a train attendant pushed through the crowd from the rear cabin. People bombarded him with questions, but the attendant looked just as bewildered, saying he would investigate the situation ahead. Everyone watched him leave, filled with unease. A few minutes later, the voice of the train conductor echoed through the train's speaker system and reached everyone's ears. "What are you doing? Stop them, stop them!" The conductor's voice faded away, followed by a series of gnawing and biting sounds that sent shivers down one's spine. In what seemed like an instant, the crowd around me started screaming and frantically pushing towards the back of the carriage. At the same time, people from the front carriage began rushing in as well. Fan Zhen looked at the contorted faces filled with terror, as if there were monsters chasing them from the front carriage. Unfortunately, all the carriages were almost completely packed with rush hour commuters, making it difficult to even move slightly, let alone go to another carriage. Just one minute later, he didn't need to make an effort to figure out what was happening up front. Suddenly, a man in a red hoodie appeared out of nowhere and pounced on a boy wearing headphones and listening to music. Without warning, he sunk his teeth into the boy's neck, causing blood to spray from his mouth. The boy struggled in pain, but couldn't break free and eventually collapsed. The hoodie-wearing man quickly found his next target—a young girl whose screams lasted only a few seconds. A burly man standing next to Fan Zhen immediately lunged at the hoodie-wearing man and subdued him. The man bared his teeth ferociously at the burly man, but couldn't move an inch. Brilliant! But Fan Zhen didn't have the chance to applaud the burly man as he saw, to his horror, that the boy who had fallen earlier was now standing unsteadily behind the burly man. His eyes were bloodshot, and his gums were exposed. The boy sank his teeth into the burly man's shoulder. The burly man cried out in pain, inadvertently releasing his grip. The hoodie-wearing man broke free and immediately joined forces with the boy to launch an attack on the burly man, who quickly became a bloody mess. "Murder!" "Help!" ... The scene descended into utter chaos, with screams, cries, and pleas for help filling the air. Due to fear, Fan Zhen was pressed against the door, unable to move. However, another part of his brain became extremely alert. Infectious, 1 becomes 2. He calculated the time it took for the burly man to fall. "1, 2, 3, 4..." 14 seconds. Fan Zhen estimated the number of people in the carriage. At most, it would take 4 minutes for everyone here to be infected. At the same time, he startled himself. What time was it? Why was he still calculating this kind of thing? Soon, he realized his mistake. Advanced life is not merely a statistical figure; they have their own agency. The burly man, now standing again, turned his head towards Fan Zhen, locking eyes with him, his bloodshot gaze meeting Fan Zhen's. It's over. Two words flashed through Fan Zhen's mind. Fan Zhen watched in horror as the burly man suddenly exerted force, crashing through the man blocking their path like a tank and lunging toward him. Dodge! His brain urged him, but his feet remained frozen, as if his legs had forgotten how to flee.