Chapter 13: The First Drop of Blood (Please Follow, Please Vote)

Opportunities vanish in an instant—get ready!

Zhang Su peered through the peephole, hand gripping the doorknob, poised to act.

“Wait, wait...”

Zheng Xinyu, startled that Zhang Su was about to open the door after just one word, stammered—she’d only said “wait” twice, but her trembling voice turned it into six or seven.

“What now?”

Zhang Su glared impatiently at Zheng Xinyu.

Zheng Xinyu clenched her fists and pounded her heaving chest. “Psych yourself up!”

“You can do this! We can do this!”

As Zhang Su encouraged Zheng Xinyu, he silently urged himself on too.

He’d fought and brawled before—even entered an octagon cage for a duel—but facing a zombie...

For the first time in his life, failure meant death. Though the chance of failure was slim, it didn’t stop his heart from racing with fear.

Zhang Su felt his mouth dry. Despite the cold snap’s chill, beads of sweat broke out on his back, dampening his grip on the axe handle—luckily, the handle had anti-slip treatment, so sweat wouldn’t make it slip.

He took a deep breath, held up three fingers to Zheng Xinyu, then two, then one!

Click.

Matching the zombie’s pounding, Zhang Su unlocked the door, pressed down the handle silently, and pushed—the door swung open!

Behind him, Zheng Xinyu, gripping the baseball bat, felt her heart lodge in her throat.

“Oh my god, I’m terrified of cockroaches! Now I’m supposed to kill zombies? I’m insane, totally insane!”

Zheng Xinyu muttered to herself as the door slowly opened. The pounding on Door 802 rang directly into her ears, vibrating in her chest—her knuckles, white from gripping the bat, trembled.

Along with the sound, a thick stench of blood seeped into the room, nauseating—like some primal instinct written into DNA: whenever this smell spread, injury or death was near.

Zhang Su’s expression was more serious than ever. He crouched low, bent his knees, and gestured for Zheng Xinyu to follow, stepping toward the zombie.

The cries for help from inside 802 had stopped, but the zombie kept pounding—thump, thump, thump—like war drums hammering on Zhang Su and Zheng Xinyu’s hearts.

From 801 to 802 was only five or six meters, but Zhang Su felt like he’d walked a century. When he drew within a meter of the zombie, his heartbeat must’ve hit 150.

Awwww, aahhh.

As it pounded the door, the zombie let out animalistic howls. Its right arm’s motion pulled its whole body, the left arm dangling, swinging back and forth—white bone shards clearly visible, grotesquely bloody.

Zhang Su didn’t turn to check Zheng Xinyu’s state—he couldn’t take his eyes off the zombie. He made a chopping motion with his left hand, then suddenly raised the short axe.

The black blade gleamed coldly, sharp enough to sever hair.

Zhang Su imagined the axe cleaving the zombie’s skull open—fear gripped him, yet he pressed forward.

Ding.

Just as Zhang Su raised his arm, a sharp metallic clang rang out.

The short axe collided with the baseball bat...

Awwww!

The zombie halted its pounding, its movements stiff—but its head turned with startling speed!

Six eyes locked.

The zombie, evidently unprepared for two intruders to suddenly emerge behind it, froze for a moment—only its mutated nostrils flared wider, as if sampling the scent.

For an instant, time seemed to freeze.

Eyes are windows to the soul. Zhang Su stared into the zombie’s eyes—blood-red orbs radiating only bloodlust and frenzy, devoid of any reason or mind.

“Kill it!”

Zhang Su forced out two powerful syllables from his throat, his right arm muscles bulging as the axe blade slashed through the air—no mercy, no hesitation, though this creature had been human just hours ago.

He’d never been a merciful saint. He knew exactly what this was: not a game, no room for hesitation or regret!

Plop!

A sickening sound echoed.

The sharp hatchet struck the zombie’s skull dead-on. Even bone, hardened as it was, split open under Zhang Su’s full force and the blade’s edge!

The axe blade embedded itself in the zombie’s face—from forehead to left corner of the mouth. The unbroken left lip split open, exposing white bone and torn flesh. Dark blood spattered onto the wooden door of the water meter box—thick, repulsive.

“Damn it, stuck! Use the hammer end to smash!”

Zhang Su had prepared for multiple strikes if the first didn’t kill—but he hadn’t expected the axe to jam in the skull. When he yanked hard, the zombie lurched forward, dragged toward him.

“Get the—”

Awwww!

The zombie, supposedly without pain, roared in fury. It raised its arm to strike—only to be hit again.

The heavy baseball bat slammed into the zombie’s right temple.

The ergonomic design made the heavy bat easy to wield. Zheng Xinyu hadn’t expected to land the hit—she hadn’t even noticed Zhang Su had pulled the zombie slightly forward. Otherwise, she’d have missed completely.

Aww.

Struck hard, the zombie lost balance and toppled backward—clearly, Zheng Xinyu had poured every ounce of strength into that swing!

“Good job!”

Zhang Su praised, then, as he pulled harder on the axe, he kicked out the foot he’d already prepared to thrust.

“F*** you!”

With the powerful counterforce, the axe finally pulled free—dragging a string of sticky fluid behind it.

Thud.

The zombie wasn’t a roly-poly toy. With its head smashed and its torso kicked, it staggered, collapsing against Door 802, slumping helplessly against it, mouth gaping open, moaning aimlessly—as if venting its rage.

Ambush was already dishonorable—now they were beating it as a group!

The zombie’s already horrifying face, now split open, looked like a blooming flower...

Thud!

Giving the zombie no chance to recover, Zhang Su flipped the axe, swung the hammer end high, and brought it down hard—cracking the zombie’s skull.

The axe-hammer delivered a solid blow!

Awwww.

Thud, thud, thud!

“Kill you, kill you, damn it, f***!”

Zhang Su growled under his breath, veins bulging on his forehead, muscles straining as his arms swung wildly—tissue, flesh, and bone shards flew with every strike, splattering the walls, ceiling, even the light fixture.

“Pant, pant... Is it dead yet?”

After over a dozen blows, Zhang Su stopped, stepped back, and leaned against the wall, watching the unrecognizable corpse warily.

“Puke!”

Zheng Xinyu’s reply was a retch—her abdomen convulsed as a jet of rice, Sichuan-style cured pork, peas, and other food erupted from her mouth, drenching the zombie.

Under Zhang Su’s frenzied blows, the zombie’s head was now a misshapen mass—like a mouthed bowl growing from its neck, internal structures exposed, edges a bloody pulp, a visual horror beyond words.

Getting no answer from Zheng Xinyu, Zhang Su kicked the zombie’s limp ankle. Seeing no reaction, he finally exhaled.

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(End of Chapter)