Three days later, Chen Liu felled a four-star zombie with his axe, collapsing in a heap of blood and grime. Deep gashes marred his face and arms. He was exhausted. Four-star zombies, specializing in physical evolution, moved like lightning, their withered arms like iron clamps. Their skulls were tough as steel; a single axe swing often lodged in place. Facing one felt like his first doomsday encounter with a one-star zombie. Each fight was a dance with death.
Two days ago, Chen Liu had reached four-star Awakened status, his source energy at 72 strands, far from the 128 needed for five-star. I’m improving, but they’re evolving faster. Three-star zombies were manageable, but five-star ones had emerged, making solo hunting perilous. His recent four-star advancement had doubled his physical strength, rivaling two grown men. His speed, though not sub-10-second sprint level, was limited only by technique, not ability. Online axe skills gave him an edge against four-star zombies, but a five-star would force him to flee. This world’s relentless, he thought, his expression hardened by the constant pressure.
“I’m heading to the cafeteria,” he decided. Solo survival was no longer viable; the apocalypse demanded allies. He packed light: his short axe, medicines, bandages, binoculars, underwear, and a cherished photo of him with his parents. That was all he had left. Food and water were gone. The mutant dog’s meat and bones he had boiled into soup was totally gone. The cafeteria had bedding in reserve. Without lingering, he left the villa.
The cafeteria, a three-story building by the lake, sported emerald-green glazed tiles peeking through tall trees, its traditional style oddly serene. On the stone path, he sprinted, dishevelled, his luck souring. After killing a four-star zombie and grabbing its crystal, another charged him. He bolted, only to run into a three-star zombie around a corner. Damn it! Two zombies and a trail of corpses pursued him, howling.
At the cafeteria’s first floor, wooden boards reinforced the windows, a makeshift guard post by the door. A guard spotted Chen Liu. “Captain, someone’s coming! Two zombies are chasing him!” he reported via walkie-talkie. Li Dong, the “Bronze-Skin Iron-Bones” Awakened and former security head, now led the survivors. Tall, nearly 1.9 meters, he wielded a crowbar—flat at one end, hooked at the other, dubbed the “Sword of Physics” for its versatility, inspired by Half-Life’s Gordon Freeman.
As Chen Liu reached the sealed door, he shouted, “Anyone there? Open it!” The guard moved, but Li Dong stopped him. “Wait,” he said, his tone calm. “He thought he could go it alone. Let’s see what he’s got.” Li Dong recognized Chen Liu, the former billionaire, from resident profiles. The apocalypse had flipped their roles—Li Dong, now an ability user, relished the shift. The guard hesitated but obeyed, Li Dong’s authority was clear among the ex-security core.
“Damn it,” Chen Liu muttered, turning to face the zombies alone. They charged from both sides, eyes bloodthirsty, howls eerie. He rushed the three-star, ducked low, and swung his axe, severing its leg. Thud—it fell, struggling to rise. Weaker bones than a four-star, he thought, his face focused. The four-star lunged, giving no respite. Chen Liu thrust his axe to keep it at bay, retreating to isolate it from the three-star. From the post, Li Dong smirked. “Interesting.”
The four-star pressed, agile and head-protecting, dodging clean hits. The three-star crawled, aiming for Chen Liu’s legs, their coordination tight. They’re working together, he thought, his face paling. The guard whispered, “Captain, he’s in trouble.” Li Dong nodded. “I’ve seen enough.” He stepped out to help, but the fight shifted suddenly…
Editor’s Note: Chen Liu finally decides to join for the sake of survival, but that’s not a warm welcome, Li Dong.
[^1]: In the video game series Half-Life, protagonist Gordon Freeman uses a crowbar as a versatile weapon, nicknamed the “Sword of Physics” by fans for its effectiveness.