Zhang Qi stood frozen in front of the mirror for what felt like forever, legs going numb, until he finally had to accept it. Normally, he'd slap himself silly to see if he was dreaming. But now he couldn't even feel pain. He could only stare blankly at his own ashen reflection.
"So I'm Undead? Sounds fancy, but isn't that just a high-class zombie?!" He bared his teeth at his reflection. "But why can I still think? Aren't zombies supposed to be mindless, shambling corpses? The ones on TV stagger around, bite anything that moves. But I can talk, move my body… This is nothing like the zombies from Resident Evil I've seen!"
He got more worked up, pacing back and forth in the small bathroom, his worn-out slippers slapping against the floor. "And this game interface? It just pops up like magic? In my twenty years, this is the first time I've seen something this messed up! I gotta figure myself out, and this damn zombie system. Otherwise, I'll be too freaked out to sleep… Oh, right. Guess I don't sleep anymore."
He muttered darkly to himself. Right now, his only lifeline was this self-deprecating humor. Otherwise, this whole situation would drive him insane. Yesterday, he was worried about beating a video game. Today, he was a walking, talking corpse. Who could handle that?
After a thorough, head-to-toe inspection, he confirmed he really did seem… dead. First, no heartbeat. His chest was silent. He pressed his ear against the wall, listened hard—nothing. Pain was completely gone. He pinched himself several times, the skin turning purple, but he felt nothing.
"Messed up. Totally messed up!" he kept muttering as he checked. "Touch and pressure sensation are still there, but dull. Like wearing thick gloves. Everything feels distant."
To verify this strangeness, he got stubborn. First, he picked up the toothbrush from the sink, weighing it in his hand. "Can feel I'm holding it, but no temperature. The plastic handle isn't cold or warm. Feels like a stick of wood." To be sure, he turned on the faucet, stuck his fingers into the rushing water, swishing them around, even wetting his sleeve.
"Sure enough. Can feel the water moving, but can't tell if it's hot or cold. Feels lukewarm. So weird." He shook the water off his hand, looking miserable. "In winter, this would freeze my hand solid. But now, no feeling at all."
Thankfully, the system came with detailed explanations, or he'd have lost his mind. Staring at the icon next to a stat for a moment brought up a pop-up, like a smartphone, pages flipping automatically:
[Physical Status]
[The Undead body naturally decays over time, like an apple left out for three months, rotting slowly. When this value decreases, bodily functions will gradually deteriorate. May eventually become unable to walk, collapsing like a sack of trash. Consuming fresh flesh restores Physical Status. The fresher the meat, the better the effect. Best served live and warm.]
Currently at 98%, most bodily functions were normal. At least he could walk, talk, jump around—no different from a regular person. But how bad would the deterioration get, and how fast? He had no clue. He just hoped it wouldn't be too quick, or he'd have to complete that disgusting quest sooner than he'd like.
[Energy Level]
[Energy is consumed by daily activities—walking, talking, all drain power, like a phone running too many background apps. Can also be used to heal wounds. Consumption depends on severity—a scraped knee versus a broken leg are different. When Energy is depleted, the Undead body's decay accelerates. Will become immobile, like a toy without batteries.]
Based on that god-awful quest he received, Zhang Qi understood eating flesh could also restore Energy. But the thought turned his stomach. He'd rather chew on tree bark.
"At least I don't need two different things to maintain my body. Silver lining, I guess." He tried to comfort himself. "But the quest requires me to eat human flesh to complete it. Isn't that forcing me to become a cannibal? Maybe it's not the only way to restore Energy and Status, just a quest requirement? God, I hope so. I don't want to spend the rest of my life eating people."
"Don't know how long my sanity will last. Makes me nervous." He touched his head worriedly. "But as long as I'm still lucid, I'd rather catch a stray cat or dog than touch human flesh. The thought makes my skin crawl. Worst case, I'll go to a supermarket and find some expired hot dogs!"
Zhang Qi accepted the situation so quickly thanks to the system interface making it feel like an immersive game, plus the lack of pain dulling the reality. Otherwise, he'd have cracked. Most people would have a three-day meltdown over something like this.
"And an XP bar, levels, and quests. I know this drill." Zhang Qi rubbed his chin, pacing in the cramped bathroom. "But how am I seeing this interface? Do I have a chip in my brain? Am I possessed by alien tech? Too ridiculous. Do other zombies have this system? Are they all thinking like me? Am I the only special case? If the streets are filled with thinking zombies… the world's gonna get interesting."
