Chapter 124: Chapter 124: How Did This Turn Into a Zombie-Killing Game?
"W-what is that thing?" someone whispered, their voice filled with terror. The shovel in their hands nearly slipped to the ground.
No one answered, but a terrifying thought surfaced in everyone’s mind. ’This isn’t a living person at all!’
Then, from more than one place—from within the ruins, from beneath collapsed houses, from beside piles of trash—came more faint, rustling sounds. One after another, the same eerie figures crawled out. They shuffled about aimlessly, slowly closing in on the scent of the living. The stench of rot grew thicker, mingling with the musty air in a way that made one’s skin crawl.
Silas Hawthorne’s gaze turned icy. He tightened his grip on his weapon and yelled in a low voice, "Careful! They’re zombies! Everyone grab a weapon!"
The moment he spoke, the people, who had just moments ago been striving to rebuild their homes, were instantly plunged into an unprecedented panic.
The disaster had just ended, and they had only just begun to rebuild. No one had expected such horrifying creatures to emerge after the floodwaters receded. The flicker of hope they’d just found was instantly extinguished, overshadowed by this sudden threat. A crisis far more perilous than any natural disaster had just begun.
Sue Lawrence froze for a second.
’Honestly, the zombie crisis should have been triggered by a bout of acid rain, but for some reason, it seems like that part was skipped.’
But just as she was wondering about this, the cold, mechanical voice sounded in her mind once again.
[Ding! The Zombie Apocalypse has begun!]
’The zombie apocalypse?’
’It skipped the acid rain entirely?’
Sue Lawrence paused, but her body reacted faster. She reached into her backpack, pretending to pull out her folding military shovel, but in reality, she was retrieving the quintessential tool for any zombie apocalypse from her personal storage space: a military shovel.
Then, in full view of everyone, she charged forward and brought the shovel down in a sharp arc.
Drawing on her experience fighting zombies in a past life, Sue Lawrence moved with nimble efficiency. She knew exactly where their weak spots were. With a single swing of her shovel, the zombie’s head exploded.
Sue Lawrence was splattered with gore, but she quickly glanced at the zombie’s ruined head. It was empty.
’No Crystal Core?’
A pang of disappointment hit her, but she instinctively charged toward the second zombie.
The onlookers were dumbstruck. At first, everyone had been terrified of these creatures—they were just like the zombies from novels, after all. But now, Sue Lawrence had leapt into the fray like a grasshopper, taking them down one by one. With each swing of her shovel, a zombie’s head would burst open. It left them all completely stupefied.
"These... these things don’t seem so scary after all."
"Right, right! Not scary at all."
"Maybe we should give it a shot?"
Sue Lawrence’s clean, efficient movements acted like a shot of adrenaline, instantly bursting the bubble of fear in their hearts.
It couldn’t be helped; the girl was just too damn fierce.
As they spoke, many of them grabbed whatever tools they could find and charged at the nearest zombies.
Silas Hawthorne stood at the front of the group. His gaze swept over the agitated horde of zombies before flicking to the agile Sue Lawrence. He added in a low, commanding voice, "Aim for the head! That’s their weak spot!"
His words jolted everyone to their senses. No one hesitated any longer.
The men closest to the zombies were the first to charge, letting out guttural roars.
One man gripped the pickaxe he’d been using to level the ground. With a two-handed swing, he brought it down hard on a zombie’s head. The sharp point embedded itself in the zombie’s skull. The creature swayed, then fell stiffly to the ground, unmoving. Another man snatched a thick, dry branch from the ground. He swung it wide, slamming it into a zombie’s temple. The zombie crumpled sideways. Seizing the opportunity, he struck it again and again until it finally lay still.
The more timid survivors didn’t dare to get close. Instead, they crouched down, gathering broken bricks and rubble, and hurled them at the zombies’ heads with all their might.
The bricks struck the zombies’ shrunken, blue-gray heads, either caving in their skulls or splitting them open in a gush of blood. The zombies that were hit staggered, their movements slowing until they became little more than living targets.
Someone else, quick-witted and nimble-fingered, scavenged a sharp piece of scrap metal from a trash heap. Clutching it like a makeshift dagger, they waited for an opening, then lunged forward and plunged it deep into a zombie’s skull. Their technique was clumsy, but they still managed to hit the vital spot.
In the chaos, no one paid any mind to the filth or the stench. They were spattered with mud, putrid blood, and vile fluids from the zombies, but they were completely oblivious. The only thing in their sights were the slowly approaching monsters.
Even the women, normally considered gentle, now gritted their teeth. They picked up broom handles and small hoes, following behind the men to help pin down the zombies. As soon as a zombie fell, they would rush in to deliver a few finishing blows, making sure it was truly dead.
The last few, who were especially timid, cowered at first. But they saw everyone around them bravely fighting. They saw Victor Keller, his face a cold mask, viciously snap a zombie’s neck with his bare hands. Inspired, they too gritted their teeth, picked up thick wooden clubs, and swung blindly at the zombies lunging toward them. One blow, two blows, until the zombie collapsed. Only then did they let themselves gasp for air, their palms slick with cold sweat. But now, a sliver of confidence had taken root.
Sue Lawrence remained the most striking figure in the crowd. The folding military shovel was a blur in her hands, its edge razor-sharp. Every swing landed precisely on a zombie’s head, splitting it open. Her movements were clean and decisive, with no wasted effort.
After taking down four or five zombies in a row, she was still puzzling over the lack of Crystal Cores. Just as she was about to find a new target, she saw the zombie that Victor Keller had just finished off. From its cracked-open skull, a hard, rice-grain-sized object glowing with a faint white light rolled out of the putrid flesh. It landed in the mud, where it stood out starkly.
’Damn it, how is Victor Keller so lucky? Why didn’t I get one? My Luck Value is supposed to be high!’
Sue Lawrence pushed on, undeterred. Seeing another zombie closing in, she brought her shovel down hard. Finally, a red Crystal Core burst out.
"That’s a Crystal Core!" Silas Hawthorne, who had been observing calmly, called out immediately. "There are Crystal Cores inside the zombies’ heads! Smash them open and you’ll find them! You can exchange them for Points—each one is worth at least ten!"
At least ten Points each???
Hearing this, the crowd’s interest was instantly piqued. They had just been fighting for survival, but now there was a reward involved. Their motivation surged.
Those who had been flailing wildly at the zombies now aimed deliberately for the head. They put all their strength into each blow, determined to crack open the skulls and find those little Crystal Cores.
Soon, another man uncovered a pale white Crystal Core. He clutched it in his hand, a cool sensation spreading through his palm. "They’re real!" he yelled excitedly. "I found one!"
That one shout ignited everyone’s enthusiasm. They fought with renewed vigor: pickaxes swinging, clubs cracking, bricks flying, and scrap metal slashing. A cacophony of zombie roars, striking tools, and human war cries filled the air. The once-oppressive ruins had transformed into a proving ground for their survival.
Theodore Frost was dumbfounded. ’What happened to the zombie siege? Where’s the desperate struggle for humanity’s survival?’
