Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Time Travel to Georgia
(This is a survival, base-building, monster-slaying, leveling-up story. For readers who haven’t played the game, I’ll explain what the various stats do as clearly as possible.)
...
Kingsland, Georgia.
When Luke Li opened his eyes, the back of his head felt like someone had hit him with a baseball bat.
Clutching his head, he sat up in bed. The first thing he saw was a yellowed wall, and the air was filled with the smell of cheap cleaning products.
He was in a motel.
“…This isn’t right. Where the hell have I ended up? Is this even Earth?”
He clearly remembered being in a hotel in New York last night, working overtime until two in the morning before passing out the moment his head hit the pillow.
But when he woke up, he was in a motel room he had never seen before.
Did I time-travel?
Then this better be the galgame world I’ve been dreaming about!
And please don’t let me become the victim!
Luke Li rolled out of bed and stepped barefoot onto the carpet. Sunlight slipped through the gaps in the curtains.
Outside was a two-lane road. Across the street stood a gas station and a waffle restaurant.
A few pickup trucks were parked along the roadside. A white man was loading a toolbox into one of them, and beyond that stretched a wide expanse of pine forest.
It looked very much like the American South.
But it definitely wasn’t a big city like New York. It felt more like a rural town.
He turned to the phone on the nightstand. His iPhone 18 Pro had turned into an old Samsung flip phone. The date on the screen read:
July 13, 2010.
“2010…”
Luke Li’s mind went blank.
Just then, an ice-blue, translucent panel appeared out of thin air before his eyes.
At the top of the panel was a line of bold text:
[Project Zomboid: All-Profession System. Activated]
Below it was a smaller line of text.
[Welcome to the apocalypse, Host.]
[You have 72 hours to prepare.]
[Apocalypse Countdown begins. 71:58:33]
Luke Li stared at the panel without moving for a full ten seconds.
His brain was racing,
- Georgia. Apocalypse. 72 hours.
Those fragments of information slowly clicked into place. A few lingering place names stirred Luke Li’s memory.
The Walking Dead. He had been transported into the world of the TV series.
The timeline matched the beginning of the show’s first season: the summer of 2010, Atlanta, Georgia, and the surrounding areas, where a global disaster caused by an unknown virus erupted without warning.
The dead rose and hunted the living. In less than a year, human civilization collapsed into a post-apocalyptic wasteland.
He loved The Walking Dead. He had watched it again and again.
The place names and timeline matched. There was no mistake.
This was the Walking Dead universe.
As for the “Project Zomboid” system, it came from his favorite single-player game in his previous life: Project Zomboid, a zombie survival simulator famous for its brutal hardcore difficulty.
Back then, after finishing the show and still wanting more, he had seen the game on Douyin and bought it at full price right away.
He never imagined it would become his lifeline.
He looked at the system panel in front of him, then at the quiet little town outside the window.
The motel walls were thin. The sound of a television drifted in from the next room, where a news channel was airing the weather forecast. The anchor’s voice was bright and cheerful, but to Luke Li, it sounded like a brief illusion before the storm.
Luke Li took a deep breath.
He knew the crisis would soon sweep across the entire world.
In the world of The Walking Dead, the pressure of surviving the apocalypse could break anyone with a weak mind.
At the same time, he noticed a tiny gray icon appearing in the upper right corner of his vision.
[Tension]. Gray, faintly flickering.
Beside it was a golden marker that glowed steadily with a soft light:
[Transmigrator]. Golden, permanent.
One seemed to show his emotional state, while the other was an identity marker.
Luke Li closed his eyes and clenched his fists, feeling his fingernails dig painfully into his palms.
It was real.
All of it was real.
When he opened his eyes again, his gaze had changed.
Survival or destruction had never been a question.
In 72 hours, walkers would appear on the streets, and the whole of Atlanta would fall within days.
The military would lose control and be forced into a full retreat.
Hundreds of millions of people would die.
And he was standing at the starting line of the apocalypse, with something close to foresight.
But he could not save the world.
He could only save himself.
