Chapter 14: Hunting Zombies, About to Level Up

After continuous use, you have mastered the Rope Technique.

Fang Shi waited a while but heard no second notification.

He sighed involuntarily, stepped forward, and retracted the rope wrapped around the bottle.

Ever since he discovered that first achievements came with rewards, he had been pondering how to farm them.

If mastering a specialty grants a reward, what about mastering a skill?

Probably yes, but forming a skill isn’t simple—it requires at least reaching proficiency in that skill before the panel recognizes it.

For example, lockpicking: you must open a door within three minutes, not spend hours fiddling with tools.

Only then is it recognized as a skill by the panel.

Fang Shi’s difficulty lay precisely here: the skills he was familiar with in his past life had come with him through rebirth.

None of them were skills he could quickly pick up.

After much deliberation, he finally settled on the Rope Technique, hoping to leverage his high base attributes to rapidly train and improve.

But by the time he succeeded, he was no longer the first.

This left Fang Shi slightly frustrated, yet given the global population, it wasn’t surprising that others had achieved it first.

They might not even be exceptional—many people’s skills were just one step away from daily life recognition.

In an instant, the panel might acknowledge them; it was purely luck.

It wasn’t something Fang Shi could simply claim for himself.

In truth, not receiving a reward didn’t matter—based on his own experience, he deduced:

Even if you were the first globally to master a skill, the reward would merely raise that skill’s level, similar to a specialty’s reward.

Such a reward held no appeal for Fang Shi; his main skill level already exceeded the upper limit of his personal level-up points.

To improve further, he must train himself.

Moreover, future level-ups would likely allocate excess skill points to secondary skills.

He had no shortage of skill points; whether he received a reward or not made no difference.

Fang Shi chose the Rope Technique for another reason: his upcoming escape might require climbing with ropes.

Mastering some techniques in advance might one day save his life.

At this moment, after a night’s rest and the effect of [Fang’s Breathing Method III], his exhausted body had fully recovered.

Fully equipped, he prepared to begin today’s hunt.

…

Fang Shi’s first target today was the supermarket; his strengthened body meant enormous energy consumption.

With no food at home and his stomach fully digested overnight, it was now empty.

If not for [Resilience I], his strength would have dropped by at least a third.

The residential compound was utterly silent, devoid of any human presence.

Before the apocalypse, this compound had never been this quiet—even without visible people, you’d hear TV, cooking, or washing machines.

Accompanied by pet barks, children crying, and couples arguing.

Now all of it was gone. The summer sun shone on Fang Shi, and he felt a chill.

After a night of suffering, those still alive had learned to be cautious, avoiding any noise to prevent unforeseen dangers.

As undead corpses, zombies wandered aimlessly until encountering the living, making no sound.

Soon, Fang Shi arrived at the small supermarket around the corner from his home.

Glancing sideways, he saw a female zombie pacing inside, her clothes still fresh and stylishly matched.

Clearly, the zombie had cared deeply about her appearance in life.

Now, paired with her decaying body and foul odor, it was bitterly ironic.

But Fang Shi wasn’t much better; after global game deployment, water and electricity were cut off.

After killing and transformation,

He hadn’t bathed—his stench was unimaginable.

To ensure safety, he had deliberately smeared zombie bodily fluids on himself to mask his living scent.

Now his body reeked of every foul odor imaginable—rot and decay all combined.

If not for his normal appearance, any living person smelling him would think he was a zombie on the move.

He waited briefly until the female zombie turned her back.

Using stealth techniques, Fang Shi crept silently toward her.

When he was one meter away, the zombie seemed to catch a scent and began to turn around.

Fang Shi lunged forward, swung his cleaver with force, and in one swift motion, severed her rotting head.

“Decapitation attack triggered.”

“Decapitation successfully executed. You dealt 22.5 points of fatal damage to the target [((Strength 15-10)/2 + Cleaver 6 (1d6) - Natural Armor 1) × 3].”

“Target deceased.”

“Extracting target’s soul energy. You gain 10 experience points, 1 Survival Point.”

That was easy, Fang Shi thought.

Level 1 zombies had only 16 HP; his attack killed them instantly.

The boost from 15 points in Strength, Agility, and Constitution was immense.

15 Agility allowed silent stealth; 15 Strength let him sever a zombie’s head cleanly.

This wasn’t the weak zombies at the start of the apocalypse game.

This was a Level 1 challenge: Strength 12, Agility 10, Natural Armor 1.

Ordinary people trying to copy Fang Shi would likely be spotted three meters away.

Even if they swung hard, their insufficient strength would leave the blade stuck halfway, leaving them vulnerable to counterattack.

As undead creatures, zombies felt no pain; even with a knife stuck in their neck, they could calmly retaliate if movement wasn’t impeded.

Come to think of it, did I choose the wrong class? So far, all my attacks have used weapons.

