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After going back and forth in his head, Julian finally gritted his teeth and taped the instant noodles and the can of Coke together.
With the extra weight from the Coke, throwing it across a few dozen meters might actually be doable.
Julian had spent years training what he proudly called his "kylin arm." Surely he could manage a bit more than that.
After a quick warm-up, he steadied himself.
A short run-up.
Wind up.
Throw!
The Coke-and-noodles combo shot across the gap like a cannonball.
Bang.
Dead center. It smacked the long-legged beauty right on the forehead.
She dropped straight backward.
"…Holy crap."
"I didn't just kill her, did I…?"
Julian's face twitched.
It wasn't like he hadn't killed before. In the apocalypse, he had.
But the girl across the way… she looked pretty innocent.
That felt different.
"Ah…"
"Maybe she'll wake up in a bit."
He muttered the words more to comfort himself than anything else.
Not like he could go over there to help anyway.
Wandering the streets at night, now crawling with tens of thousands of zombies, would be suicide. And once you left, there was no guarantee you'd make it back.
Besides, he still hadn't finished downloading his "benefits."
Over a hundred doujinshi collections. Dozens of gigabytes of anime.
In a world where all the artists had probably turned into zombies, these were priceless cultural relics.
After playing a few rounds against AI in a game, Julian calmly went to bed.
On the first day of a zombie outbreak, most people couldn't sleep.
Julian, on the other hand, was used to it.
At 6 a.m., he snapped awake.
He scanned his surroundings before letting out a slow breath.
"Looks like I really did transmigrate. Not a dream."
He rubbed his face.
"Oh right. I wonder how the long-legged girl is doing."
He picked up his binoculars and looked across.
The lights in her apartment were still on.
Judging by that, the hit must've knocked her out cold. She still hadn't woken up.
The guilt in his chest grew a little heavier.
"Shame I haven't finished downloading everything."
"Otherwise I'd head over and check on her."
He was still muttering when—
Ding!
A crisp notification sound.
Thunder download complete.
With fewer people hogging bandwidth in the apocalypse, downloads were blazing fast.
Julian blinked.
Seriously? Couldn't even let him finish complaining?
"Yeah, yeah. Never set a flag casually."
He sighed.
"Well. If I've really come back for a second life, I might as well live a little louder this time."
He made up his mind. He was going over there to check on her.
Before he transmigrated, he survived for a whole year by sticking to one principle: lie low.
But even lying low hadn't saved him in the end. He still died to zombies.
So this time, why not take a few risks?
Maybe before he dies again, he could at least get himself a girlfriend.
Of course, preparation came first.
He stuffed instant noodles, Coke, and bottled water into a hiking backpack.
The hard drive full of precious resources and his iPad went in too. No way he was leaving those behind.
Then he geared up.
He wrapped thick magazines around his forearms with tape. A centimeter of layered paper could block zombie bites without restricting movement too much.
Weapons were essential.
He dug out a short-handled hammer and a frying pan.
That was all he had. It would have to do.
Before heading out, he grabbed an alarm clock.
This little thing would be incredibly useful.
Once everything was ready, Julian pushed aside the cabinet blocking his door.
He peered through the peephole. The corridor looked clear.
Carefully, he opened the door.
The elevator was absolutely out of the question.
If it reached the first floor, opened, and revealed a lobby packed with zombies… that would be like sealing himself in a jar. No escape.
Even so, he still opened the elevator.
He set the alarm clock for five minutes and pressed the button for the first floor.
When the timer went off, the alarm would ring downstairs.
All the zombies on the first floor would be drawn to the sound.
That would be his window to sprint out through the stairwell.
"Five minutes…"
"Please don't let anything happen on the stairs."
He took a deep breath.
If he didn't reach the first floor before the alarm went off, he could easily get trapped by the wave of zombies converging on the noise.
But he couldn't set the timer too long either. The longer he stayed in the stairwell, the higher the risk.
"Alright…"
"Let's go."
He focused, pushed open the stairwell door, and stepped inside.
Even in daylight, the stairwell was dim.
A chill seemed to crawl straight down his neck.
He was on the 11th floor.
Five minutes meant he needed to clear a floor every thirty seconds.
That wasn't hard.
The only real problem was whether a zombie might suddenly lunge out halfway down.
Frying pan in his left hand. Hammer in his right.
He moved slowly, cautiously.
At every turn and each landing, he slowed, listening, scanning.
It cost him a bit of speed, but he made it safely to the third floor.
He checked the time.
Three minutes had passed.
Plenty of margin.
Just as he lowered his head to look at the clock, a blood-smeared face flashed past the stairwell window.
But it didn't seem to notice him.
He put his phone away and continued down.
At a corner, his frying pan accidentally scraped against the wall.
Not good.
His heart tightened.
The sound wasn't loud—but if any zombies were nearby, it would be enough.
A guttural roar answered him.
The stairwell door above burst open as a zombie lunged out.
Julian spun and swung his hammer.
But this one must have turned recently. Its skull was still solid.
The blow only dented its forehead.
The zombie roared again, spraying blood-flecked saliva as it charged.
Unfortunately for it, Julian had survived a year in this hellscape.
A basic zombie like this was no match.
As it lunged and lost its balance, Julian sidestepped cleanly.
The zombie crashed into the wall.
Julian stomped on its back and brought the hammer down on the back of its skull again and again.
Brains splattered across the concrete.
Within seconds, it went limp.
One zombie down.
But from upstairs came the thudding sounds of more doors slamming open.
The fight had drawn others.
There was no turning back now.
Julian inhaled sharply and continued downward.
Soon, he reached the first-floor stairwell.
In the lobby beyond, seven or eight zombies wandered aimlessly.
Charging out now would be suicide.
All he could do… was wait for the alarm to ring.
"....."