Looking down at the sink, Zhang Qi suddenly noticed deep handprints pressed into the ceramic. In his shock earlier, he'd gripped the edge so hard he left perfect imprints in the hard material—five distinct fingers, even the whorls of his fingerprints. Before, he wouldn't dare squeeze an egg too hard. Now he had this kind of strength. Unbelievable.
"Holy mother of—" He gasped, yanking his hand back. "If I squeezed a person like that, I'd leave five bloody holes!"
He let out a long sigh, looking at his ashen face in the mirror, a whirl of emotions inside. The person in the mirror was both familiar and a stranger. It was still his face, but something was deeply off.
"This isn't a game. I have to remind myself constantly. Could really get me killed." He said seriously to his reflection. "But if I treat it like a game, the first thing to do is level up fast. Higher level means more skills, items, info—better survival chances. But judging by the first quest's requirements, it won't be easy. All messed-up tasks."
"Gotta check outside. Can't be a coward." He psyched himself up. "I'm a zombie with a system now. Can't embarrass the transmigrators… err, the mutants, right?"
Before leaving the bathroom, Zhang Qi rummaged through the mess, found some bandages, and wrapped his hands and the bite marks on his neck tightly, like a mummy. He wasn't the cure, but the virus clearly affected him differently—he knew that much. To an outsider, he'd look like an escaped mental patient.
One thing was clear: the person who bit him had completely lost their mind, biting like a rabid dog. Steeling himself, Zhang Qi punched the mirror. It shattered with a crash, fragments spraying everywhere. He crouched, sifting through the pieces, finally selecting a large, sharp shard. He tucked it inside his waistband, carefully covering it with his shirttail.
"Not many weapon options. Pathetic." He complained. "A college dorm doesn't have a proper knife. The kitchen knives were confiscated by the RA, said they were a fire hazard if we cooked. Great. Now I can't even find something to defend myself. Gotta make do."
Back in the room, Zhang Qi searched around, finally finding a wooden stick that had fallen from the bunk bed. It was long with a rounded end. It felt awkward, clumsy to swing, like wielding a staff.
"This thing's only good for swatting mosquitoes." He weighed it disdainfully. "Against zombies? Probably wouldn't even scratch them."
So he gripped it with all his might at both ends, brought his knee up, and slammed it down on the middle. A sharp crack—the stick snapped, the break forming a sharp, pointed end. Now it looked like a stake from a Western vampire movie. Though he wasn't facing vampires, but something even weirder.
"Can't rely on brute force alone. Gotta use my head." He muttered to himself. "Have to assume others have the same abilities, maybe even better. So I have to be smarter. Otherwise, I'm dead without knowing how. In game terms, I'm a fresh noob just out of the starter village. Gotta take it slow."
Zhang Qi didn't rush out. Instead, he walked to the curtain he hadn't opened in ages—he loved gaming in the dark for immersion. Taking a deep breath, he yanked the curtain open. Dust rained down. The view outside the apartment flooded in. He stared, unsure if he should be surprised.
"Just as I thought… The world really has changed… Humanity… will have to fight for survival…" He mumbled, his voice trembling slightly.
Several buildings billowed thick black smoke like chimneys. Many structures had even collapsed into rubble, steel and concrete exposed. Looking closer, most windows were shattered, glass shards littering the ground. Chaos everywhere, like a warzone. The streets were clogged with abandoned cars, some still smoldering.
"This isn't a normal attack." He frowned deeply. "It's like a meteor hit, or someone fired missiles at the city. Look at the destruction on those buildings… There's even a huge crater in the distance, deep and terrifying."
"What… what happened?" He pressed his forehead against the cold glass. "Did it happen while I was out? Or while I was gaming… No, I'd have heard explosions. I heard the zombie knocking clear as day. Either way, staying here won't give me answers. Won't complete the quest. Can't just wait to die."
Turning around, Zhang Qi walked to the door, his hand on the cold doorknob, the space where his heart should beat feeling hollow. He suddenly remembered yesterday at this time, he was shooting the breeze with his roommates, discussing what to eat for dinner. Now, even seeing tomorrow's sun was a question mark.
"Never thought I'd start surviving the apocalypse this way." He shook his head with a bitter smile. "But now I can only accept I'm a zombie. A zombie with a brain. In a novel, I'd definitely be the protagonist. Just don't know if I'll make it to the ending."
Without hesitation, he clicked the lock open and stepped out into the changed world, his footsteps heavy as lead. The hallway was dead silent, only the echo of his own steps, sounding unnervingly loud.