Every fight ends in decapitation—I’ve completely neglected my Warrior’s specialty: Hand-to-Hand Combat I.

“Cleaver”

“Hardness: 5”

“Sharpness: 5”

“Durability: 4”

“Damage Type: Slashing”

“Damage Range: 1d6”

“Critical Range: 19-20/×2”

“Weight: 900 grams”

“Type: One-handed use.”

“Evaluation: A cleaver used to chop many pig bones—now seemingly repurposed.”

Hmm… If I’m using weapons, I should’ve chosen Warrior; that class grants Weapon Specialization.

In his past life, Fang Shi chose Warrior precisely because it looked cool.

Back then, he was still childish, believing in the way of iron fists ruling the world.

He looked down on Warriors clad in heavy armor, wielding shield and sword.

He aspired to be a Warrior in fitted attire, moving with graceful agility.

Though reality eventually humbled him, that didn’t mean Warriors were weak.

Among past-life masters were martial immortals whose fist intent reached heaven and earth, sensing sun and stars—this was the ultimate goal of all Warriors.

Fang Shi now possessed rich post-apocalypse survival experience.

If he had no aspirations at all, it wouldn’t make sense—after all, Warriors also had weapon-based paths.

Besides, he couldn’t just abandon the advantages of his familiar class.

Choosing a class isn’t a one-time fix; you must develop it, or you’ll remain weak within it.

Now came mealtime; Fang Shi gathered a pile of food.

He hid in a corner of the store, using shelves to conceal his body while constantly peering through gaps to monitor the outside.

Then he gorged on chocolate bars, biscuits, instant noodles, bread, along with milk and cola.

His current appetite was at least one and a half times what it used to be; last night’s meal hadn’t even filled him.

“That’s better!”

Fang Shi patted his stomach contentedly.

After a brief rest, he picked up his cleaver and began his leveling session.

First, he would clear the zombies in every shop along the pedestrian street.

Shops had open entrances, few zombies, and usually only one or two per store.

As long as Fang Shi moved quickly, he didn’t need to fear other zombies hearing the noise and rushing over.

He was curious: with so few customers, how did these shops keep operating?

…

“Plop”

Another zombie with white hair fell to Fang Shi’s blade; he gently supported its body as it slowly leaned against the wall.

It wasn’t that he was merciful, but he had learned his lesson after a small mishap before.

The sound of a corpse collapsing drew the attention of its neighbors nearby.

He was ambushed by three corpses at once, though he dispatched them easily, it served as a warning.

His current hunting behavior is equivalent to assassination—never be so conspicuous.

Fang Shi did not possess the power to go on a rampage after being discovered, like in some assassin game.

Running away in panic would be anything but pleasant.

“Sigh, this time I expended even more strength.”

Fang Shi panted heavily, staring at the chipped cleaver, feeling helpless.

Anyone who chopped off dozens of heads with this weapon would end up like this.

He was now exhausted, his face flushed, sweat dripping continuously from his forehead—he needed rest badly.

Fang Shi first placed several metal bottles by the door, serving as sound alarms.

Then he hid in the shop’s restroom, carefully planning his next move.

First, he must prioritize locating the regional treasure chest—without a proper weapon, his strength would be severely hampered.

After the apocalypse, each region spawns a certain number of treasure chests.

Inside are weapons, food, medicine—all of which can aid humans in surviving the hardest initial period.

That was why the treasure chest was Fang Shi’s target.

But treasure chests weren’t easy to claim; they were usually guarded by Level 2 Elite Corpses.

Sometimes they even had a dozen or so Corpse minions.

Though he could easily handle an Elite Corpse alone, adding minions made it extremely dangerous.

He glanced at his status panel.

“Experience: 890.”

Almost there—if he killed eleven more Corpses, he’d have enough experience.

Once he leveled up to Level 2, his strength would surge, and the risk of claiming the chest would drop.

I hope the cleaver holds out until then.

Still, it was strange—he’d wandered outside for so long without seeing any unusual clusters of Corpses.

Were the survivors in this neighborhood so timid? Weren’t the survivors last night quite active?

He chuckled bitterly at himself—hadn’t he been the same once?

He had stayed indoors for a day, finally unable to bear the hunger, devised a plan to kill the Corpse blocking the door, then ventured out.

Those survivors who had fought before, having witnessed the horror of Full-Form Corpses, were even more terrified than those hiding in the shadows.

The apocalypse had utterly destroyed modern civilization.

Humanity seemed to have regressed to a primitive era—advanced modern weapons were all useless.

Industrial facilities could not be restarted; all high-precision devices had failed.

After the initial shock, the expansion of Blue Star turned city after city into isolated islands.

Waiting for rescue was pointless—only by taking the initiative could one find a sliver of hope.

In his past life, Fang Shi had understood this truth—but he understood it far too late.

He had missed the critical window, falling behind everyone else.

This life, by fortune, he had been given a second chance—he would never repeat his mistakes.