Chapter 267: Just a Few Words, Dear Readers—End of Month, Please Vote for Monthly Tickets!

"Don't worry about bulletproof materials—I still have some finished products I rushed out. You're planning to attack the Blue Dragon Battalion, so be extra careful!"

Fu Wei rarely uttered a word of concern, but now he pulled a plastic bag from his chest and said, "These are the thalami I collected over the past few days. The failure rate is high—I hope they're enough."

Thalami must be harvested alive; with current equipment, achieving 100% success is nearly impossible—basically, only one thalamus can be extracted from every two zombies.

Zhang Su took them, inspected them—seven in total, more than enough! After witnessing how the thalami healed Yang Wenjie's gunshot wound, he had already classified them as top-priority war supplies. He carried one on his person and kept two with Zhong Xiaoshan.

Just worrying about distribution, and now Fu Wei suddenly produces even more—pure luck like catching hailstones in summer!

"This stuff works great, Dr. Fu—the more, the better!"

Zhang Su happily tucked the thalami into his pocket, giving it a gentle pat, just like when he was a kid heading out with pocket money to buy snacks.

"Cough. Mr. Zhang, I need to speak with you alone."

Fu Wei suddenly changed expression, rolling his wheelchair a few meters aside.

"You two chat—I'll go smoke a cigarette."

Duan Wu was quick to understand—he knew some secrets weren't meant to be heard—and walked straight outside the courtyard to wait.

"What's wrong?"

Zhang Su had rarely seen Fu Wei treat a conversation with such caution. Previously, he'd always spoken openly, saying whatever came to mind, never caring what others thought.

"The thalami's effects are powerful, but not miraculous—and they come with side effects. Be careful."

Fu Wei frowned slightly.

"Oh?" Zhang Su's expression hardened: "Tell me quickly!"

"After using thalami to treat injuries more than three times, the fourth time yields almost no effect. Moreover, look here..."

As he spoke, Fu Wei rolled up his sleeve to reveal a scar on his arm: "This was from a cut I made three days ago—it still hasn't fully healed!"

"So... it doesn't just create strong drug resistance—it also lowers your body's natural cell-repair capacity?" Zhang Su immediately grasped Fu Wei's meaning.

This was indeed worth keeping quiet about. If people just learned you had a miracle healing drug, then immediately found out it had massive side effects, everyone would carry a burden in their hearts.

Fu Wei nodded: "Exactly, Mr. Zhang is sharp!"

Zhang Su smiled awkwardly—he couldn't remember the last time someone had called him smart—and asked, "You've only tested on minor wounds. Even then, does it still fail?"

"Yes. Think of it like a device that can only be powered on three times—whether you turn it on for one second at 1% load or for an hour at 100% load, the fourth time it simply won't start."

Fu Wei offered this vivid analogy.

"Hmm... could it be that the internal cooldown period hasn't passed?"

Zhang Su offered his own theory.

Fu Wei paused, thinking: "That's an interesting idea, Mr. Zhang. But even if there is a cooldown, the decline in your body's self-repair ability is already real—it's a genetic-level change, hard to reverse."

The implication was clear: regardless of whether the thalami could work again, he had already become weaker in some fundamental way.

"So there's no such thing as a free lunch. The thalami doesn't feel like healing—it feels more like draining your body's latent potential for self-repair. Still, three life-saving chances? What more can you ask? So, Dr. Fu, constantly using your own body as a test subject isn't sustainable!"

Zhang Su looked at Fu Wei with concern. His behavior was no different from Shen Nong tasting hundreds of herbs—but if he kept this up, he'd eventually collapse. One day, Duan Wu might come running over to tell him Fu Wei was already dead...

But Fu Wei calmly pulled down his sleeve and smiled: "Then, Mr. Zhang, could you provide me with some test subjects?"

"People? No, people won't do..." Zhang Su's lip twitched, then he reconsidered: "What about livestock? Pigs, sheep, chickens, ducks—all fine. One pig and one sheep per month, two chickens and two ducks—wait, no, one each? Total?"

"Not enough for major breakthroughs, but certainly enough for good progress. Thank you, Mr. Zhang!"

