He decided to stop here.
The 12th floor was the perfect elevation—high enough to get a clear strategic overview of the surrounding area, but not so high that he'd become a conspicuous target or have to battle direct wind currents.
He surveyed the floor, still bare concrete, until he found the most suitable room. It appeared designed as an electrical control room or perhaps storage. Thick concrete walls on all four sides and a single entry point. Defensively perfect.
"This is the spot," he decided.
Mission 1: Fortification.
He spent nearly an hour scouring the floor. He dragged large sheets of plywood, scrap metal frames, and coils of wire left by the construction crew back to his "Nest." Using the crowbar as leverage and a hammer to secure everything, he built a sturdy makeshift barricade blocking the entrance, leaving only a small crawl space accessible.
With the temporary shelter secured, the next mission was Resource Assessment.
Kirin began his survey methodically, like auditing stock in his own warehouse. He moved up and down the floors tirelessly, and what he found was a goldmine.
On the roof, he discovered several thousand-liter plastic water tanks used by the workers. The water inside didn't look pristine, but passed through his high-grade filter, it became instantly potable. Long-term water issue: Solved.
In another zone of the basement he hadn't checked initially, he found two 200-liter drums of diesel fuel stored for generators... A prime energy source for the future.
Additionally, he gathered abandoned tools, strong ropes and slings, rebar scraps that could be sharpened into weapons, and much more. Anything with utility value was sucked neatly into his [Inventory].
Time passed until the rust-colored sky outside began to darken. Kirin returned to his "Nest" on the 12th floor. The physical toll of the day's labor was setting in, but his mind was strangely clear.
He decided to reward himself with a decent meal.
Kirin pulled rice from his dimension. He built a small fire using wood scraps and paper in a salvaged metal can, cooking the rice in a mess tin he had bought. The aroma of steaming rice wafting through the air made him feel "human" again. He opened a tin of canned fish in tomato sauce and poured it over the hot rice.
It was the simplest meal imaginable, but for Kirin in that moment... it was the finest dining of his life.
After eating his fill, he extinguished the fire completely and walked to the darkest edge of the building. Crouching in the shadows, he looked down at the dead city below. The moonlight filtering through the dust curtain allowed him to see vague shapes.
Herds of zombies still wandered aimlessly down there. They seemed attracted to sound, but with the silence, they merely walked on like programmed robots. He observed their behavior calmly, gathering data.
Then he saw it...
Amidst the slow, clumsy movements of the horde, a shadow darted across the street from one alley to another at high speed!
It wasn't a shambling walk... It was a "Run." The movement was too fast and purposeful to be a common zombie.
Kirin narrowed his eyes, focusing on where the shadow disappeared.
Another survivor? Or... a special variant zombie?
The thought chilled his blood. This new world wasn't just populated by slow-moving turtles.
He realized instantly that the fortress he built and the supplies he hoarded... might not be enough.
The swift shadow vanished into the ruins, leaving behind only questions and a cold dread gripping Kirin's heart. But the feeling wasn't fear... it was the same alertness he felt when discovering a competitor was about to launch a product to cut him off.
An unexpected variable... He thought, rubbing his chin. So this market isn't just for entry-level players.
His drowsiness evaporated. Adrenaline surged through his body. He wouldn't be sleeping tonight... and since he couldn't sleep, a good businessman never let time go to waste.
"If I can't sleep, let's put in some overtime," he muttered with a cynical smirk. "Consider it... corporate restructuring. 'Kirin Survival' Co., Ltd. (Sole Proprietorship)."
He didn't go back to bed. He started working immediately.
Mission 1: Security Upgrade.
He went downstairs again, scavenging until he found empty paint cans, scrap rebar, and wire. He brought them back up and constructed a simple "Sound Trap." He strung wires across the lower steps of the staircase, attaching them to cans filled with loose nuts and bolts. If an uninvited "guest" tripped the wire, the noise would wake him instantly.
"Security System Version 1.0... Simple but effective," he smirked with satisfaction.
Mission 2: Weapon Upgrade.
The machete and crowbar were good for close quarters, but facing "That Thing" which ran alarmingly fast made him realize that maintaining distance was crucial.
He selected a few straight pieces of rebar, about a meter and a half long, and began a "D.I.Y. Project" he had never done in his life. using a salvaged metal file, he sat patiently grinding the tips of the rebar. The sound of metal on metal, scritch-scratch, echoed through the silent floor.
"From CEO to Blacksmith... Talk about a career leap," he mumbled to himself, chuckling softly to break the boredom. "I'll have to file a quarterly report... Lance Production: 3 units. Alarm System Installation: 1 set... Net Profit: Still Alive."
He spent hours until he finally had three iron spears. They weren't pretty, but they were hard and sharp enough to kill. He leaned his "New Products" against the wall with pride.
Finally... before the first light of the new day arrived, he tried something interesting. He took out a bag of "Yardlong Bean" seeds, along with a large can filled with damp soil and concrete dust he'd scooped from a leak. He planted a seed... and placed his hand on the soil.
He closed his eyes, sending a warm current of energy into the dirt, guiding and stimulating the seed. "Wake up, kid... Time to work. Be a guard for me."
Nothing happened immediately, but he wasn't disappointed. "Okay, okay. Guess I have to wait... Plants need welfare and break times too."
When the blood-red dawn arrived again, Kirin returned to his observation point. He sat patiently in the shadows, staring at the dead city below.
And he saw it again.
In the better light, he could see its shape clearly. It had four limbs... No, it was a zombie moving on all fours! Its body was twisted, spine hunched, but the muscles were taut and dense. It moved with high speed and silence, climbing over car wrecks agilely like a wild beast. It wasn't wandering aimlessly... it was "Hunting."
Its eyes darted around swiftly. Suddenly, it pounced on a common zombie walking by!
Claws extending from its fingers shredded the common zombie apart effortlessly before it buried its face in the carcass, feeding ravenously.
Kirin's eyes widened... This wasn't just a stronger zombie. It was an entirely new species.
The System confirmed his thoughts.
"Level 3..." Kirin murmured. "So there are levels... just like in a game."
The picture in his head became crystal clear. The world hadn't just ended... it had been overwritten by "Game Rules." Hiding in this fortress indefinitely was like pausing the game. It was safe... but it would never make him a "Winner."
To survive in a battlefield with Level 3 predators, having supplies and shelter wasn't enough. He needed to get stronger... He needed to "Level Up."
And the only way to level up in a game... was to farm Experience Points.
Kirin looked down at the horde of slow Level 1 zombies below. In his eyes now, they were no longer just threats.
They were "Starter Monsters"... Prime XP farming sources.
A smile appeared on his lips again. But this time, it wasn't amused or cynical... it was the smile of a predator who had found a herd of juicy prey.
"Alright... If I have to play by the rules," he said to himself, picking up his freshly made iron spear and testing its weight.
"Then it's time to do some farming."