Eastern China — Jiangxi — Nanchang — Jiangxi High School.
The five-story school building stood tall beneath the blazing afternoon sun, its white and red walls gleaming faintly. A sixth floor, accessible only through a locked stairway, led to the rooftop where few students ever dared to go. Jiangxi High was known for its strict teachers, large campus, and an even larger sports ground sprawled beside a quiet backyard, often overlooked by the staff.
It was lunchtime.
The corridors buzzed with noise. Students walked in groups, chattering and laughing, some eating on the move, others loitering in corners with snacks in hand. Yet, behind the building, in the secluded backyard, a different scene was unfolding.
A crowd had gathered.
At the center of it all, a boy was on his knees. His uniform was slightly torn at the shoulder, and his face was twisted in pain. He was a second-year student—Qian Yao.
Four students stood before him, forming a half-circle. The leader, a tall boy with dyed red hair and a wicked grin, cracked his knuckles before speaking.
"Qian Yao," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Didn't I tell you to bring me a naked photo of your sister?"
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
The red-haired boy was Long Hua, a name whispered with caution across the school. Known as the gangster of Jiangxi High, he ruled the halls with fists and fear. The three boys flanking him snickered.
"Boss, this guy's a loser," one of them spat.
Around them, the murmuring students began whispering amongst themselves.
"That bastard's getting beaten again."
"Yeah… how can a loser like him have such a hot sister?"
"Isn't his sister a businesswoman?"
"Yeah, she runs Qian Group, doesn't she?"
Qian Yao clenched his fists but said nothing. His head hung low, shame and pain mixing in his eyes. He tried to rise—legs trembling, breath shallow.
Before he could fully stand, Long Hua stepped forward and kicked him in the stomach.
The force of the blow sent Qian Yao flying backward. He hit the ground hard, groaned, and then went still.
A few gasps echoed from the crowd.
"Is he unconscious?" someone whispered.
A lone student turned and sprinted toward the main building to call for a teacher.
And then, the bell rang.
The sharp clang of the bell signaled the end of lunch break.
Students began dispersing as if nothing had happened, laughter trailing behind them as they returned to class. No one looked back. No one offered a hand.
Long Hua and his three lackeys turned as well, dusting their hands off as they strolled toward the main building, uncaring, victorious.
Qian Yao lay motionless in the dirt, alone.
A man came running through the backyard, his face pale with worry. It was Lio Hai, a math teacher known for his calm demeanor—but not today. He pushed past the lingering students and knelt beside the unconscious body.
"Qian Yao! Are you okay?" he called out, gently shaking him.
There was no response.
Without hesitation, Lio Hai scooped the boy into his arms and sprinted toward the school building. The crowd slowly dispersed behind him, their laughter and curiosity already shifting to the next piece of gossip.
Inside the dim school infirmary, Qian Yao lay motionless on the bed, a damp cloth on his forehead and his shirt folded up to reveal a purpling bruise on his stomach.
But while his body rested, his consciousness drifted elsewhere.
In his mind, Qian Yao floated in a vast, silent void. A soft blue light bathed his body. There was no sky, no ground—only emptiness, stretching endlessly in every direction.
He spun around, confused.
"Huh? Where am I? What is this place?"
His voice echoed endlessly, swallowed by the void.
Panic swelled in his chest.
"Am I... dead?"
He tried to move, but there was no gravity, no direction. Just floating. Just confusion.
Then, as if answering him, a green window blinked into existence before his eyes.
System Prompt: Host Detected. Starting Program... Initialization Complete.
Qian Yao stared at it, eyes wide.
"What is this? A dream?"
The screen flickered, then shifted.
System Prompt: Qian Yao has been successfully selected as our Host.
Before he could say another word, the screen vanished, swallowed by the void.
And then—his eyes snapped open.
He sat up with a jolt, gasping for air. Sweat clung to his forehead. The scent of disinfectant and the quiet hum of the ceiling fan told him he was in the school infirmary.