Since he had been reborn, he would live properly.
The numbers on the system’s Apocalypse Countdown ticked down in silence, urging Luke Li to hurry and prepare for the apocalypse.
“71:55:07”
“71:55:06”
“71:55:05”
Luke Li picked up the pickup truck keys from the nightstand and strode toward the door.
He pulled it open, and the July heat of Georgia rushed into his face. The sunlight was so bright it stung his eyes.
Across the street, a waitress at the restaurant was wiping the windows. She gave him a friendly wave.
Luke Li did not respond.
He looked in the direction of Atlanta. In three days, the sky over there would hang above a living hell.
A true hell on earth.
He turned and walked toward the silver-gray Ford F-150 in the parking lot. He slid the key into the ignition, and the engine roared to life.
“Seventy-two hours. At most, that’s only three days,” he muttered, shifting into drive. “Not nearly enough time, but it’s still much better than having the apocalypse drop on my head with no warning.”
The pickup pulled out of the parking lot, kicking up a cloud of red dust.
...
In the rearview mirror, Kingsland grew smaller and smaller.
Luke Li held the truck steady at sixty miles per hour, his eyes sweeping over the road signs on both sides.
The nearest Walmart was about twelve miles away.
A gun shop in Brunswick was more than twenty miles away.
There should be a few hardware stores along the way.
What did he need to survive the apocalypse?
Food, water, medicine, weapons, tools, and fuel.
Not a single one could be missing.
On the system panel, a new mission prompt unfolded.
[Emergency Mission: Apocalypse Preparation]
[Host must collect as many survival supplies as possible within 72 hours]
[Rewards will be distributed based on collection tier]
[C-Rank (Basic): 2 Attribute Points]
[B-Rank (Excellent): 4 Attribute Points + 1 Beginner Skill Book]
[A-Rank (Outstanding): 6 Attribute Points + Beginner Gift Pack + 1 Random Blueprint Box]
[S (Legendary): 10 Attribute Points + all-purpose beginner gift pack + 3 random blueprint boxes + ???]
Luke Li’s gaze lingered on that final tier for a moment.
A “???” reward, plus some kind of mystery box?
He pressed down on the gas pedal. The pickup’s engine gave a low growl as the speed climbed to seventy miles per hour.
...
Chapter 2: A Shopping Spree
Less than five minutes after the pickup left Kingsland, Luke Li pulled over to the side of the road.
He had rushed out to buy supplies without even knowing how much money he had.
What if he got to the store and could not find a single penny on him? Was he supposed to go on a “zero-dollar shopping spree”?
“Attribute Panel,” he silently called in his mind.
The blue panel switched at once, and a complete stat sheet unfolded.
[Host: Luke Li]
[Age: 24 | Status: Chinese-American, graduate student in mechanical engineering]
[Base Attributes]
Strength: 5 | Agility: 5 | Constitution: 5 | Perception: 5 | Intelligence: 7 | Spirit: 6
Charisma: 5 | Luck: 3 | Stamina: 5 | Willpower: 6
[Attribute Cap: 20 (Luck Cap: 15) Allocatable Points: 0]
Almost every attribute was sitting at 5.
In “Project Zomboid,” a character with straight 5s would not last a week in the game.
Of course, that was already a generous estimate.
When he first started playing “Project Zomboid,” he could not even survive the first day.
The only bright spots on the panel were his Intelligence of 7 and Spirit of 6.
His graduate-level knowledge and his own mental fortitude put him above most ordinary.
As for Luck being only 3, that meant he would probably pull junk whenever he opened a treasure chest.
The Skill Panel was even worse. Passive, Weapons, Survival, and Crafting, dozens of skills across four categories, all of them were Lv.0.
Low EQ: a useless good-for-nothing who couldn’t do anything.
High EQ: a blank slate with a promising future.
His only starting advantage came from his initial profession.
[Current Class: Firefighter (Starting Class)]
[Bonuses: Stamina +3, Bladed Weapons +1]
[Talent: Will of Fire: Fire damage reduced by half; immune to Fire Panic]
On the actual panel, that translated to Stamina Lv.3 and Bladed Weapons Lv.1.
