Screams of panic, terror, and despair exploded from outside his window like sound waves crashing against him. Huang Wei immediately jumped from the bed and rushed to the window, his feet nearly tripping over the thin carpet scattered on the floor.
The scene that greeted him outside was a living panorama of hell.
The campus courtyard, usually filled with students joking and studying, had transformed into a survival battleground. The lush trees that once provided shade now stood as silent witnesses to the cruelty unfolding beneath them. Garden lights flickered irregularly, some completely dead, creating a play of light and shadow that added to the horror of the scene.
In the corner of the dormitory garden, a student in a red shirt—whom Huang Wei remembered often playing basketball on the court—now crawled desperately across grass beginning to stain with blood. Behind him, a figure who used to be his roommate pursued with stiff but relentless movements. There was no longer any warmth of friendship in those now-empty eyes, only primitive hunger.
The red-shirted student screamed as blood-stained teeth sank into his neck. His hands clawed at the ground, leaving bloody ten-finger marks while life slowly drained from his eyes.
Not far from there, a crowd of students pressed against the main library door—a three-story building that usually served as their refuge during exams. Now, that building had become their last fortress of hope. But that hope cracked when a large man suddenly grabbed his friend's shoulder.
"Sorry! I don't want to die here!" he shouted with a face that no longer recognized morality, pushing his friend toward a group of approaching infected like hungry wolves.
The pushed victim fell with disbelief written across his face—still shocked at being betrayed by someone close. His scream was cut short when the pack of monsters pounced.
---
On the left side, an even more heartbreaking scene unfolded. A professor in a formal jacket, now tattered and blood-soaked, crawled across the concrete floor. Both his legs were broken, left several meters behind, leaving a long trail of blood like a giant slug.
"Help! Help me...!" his voice was hoarse, barely audible amidst the chaos.
A running student glanced at him briefly, but fear overcame empathy. His pace quickened instead, leaving the professor alone to face his fate. Shortly after, a group of shambling infected approached. The professor's final scream was drowned in the horrible sounds of struggle.
In the middle of the campus field, usually green and beautiful, a girl had fallen and was being trampled by the panicked crowd. The grass that was once soft was now hard, mixed with blood and mud.
"Help! I can't stand up!" she cried desperately, but no one stopped.
Even several people who clearly knew her—maybe classmates or organization friends—chose to avoid her, afraid of getting trapped and becoming the next victim. From a distance, an infected figure with torn clothes and shambling steps began approaching, fresh blood still dripping from its mouth.
The girl cried, trying to crawl backward with bleeding hands, but exhaustion was taking over her body.
---
Huang Wei, witnessing all this from behind the window glass, felt his hair stand on end. Though he had mentally prepared for the worst-case scenario, this scene still far exceeded his imagination. This was no longer the world he knew—this was a new realm where morality and humanity became luxury goods that not everyone could afford to maintain.
The [Serenity] skill continued working, flooding his mind with waves of forced calm that prevented him from drowning in total panic. But that calm didn't kill his emotions—rather, because of the clarity it provided, the horror before him felt even sharper and more real. He could see every detail with clear eyes: every drop of blood, every expression of despair, every cowardly act performed to survive.
'The world has changed forever,' he thought with a cool head but a heart still touched. 'And if I want to survive, I must change too.'
A new resolve began forming in his chest—not from anger or despair, but from a mixture of forced calm and the inevitable flame of guilt. He had to survive. He could no longer surrender to despair like before, which had once made him almost... disappoint someone very precious.
The shadow of a kind elderly figure flashed briefly in his memory—wrinkled hands that always calmed him, a gentle voice that gave wise advice, and peaceful eyes that always believed in him despite his frequent failures. 'She always said I should be strong,' he thought bitterly. 'But I keep disappointing people who believe in me.'
If he died now, if he gave up again, then all the sacrifices made would be in vain. The sacred promise once spoken with sincerity, a promise broken repeatedly due to his weakness, must not end with meaningless death.
---
Taking a deep breath that fogged the cold window glass, Huang Wei closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, his gaze had changed—more determined, more focused, filled with resolve to survive and a purpose he hadn't fully revealed even to himself.
"I will become stronger," he whispered to his reflection in the window glass, his voice trembling but full of determination. "I will survive until the end of this apocalypse. And I will prove that I can keep my promise... this time for sure."
Crack! Crack! Crack!
His newfound resolve was interrupted by harsh scratching sounds at his room door. Terrifying growling echoed from the dark corridor, followed by irregular shuffling—like several people walking in strange ways.
Huang Wei immediately understood: there was a group of infected outside waiting to devour him. Maybe they smelled blood, or heard sounds coming from his room.
With a movement that surprised him for being so smooth and natural, Huang Wei grabbed the baseball bat lying on the floor. As his fingers gripped the worn wooden handle, a strange sensation traveled from his palm throughout his body.
The grip felt perfect in his hands, as if custom-made for him. The bat's weight felt perfectly balanced, and he instinctively knew where the sweet spot was for maximum impact. It felt as if he had trained with this weapon for years, every swing felt natural, every stance position felt right.
"Weapon Mastery," he murmured, his lips forming a thin smile not from joy, but from recognition of his situation's irony. He used to always avoid violence, always tried to solve problems peacefully. Now, violence had become the only way to survive.
The scratching sounds at the door grew louder and more numerous. Huang Wei could hear at least three or four different growling voices. In that narrow dormitory corridor, he would face them in confined space—advantageous for close-range weapons like a baseball bat.