"That screen… was that a dream?" he muttered, looking around in disbelief.
His stomach still ached. The pain was real. Too real.
Suddenly, the same green window appeared again, right in front of him.
System Prompt: Host, the zombie apocalypse will start in 30 min.
He froze.
"What... what does that mean?" he whispered.
Still unsure if he was dreaming, he lifted his right hand and tried to touch the screen—but his fingers passed through it like it was made of mist.
He clutched his head in confusion.
"Am I still dreaming?"
His eyes drifted to the wall clock. The minute hand ticked slowly past 1:30 PM. There was still time left before school ended at three.
He let out a breath.
"Do I tell someone? No… no one would believe me. Not even I believe this."
He stood from the bed, wobbling slightly, and looked down at his own hand.
"They really hit me hard. My stomach still hurts…"
He walked to the door. As he stepped out, the glowing green screen behind him faded silently.
The hallway was quiet, and a warm summer light streamed in from the windows. He was on the third floor. Turning right, he slowly made his way down the corridor toward his classroom.
Moments later, he stood outside the door labeled:
Second-Year Class B
He hesitated for a second, then pushed the door open.
Laughter erupted.
The moment he stepped in, the classroom broke into whispers and stifled giggles. Some students openly chuckled, others just smirked.
His gaze swept past them and landed on the teacher at the blackboard.
It's science class, he noted silently.
Without reacting to the laughter, Qian Yao walked calmly to his desk in the far-left corner. He sat down, ignoring the stares.
From across the room, Long Hua looked at him with a twisted grin, but Qian Yao didn't return it. He just turned his head toward the front wall, eyes fixed on the clock above the board.
1:35 PM.
The teacher continued his lecture as if nothing had happened.
And Qian Yao sat silently, the words of the system echoing in his mind.
The apocalypse will start in 30 min.
Time slipped by, slow and heavy.
It was 1:40 PM.
Qian Yao sat quietly at his desk, eyes drifting to the window beside him. The sun was still out, casting gentle shadows on the sports field below.
Only twenty minutes left, he thought, fingers tapping faintly on the wooden desk. Let's see if this so-called apocalypse really starts... or if it's all just an illusion.
Five more minutes crawled past.
1:45 PM.
He turned his gaze outside once again.
Still nothing.
Nothing's happening. But now only fifteen minutes are left.
Suddenly, the voice of the science teacher snapped through the room.
"Hey, Qian Yao! Pay attention to the class! If you want to stare out the window, then get out!"
Startled, Qian Yao sat up straight and shifted his eyes to the front of the class. He clenched his jaw.
That bastard teacher, he muttered in his thoughts.
The teacher continued the lecture, completely unaware of the storm Qian Yao felt building inside.
Ten more minutes passed in silence.
1:55 PM.
Qian Yao glanced at the clock hanging above the whiteboard. His heart thudded faster now.
Only five minutes left.
Each tick of the second hand grew louder in his ears.
1:56 PM.
1:57 PM.
1:58 PM.
1:59 PM.
He stared at the clock, then turned back to the window.
Now only one minute left.
His heart was pounding so hard it echoed in his chest. A strange thrill crawled through him.
If the zombie apocalypse really starts... then maybe this boring life will finally change. Maybe I'll get a chance to become someone.
Then—tick.
2:00 PM.
A soft chime echoed in his ears as a glowing green screen materialized before his eyes.
System Prompt: Zombie Apocalypse starts now.
Qian Yao inhaled sharply. His gaze flicked to the window.
The school grounds looked the same. Students walked. The sun still shone. The wind gently swayed the trees.
Nothing happened.
He leaned back and let out a shaky breath.
Just as I thought. It was only an illusion.
From the other side of the classroom, Long Hua smirked and crumpled a piece of paper. He tossed it toward Qian Yao's head, but it missed and bounced off the window.
Qian Yao didn't even look at him.
Then—the classroom door creaked open.