Still better than nothing.
Finally, there was the system backpack. On the right side of his vision, a semi-transparent grid spread open.
[Grid Backpack: 0/20]
[Backpack Trait: Time-Stop Storage (Food Does Not Spoil) Note: Cannot store living things; operation takes approximately 1 second]
Twenty slots was not much, but the fact that food would not spoil was crucial. In the middle and late stages of the apocalypse, food would be hard currency.
As long as he stockpiled enough food in advance, he would have more supplies than he could eat once the apocalypse arrived.
Luke Li closed the panel.
Good news: he had just started out, so there was plenty of room to grow.
Bad news: he had to survive as an ordinary person first.
Luke Li searched the original body’s wallet and found $1,430 in cash, plus two credit cards with an $8,000 limit each.
In Georgia in 2010, that was enough to buy quite a lot.
As for whether spending every cent he had would push him past the death line...
Luke Li gave a cold laugh. Money was worthless, especially in the apocalypse.
A sack full of bills might not be worth a single bottle of mineral water.
The pickup returned to the road.
...
First stop: Walmart in Brunswick.
In forty minutes, Luke Li cleared out three shopping carts’ worth of supplies.
Food: canned goods, peanut butter, beef jerky, energy bars, protein powder...
Luke Li had standards when choosing food. He only wanted high-calorie items with long shelf lives.
Bottled water filled four large shopping carts.
Medicine: ibuprofen, fish antibiotics, whose ingredients were equivalent to amoxicillin and required no prescription, povidone-iodine, gauze, hemostatic powder, and three first-aid kits.
Miscellaneous items: flashlights, batteries, lighters, paracord, duct tape, sleeping bags, and hand-crank radios.
The cashier’s eyes went wide. “Oh, my dear child! Are you planning to open a grocery store?”
“Just a family camping trip. The whole family’s coming along!”
Total cost: $687, paid in cash.
While loading the truck, he used his body to block the view and stored the supplies in batches inside the system backpack.
As he transferred items into the grid backpack, Luke Li discovered something that almost made him ecstatic.
Backpack items stacked automatically by type.
Theoretically, he could stack 999 bottles of water in one slot.
It was not that he had turned cheats on. He had never turned them off in the first place.
[System Backpack: 14/20]
Six slots left. He had to save them for more important things.
...
Second stop: Dick’s Gun Shop.
Luke Li pushed open the door. The place smelled of gun oil and leather. Long guns hung across the walls, while handguns were neatly arranged inside glass display cases.
Boxes of ammunition were stacked beneath the glass counters, laid out like some damn art exhibition.
In America, guns really were just another kind of merchandise.
No wonder people joked about freedom and firearms going hand in hand.
Behind the counter stood a white man of about sixty, with a gray crew cut, bronze skin, and a Marine Corps tattoo on his right arm.
In America, any veteran with a little spare cash and connections seemed bound to open a weapon shop.
Luke Li looked above his head. Emotional states appeared in separate labels, each with its own color marker.
[Calm]. Light green.
[Friendly]. Warm yellow.
[Old Injury. Lumbar Spine]. Light red.
Friendly.
Luke Li relaxed slightly.
Good thing he was not the kind of PTSD veteran with antisocial tendencies.
“Good afternoon, sir! I’d like to look at handguns and rifles, and I need a large amount of ammunition.”
After checking his driver’s license, the veteran Jim Hurst spent twenty minutes helping him choose a Glock 17 and 19, same caliber with interchangeable magazines, a Remington 870 shotgun, and a Ruger 10/22 rifle.
Ammunition: 1,000 rounds of 9mm, 300 rounds of 12-gauge shells, and 2,000 rounds of .22 LR.
Luke Li bought everything in one go like money was no object.
A [Curiosity] icon flashed above Jim’s head, but he did not ask anything. In Georgia, owning guns was completely legal.
With enough money, you could buy out the entire weapon shop.
