Mr. Ji had been waiting since morning. When he saw Qin Zhao arrive, he immediately shook hands with him warmly: "That's great! I've been waiting for you to come. If you hadn't come, my old bones wouldn't have been able to take it."

Mr. Ji is in his fifties. Before the apocalypse, he was in charge of arranging the work of high-level mutated zombies with superpowers.

The virus spreads through blood, so injecting inhibitors into highly mutated, super-powered zombies carries certain risks.

Advanced mutated zombies with superpowers are unable to perform injections due to the limitations of their bodily functions caused by the virus. They can only be injected by zombie kings like Mr. Ji or by living people.

Although there were medical staff willing to stay here long-term, Mr. Ji refused for safety reasons. Despite his advanced age, he forced himself to learn injection skills and is extremely busy every day.

Qin Zhao had been injecting inhibitors into the advanced mutated zombies along the way, so he could start working directly without any training.

But when he saw the documents on the computer that recorded the injection times of hundreds of advanced mutated zombies with superpowers, he immediately felt overwhelmed.

I suddenly felt an urge to run away.

Looking at him, Mr. Ji smiled and comforted him, "Little Qin, it's not that difficult. You know, before the apocalypse, when medical staff were busy, they could give injections to this many people a day. On average, you'll only give a few dozen a day at most. It's nothing for a young person like you."

Qin Zhao was forced to accept the compliment, and after looking at Mr. Ji's full head of white hair, he gritted his teeth and agreed.

He thought that was all there was to the job, but Mr. Ji pulled up another document: "These are the work arrangements for the advanced infected, in addition to the advanced mutated zombies with superpowers, there are also the work arrangements for us old guys. Our job is mainly to guard the zombie city and to patrol the capital city for security."

These things are easy to say, but difficult to actually arrange.

The zombie city guards tens of millions of zombies, and the high-level infected are like prison guards, while Mr. Ji and his zombie kings are like prison wardens.

But that's only a formality; actual implementation and arrangements are very difficult.

Qin Zhao flipped through the work schedule and immediately felt overwhelmed. With this workload, he was afraid he wouldn't even have a vacation. He then mentally cursed Han Junche.

But when he saw Chi Xia receiving one phone call after another, and saw Mr. Ji's expectant eyes, he could only grit his teeth and nod in the end: "Okay!"

Mr. Ji smiled sincerely: "Don't worry, I'll stay here with you for a week. After that, it'll all be up to you."

After discussing these matters, Mr. Ji led Qin Zhao on a tour of the office building.

Besides Qin Zhao, there are more than a dozen high-level infected people working here. Some are responsible for the scheduling and management of inhibitors, while others are responsible for handling daily chores in the virus-infected area. They are all selected from those who are relatively healthy and intact, and they are all very busy.

After the visit, Mr. Ji said to Qin Zhao earnestly, "Little Qin, from now on, all of us infected people will be under your command. When our territory expands, all the infected people in the entire empire will be under your jurisdiction. You must shoulder this responsibility!"

What else could Qin Zhao say? He could only silently feel the non-existent burden on his shoulders and nod: "Don't worry, Mr. Ji, I will do my best."

At this moment, Chi Xia walked over and looked at Qin Zhao, asking, "How's it going? How's the familiarity going?"

Qin Zhao snorted and gritted his teeth, saying, "I hate him!"