(I really need to move out of here.)
The apartment building was too old and weak. From time to time, Aron could feel it trembling, as if it might collapse at any moment.
To make things worse, the only food left in his room was bread and water, barely enough to last a single day.
He usually ate outside since it was cheaper than buying gas and cooking, given his financial situation.
But staring at the bread now, he had no appetite. Even so, his stomach growled with hunger.
Forcing himself, he ate, washing it down with water. He needed all the strength he could get. This building looked like it could fall at any time.
(It would be laughable if, in an apocalypse, I died from a building collapse instead of zombies.
I can't die now. I still have too many unfinished scores to settle.)
Aron took a deep breath and peered through the peephole. The three zombies that had been outside before drawn by the commotion had multiplied into five, lingering around his door.
The ones closest kept slamming against it.
He didn't dare open it. Aron wasn't cocky enough to think he could take them on. The last time he'd managed to risk it, had only been due to how desperate he was and the instinct to survive, that made him act so recklessly
He double-checked the lock, ensuring the door was secure, before pulling out his phone and scrolling through the internet for updates on the situation elsewhere.
It was severe to say the least.
People online were posting observations: the zombies had stiff joints and moved slowly, their vision was poor, and they mainly followed sound. Their weak point was their heads. However, they possessed inexhaustible stamina, immense strength, and sharp hearing. Fire and light seemed to repel them.
Anyone bitten or scratched would be infected, though in most cases, victims were devoured before even having a chance to turn.
The government had dispatched soldiers to contain the outbreak. At first, the zombies were crushed under the barrage of steel. Just as hope returned, however, reports spread of soldiers themselves turning into zombies.
What intrigued Aron most was a particular discovery: killing a zombie, even without receiving a "special ability", still granted experience. One's status could be revealed, and even without unique powers, it was possible to level up and strengthen the body enough to fight back.
Boom!
An explosion shook the building. The vibration was so strong the walls cracked, paint peeling and falling. It looked as if the whole place might collapse.
Aron's heart leapt into his throat until, after a while, the shaking finally stopped.
(I really need to get the hell out of here.)
The sense of urgency in his heart reached an all-time high.
Even if this building had been strong, it wasn't suitable for survival in an apocalypse. Besides, he had no food left.
This was the right time to leave. The zombies might be slow and clumsy now, but who could guarantee they'd stay that way once they grew stronger? From what he had observed, they were evolving at an alarming pace.
If his guess was right, everyone, human or zombie, started at Level 0. The first zombie he had killed had only managed to take down its wife, which should have kept it at Level 0. Yet, with just that kill, it had leveled up.
When Aron killed that zombie, even though it being a level higher he had only gained 50 exp from it, while the standard for killing one of the same level was a measly 20 exp. Based on his status, he would need to kill five zombies of the same rank just to reach Level 1. The thought really chilled him to the bones.
The more he thought about it, the more hope drained from him. The apocalypse wasn't ending anytime soon.
If he wanted to live, he had to act now. He needed a safe base before the situation grew even grimmer.
Peeking through the peephole again, Aron saw that the zombies crowding his door had shifted toward the source of the explosion.
This was his chance.
He had already formed a plan. He would kill the zombies in the building to raise his level before setting out. That way, his chances of survival would increase.
With the immunity ability he had gained from the earlier zombie, Aron had confidence.
The ability made him immune to infection, which scaled his success rate much higher.
He'd already begun to understand how his abilities worked. The moment he'd made physical contact with the zombie, a notification had immediately appeared, letting him claim an ability.
His theory wasn't fully confirmed yet, but he felt he wasn't far off.
Layering several shirts and jackets over his body, Aron ignored the sweat. It was the closest thing he had to armor.
Even if he was immune to infection, prevention was still better than cure.
Gripping his bent kitchen knife, the only sharp weapon he had,
It wasn't much. But it was all he had.
steading his breathing
Aron was ready to set out
--
'-')