No one cared what you planned to do with the weapons, as long as you paid enough tax.
Before checkout, Jim took him to the small shooting range behind the shop to test the guns.
“A gun you don’t know how to use is just scrap metal. Come on, I’ll teach you.”
The veteran taught Luke Li the Weaver stance, a two-handed grip, focusing on the front sight, and breath control.
The first shot landed in the lower-left corner of the target paper, six inches off.
[Handgun Skill Experience +5]
The second shot was four inches off. By the third and fourth shots, the impacts had started to tighten.
Luke Li had once heard a friend say that when it came to shooting, you should not overthink your aim. Bring the gun up, let it happen, and the shot would come.
By the time he emptied the first magazine, 11 out of 17 shots had hit.
[Handgun Skill: Lv.0 → Lv.1]
[Effect: Base Accuracy +10%, Reload Speed +5%]
Luke Li felt a subtle change in his fingers. It was not that firing a few shots had turned him into a sharpshooter, but his muscle memory was being rewritten.
The awkwardness of holding a gun was being stripped away little by little.
Grip angle, trigger pressure, recoil control... instincts that usually took thousands of rounds to develop had been compressed by the system into seventeen shots.
On the second magazine, all 17 rounds hit the target, with 6 striking the bullseye.
Jim whistled. “Not bad, kid. If you joined the military, your drill instructor would definitely like you.”
Beside the [Friendly] icon above the veteran’s head, another label appeared: [Admiration].
The firearms and ammunition came to $2,228 in total. Jim threw in two extra magazines and a firearm maintenance manual.
Before leaving, Luke Li hesitated, then turned back and said,
“Mr. Jim, about those reports on the news of unknown illnesses. If the situation changes, you’d better close the shop early, seal the doors and windows, and prepare enough water and food.”
[Confusion] flashed above Jim’s head before returning to [Calm].
“...The flu?”
“It may be much worse than the flu. There’s no harm in preparing early.”
The veteran was silent for a few seconds, then slowly nodded. “All right. I’ll remember that.”
Jim was a man with a decent personality and no sign of prejudice, so Luke Li did not mind giving him a warning.
He locked the weapons and ammunition in the pickup’s toolbox and moved part of them into the backpack.
[System Backpack: 18/20]
Only two slots remained. He needed some axes and crowbars. Cold weapons would be just as important in the apocalypse.
Luke Li started the pickup and turned toward the hardware store across the street.
Just then, a man got out of a beat-up Dodge sedan. He looked to be in his thirties, wearing jeans, a gray T-shirt, and a baseball cap.
He seemed perfectly normal.
But above his head...
Luke Li’s hands tightened around the steering wheel.
A faint icon hovered above the man’s head. Its color marker was pale orange, and most importantly, the status text read:
[Fever. Unknown Cause]
A fever was one thing, but what the hell did “unknown cause” mean?
The man rubbed his temples, sneezed, pulled out a tissue to wipe his nose, then slowly pushed a shopping cart toward the entrance of Walmart.
He acted like it was just a normal cold, but Luke Li saw the sunken eye sockets and the sickly pallor of his skin.
If he still could not tell what was going on, then he had watched The Walking Dead for nothing.
Infected.
The zombie virus had already begun spreading on a large scale.
[Apocalypse Countdown: 68:41:17]
“...Looks like the system’s countdown means the apocalypse will erupt all at once when the timer hits zero, not that the attacks will only start then.”
Luke Li’s heart tightened, and his foot pressed down harder on the gas without him realizing it.
In the rearview mirror, people were still coming and going beneath Walmart’s bright sign.
That was the hardest part to guard against. The apocalypse would not begin from the outside. Humanity would collapse from within.
[Apocalypse Countdown: 68:39:05]
The pickup quickly stopped in front of the hardware store.
...
Chapter 3: Stockpiling Supplies
The hardware store was called Grace Building Materials, and its storefront was much smaller than Walmart’s.
But in the apocalypse, the things sold here would be even rarer than food.
Tools.