Fu Wei was delighted with the outcome and added: "Today, everyone has important tasks. I won't disturb you. I've already processed a batch of bulletproof materials—they'll come in handy! Oh, Mr. Zhang, please bring back 003. Thank you."

As he spoke, Fu Wei wheeled himself toward the courtyard gate, swift and decisive. "Brother Su, look at this!"

As Zhang Su stepped out of the courtyard, Liu Tianji rushed over, shouldering an RPG with excitement.

"Damn it!"

Zhang Su flinched instinctively, barely avoiding it.

"No worries, no worries—it's empty, no grenade loaded, haha!"

Liu Tianji handed Zhang Su the pitch-black rocket launcher.

"Fucking hell, I thought you were trying to assassinate me! No grenade? Or no grenade at all?"

Zhang Su hefted the heavy weapon—he didn't know the exact model, but it weighed about ten kilos. No need to guess—it was clearly from the military depot.

Liu Tianji pointed to the vehicle the Blue Dragon Battalion had driven in: "No grenade inside, but there's one round in there. Old Guo said it's a fragmentation round—I don't know what that means."

"Alright, keep it. Take it tonight. Besides this, what other weapons do we have?"

Zhang Su returned the rocket launcher to Liu Tianji.

"Besides the broken guns, we've got twenty-five left: eighteen assault rifles, seven submachine guns. No extra ammo—everything's packed in spare magazines. The Blue Dragon Battalion was well-prepared!"

"Heh, awesome! Tonight, we'll use their own weapons against them!"

Zhang Su was thrilled. In the apocalypse, food and weapons were the most coveted things. Suddenly expanding their arsenal like this felt incredible.

"Let me out. Let me out. Let me out. Let me out..."

Zhang Su was about to inspect the weapons seized from the Blue Dragon Battalion when he suddenly heard Su Xiaoya's muffled cries—different rhythms, echoing through glass and walls. Not loud, barely audible. Others probably couldn't hear a thing.

"Finish packing, then go rest."

With that, he walked toward the guesthouse where Su Xiaoya was imprisoned. He'd completely forgotten about the little spy after her all-night ruckus.

Finding the key and opening the door, Zhang Su saw Su Xiaoya sitting by the window, wrapped in a blanket, eyes swollen and red.

Her hands and feet were bound, yet somehow she'd managed to cover herself with a blanket—quite the troublemaker. Too bad the room was empty; there wasn't even a corner to rub the zip ties against.

"Still alive? Still got energy to squirm?"

Su Xiaoya sniffled, voice trembling: "Let me out. I want to go home. I want to go back to Kuanzhuang."

"Hmph..." Zhang Su found it amusing. He didn't even look at her, lit a cigarette, and said, "Don't even think about going back. We've got things to do. We don't have time for you. Be grateful we let you stay here at all!"

"I don't need you to care for me. I can get back on my own!"

Su Xiaoya spoke stubbornly, trying to swing her fist—but her arms were bound together. She tugged, nearly toppled over, then added: "Even if I die on the road, I don't need your help!"

"Who cares if you get back? You're really something, huh?"

Zhang Su glanced sideways at Su Xiaoya. He hadn't properly looked at her since she was cleaned up. Now he studied her—she looked vaguely familiar. A strange, odd feeling.

"What do you mean, 'huh'?"

Su Xiaoya sniffled, tears welling.

"Nobody cares if you live or die. Maybe everyone in Kuanzhuang already thinks you're dead," Zhang Su shrugged.

Su Xiaoya's eyes widened in fury: "Impossible!"

"Impossible? You were sent on such a dangerous mission with no backup—what's impossible about that? I'm being merciful. Otherwise, you'd have been dead eight hundred times over! Stay put. Someone will bring you food. We'll deal with you after we're done."

Zhang Su turned and left the room, ignoring Su Xiaoya's cries. There was no way she'd walk out easily. Anyone who sent a spy to stir up trouble wouldn't be let off lightly—unless Kuanzhuang truly didn't care about her life. Otherwise, they'd have to pay a massive ransom.

(End of Chapter)