Food could keep you from starving in the apocalypse, but tools could keep you alive for far longer.
Human ancestors had dominated the ancient world for millions of years precisely because they freed up two weapon slots to use tools.
At least, that was how the early ape god evolution theory went.
Luke Li pushed open the door and was hit by the strong smell of motor oil mixed with fresh lumber. The shelves were neatly lined with all kinds of tools, everything from screwdrivers to chainsaws.
Luke Li’s first choice was the legendary tool of the apocalypse: the fire axe.
A red handle, a steel axe head, and with the Bladed Weapons bonus from his firefighter profession, it was currently the melee weapon that suited him best.
He picked it up and weighed it in his hand. About three and a half pounds, with the center of gravity leaning forward, giving each swing plenty of momentum.
It would not take much effort to chop off half a walker’s head.
[Bladed Weapons Equipped. Current Bladed Weapons Skill: Lv.1]
A system prompt popped up.
Luke Li automatically translated it in his head: the firefighter had obtained his class weapon.
Beside it was a short handled camp axe that could be used one handed, so he bought that too.
One long, one short. That covered different combat distances.
Next came crowbars. He bought one long and one short as well.
They worked wonders for prying locks and forcing doors open, far better than jabbing around with a screwdriver.
In a pinch, they could also be used to bash walkers.
Then came...
A folding saw, a multi tool, a screwdriver set, and a wrench set. Basic tools for vehicle maintenance and everyday repairs.
...
The building materials section.
Two rolls of barbed wire, a bundle of wooden planks, ten boxes of nails in various sizes, five boxes of wood screws, and several hinges and door locks.
These were bulky items. He could not stuff them all into the system backpack like smaller goods.
Besides, there were not enough slots left.
Luke Li stored the fire axe and crowbar in the backpack, taking up the last two slots, then loaded everything else into the bed of the pickup.
[System Backpack: 20/20. Full]
It was full. Completely full. Not a single thing more would fit.
The slot crisis really was the biggest limitation. In other apocalypse survival stories, people had infinite warehouse storage and started by hoarding tens of billions in supplies. Why did his situation look so pathetic by comparison?
That hurt.
Still, he vaguely remembered the system mentioning that backpack space could be expanded through mission rewards.
He would have to wait until he completed the Apocalypse Preparation mission and claimed the reward.
The hardware store total came to $416.
The cashier was a young girl with freckles, probably still in high school. Even after seeing him buy so much, she did not react much.
No one cared what you planned to do with an axe. They only cared whether you were buying enough.
As he left, Luke Li glanced at her.
Buffs above her head: [Bored]. Gray. [Sleepy]. Light blue.
He looked away. It seemed not everyone had information worth paying attention to above their heads, but there was no harm in checking. Every glance might reveal something new. After all, being able to see through other people’s minds was the biggest cheat of all.
On the way back, Luke Li stopped at a gas station.
He filled the pickup’s tank, then bought two five gallon portable fuel cans, filled them with gasoline, and tied them down in the truck bed. Fuel would be even rarer than ammunition in the middle and late stages of the apocalypse. Generators, vehicles, and every kind of machinery depended on it.
He swept through the gas station convenience store as well: lighters, cigarettes, which he did not smoke but which counted as hard currency in the apocalypse, chocolate bars, and a few bottles of whiskey.
Altogether, the odds and ends cost less than a hundred dollars.
By the time he returned to the motel in Kingsland, the sun had already begun to sink.
Luke Li backed the pickup into the parking space closest to his room and started unloading.
Physical supplies soon filled more than half the room: water, wooden planks, barbed wire, fuel cans, and toolboxes.
The most essential supplies stayed in the system backpack: all the ammunition, most of the food and medicine, the fire axe, and the crowbar.
He shut the door, drew the curtains, and began reinforcing the room.
He nailed wooden planks to the inside of the windows, but did not seal them completely, leaving narrow gaps for observation. The door lock itself was flimsy, so he took the crowbar from the backpack and wedged it against the bottom of the doorframe, then shoved the nightstand behind the door.
It was to guard against walkers, and also against rioters once the apocalypse began.
During the first few hours of the outbreak, the most dangerous thing would not be the walkers. It would be panicked people.
By then, looting, riots, shootings... social order would collapse within hours, and the thin bottom line of human nature would not survive the test.
After finishing the basic defenses, Luke Li sat on the edge of the bed, disassembled his Glock 17, and cleaned and lubricated it according to the steps Jim had taught him.
His movements were still clumsy, but much better than they had been a few hours ago.
No experience notification appeared on the system panel. Maintenance was a basic operation and did not grant skill experience.
But hands on practice still mattered. The system could only speed up his learning curve. Practice was still necessary.
He reassembled the gun, chambered a round, flicked off the safety, and placed it beside his pillow.
Then he turned on the TV.
The old television flickered a few times before the picture steadied. He switched to a news channel.
The anchor was reporting on the situation in the Middle East in a calm, professional tone, while the ticker at the bottom of the screen scrolled through stock market data and sports news.
Luke Li switched to the local news channel and watched for another ten minutes. Weather forecast, traffic accidents, community events.
The news in Georgia was almost too bland.
Luke Li nearly wondered if he had judged wrong. Had the local unrest caused by walkers not started yet?
Just as the thought settled, a new line of text appeared on the ticker at the bottom of the screen.
“Unidentified violent incident at Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta. Multiple patients attacked medical staff. Three injured. Police have launched an investigation.”
Luke Li froze, then leaned closer and turned up the volume.
Grady Memorial Hospital.
He knew that name far too well. It was the place where Beth was shot.
The news was only a single line on the ticker. They did not even cut to footage. To the anchor, it was just an ordinary hospital violence incident.
Similar stories happened every day in America. Assaults were common enough that they were not worth a special report.
But Luke Li knew this was not that simple. “Patients attacking medical staff” was not unusual. The unusual part was that those patients were not alive.
The zombie outbreak had already begun. It was just still in its incubation stage, not drawing widespread attention from ordinary people yet.
Once it fully erupted, it would already be too late.
He glanced at the system countdown.
[Apocalypse Countdown: 51:22:38]
Fifty one hours left.
Once the timer hit zero, Atlanta would become a dead city. The military would seal off the highways and launch a full response, but it would be useless. Survivors would scatter like ants.
The panic in the crowds would ignite the entire city, and even the military would not be able to suppress it.
Luke Li turned off the TV.
The room fell silent.
He quickly ran through his next plan in his mind.
Tomorrow would be the last day of his shopping window. He needed to restock the remaining supplies, focusing on medicine and a wider variety of food. If possible, he also needed to buy a hunting bow or crossbow. Silent ranged weapons would be extremely useful in the apocalypse.
The day after tomorrow, the apocalypse would break out. He could not go to Atlanta first. That place would become a meat grinder. His best option was to move southeast toward the outskirts, find a secluded farmhouse as a temporary base, reinforce it with building materials, and ride out the first wave of chaos.
Once the situation stabilized a little, he would move northwest toward the quarry outside Atlanta.
He needed to find one of the most important camps from the original series.
Rick Grimes’ camp.
The people he had watched on screen for ten years, Shane, Lori, Carl, Daryl, Glenn, Carol, and Dale, had all gathered there through twists of fate.
He had to join them.
Not because of nostalgia, although that was part of it.
More importantly, that group was one of the few teams that could survive to the very end. As a Transmigrator, his foresight only worked on events surrounding the main characters.
And in the apocalypse, Rick’s group was one of the few lights of humanity still worth trusting.
A lone wolf would not last long. He needed a team, and Rick’s group was the best choice.
The premise was that he had to be strong and valuable enough for them to accept him, or even let him lead them in return.
Luke Li stood, walked to the window, and looked out through the gaps between the wooden planks.
Night had fallen over Kingsland. Streetlights came on one after another. Across from the motel, several truck drivers were sitting by the diner window, eating dinner.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Luke Li returned to the bed, picked up the fire axe, and gave it a turn in his hand.
The red handle gave off a dull sheen under the light, and the axe blade was smooth and clean.
He set the axe beside the bed, next to the Glock 17.
Then he lay down and closed his eyes.
He needed proper rest. A hard fight was coming.
This was also something “Project Zomboid” had taught him: the fatigue debuff reduced all attributes, and extreme fatigue led to mistakes.
In the game, a mistake meant loading a save and trying again.
In reality, a mistake meant defeat.
Before his consciousness sank into darkness, he took one last look at the system panel.
The mission progress bar had already passed the halfway point and was closing in on the A-Rank threshold.
Tomorrow, he would push it to S-Rank.
That “???” reward was something he was determined to get.
[Apocalypse Countdown: 50:58:11]
....
Chapter 4: The Crisis Begins
(Around Chapter 12, we’ll join Shane’s camp. Rest assured, dear readers, this book will absolutely not drift away from the original series’ main characters.)
Luke Li was woken by police sirens.
The sound of several police cars came from the highway in the distance, their wails stretching long through the morning air.
Luke Li heard someone in the room upstairs cursing at the top of their lungs.
He opened his eyes. Gray morning light seeped in through the gaps in the curtains, and his phone showed 6:14 a.m.
[Apocalypse Countdown: 43:17:02]
Forty three hours.
Luke Li got up and washed his face. Cold water hit his skin, flushing the last traces of sleep down the drain.
The face in the mirror was young and thin, with slightly sunken eyes.
The original body had belonged to a graduate student who stayed up late for years, so his foundation was not exactly great.
Before heading out, he tucked the Glock 19 into the back of his waistband and covered it with the hem of his shirt. The fire axe was too conspicuous, so he left it in the backpack.
He started the pickup and drove onto the road.
Kingsland looked almost the same as yesterday. The Waffle House was open as usual, the gas station sign was lit, and two children in school uniforms rode their bicycles past the intersection.
But there were still subtle changes.
Luke Li noticed a police car parked by the roadside. Two officers stood at the door of a house, talking to the homeowner, a middle-aged woman with her arms crossed and her face pale.
He slowed down and glanced at the space above the woman’s head.
[Fear]. Orange.
[Shock]. Light yellow, flashing violently.
He did not stop. In horror movies, cowardice and fear did not necessarily get people killed, but curiosity definitely did.
After a twenty minute drive to Brunswick, the atmosphere on the streets had clearly changed.
Walmart’s parking lot was twice as full as yesterday. People were pushing carts piled high with goods and stuffing them into their cars with frantic movements, as if afraid someone would snatch everything away. Seven or eight cars were lined up at the gas station. Normally, there would be two or three at most at this hour.
As he passed a pharmacy, he saw three people arguing at the entrance, their voices loud enough to carry across the street.
They were one step away from grabbing baseball bats off the shelves and starting a fight.
Luke Li swept his gaze over their buffs.
[Anxiety]. Yellow.
[Anger]. Light red.
[Fear - Mild]. Light orange.
Different colors represented different emotions.
Before, most people’s emotional colors had stayed calm and neutral. Now, yellow signs of anxiety were starting to appear everywhere.
It reminded him of playing SimCity.
At the start, when the city was first built, the residents’ mood index stayed green. A few days later, yellow warnings would begin to appear.
Then large areas would turn red, management would fail, and the residents would move out.
While waiting at a red light, he saw a young woman crossing the sidewalk. She was in her early twenties, with a ponytail, unsteady steps, and a faint pallor on her face.
The buff above her head read:
[Fever - Unknown Cause]. Orange.
[Cough]. Light yellow.
This woman’s condition was worse than the infected man he saw yesterday.
Luke Li looked away. The light turned green, and he stepped on the gas.
Today’s goal was clear: restock at the pharmacy, buy a crossbow from the outdoor store, then return to the motel as quickly as possible.
Public anxiety had already started to ignite. He did not want to still be outside when the crowds lost control.
The pharmacy took twenty minutes.
He cleared out all the broad-spectrum antibiotics, painkillers, fever reducers, and allergy medicine on the shelves, then stocked up on more gauze and bandages. He also grabbed the largest bottles of povidone-iodine and alcohol he could find.
The pharmacist frowned when he saw how much Luke Li was buying.
“Sir, these medications...”
“I’m in charge of a summer camp in Savannah,” Luke Li said with a smile. “Three hundred kids. I need to make sure we’re fully stocked.”
The pharmacist’s expression eased. The [Suspicion] above his head faded and changed into [Understanding].
Total cost: $312, paid by credit card.
His backpack was already full, so the extra medicine could only go into the back seat of the pickup.
Next stop: Bison Outdoors on the east side of town.
It was a medium-sized outdoor store that sold hunting gear, camping equipment, and fishing supplies.
Luke Li went straight to the hunting section and found what he wanted on the shelf.
A Barnett Jackal recurve crossbow, 150-pound draw weight, 40-yard effective range, fitted with a red dot sight.
A crossbow’s advantages in the apocalypse were obvious. It was quiet, would not attract hordes of walkers, was easier to manage than a gun in certain situations, and the bolts could be recovered and reused.
At close range, a crossbow bolt was no less lethal than a firearm.
He also picked up sixty carbon fiber bolts, a quiver, and a set of string maintenance tools.
Then he added a hunting knife, a KA-BAR with a seven-inch blade, just right as a backup melee weapon.
At checkout, the clerk gave him a few extra looks but said nothing. In Georgia, no permit was needed to buy a crossbow.
Asian faces were just rare here, especially Asian men buying weapons.
The total came to $487.
When he stepped out of the store, the sunlight was glaring. Luke Li narrowed his eyes and walked toward the parking lot, carrying the long box that held the crossbow.
As he approached his truck, he suddenly stopped.
Two men were standing beside the pickup.
Two white men in their thirties, wearing sleeveless shirts, with cheap tattoos on their arms.
One was leaning against the door of his pickup, smoking. The other was bent over, peering into the truck bed.
Luke Li glanced at the readings above their heads.
First man: [Hostility]. Red. [Greed]. Dark yellow. [Alcohol Influence - Mild]. Gray.
Second man: [Hostility]. Red. [Tension]. Gray, flashing.
Drinking at ten in the morning and poking around someone else’s truck.
These were not the kind of bandits who would only appear after the apocalypse. They were the kind of trash that had already existed before it.
Arrogant, bitter men at the bottom, looking down on everyone else.
Luke Li slowed his pace. His right hand quietly reached behind his waist, and his fingertips touched the grip of the Glock 19.
Draw the gun? No.
Opening fire now would be suicide. The police were still maintaining social order. He could not get arrested and end up welcoming the apocalypse from a holding cell.
He let go of the gun and instead took the short-handled camp axe out of his backpack, gripping it in his right hand, hidden behind the long crossbow box.
Then he continued toward the pickup, his steps steady and his expression calm.
“Hey!” the man leaning against the door called out first, cigarette between his fingers as he tilted his head and sized him up. “This your truck?”
Luke Li did not answer. He stopped three steps away from them.
“Got a lot of stuff in this truck, kid.” The second man straightened from the truck bed, a smirk on his face. “Water, lumber, gasoline... What are you preparing for? The end of the world?”
Both men laughed, their eyes carrying a natural contempt.
Luke Li watched their buffs.
The red [Hostility] remained stable, but the second man’s [Tension] was growing stronger. That reaction was telling.
Hesitation meant this guy was not truly tough. He was only pretending, all bark and no bite.
The real danger was the first man.
“Move away from my truck. I’m not in the mood to hurt anyone right now.”
The first man flicked his cigarette butt onto the ground, crushed it under his shoe, then pulled a folding knife from behind his waist and snapped it open with a click.
“Big mouth for a nobody. Leave the goods and hand over the keys, or I’ll cut the tendons in your hands.”
The [Hostility] above his head shifted from red to dark red.
[Violent Tendencies - Active]
Luke Li’s mind raced.
The other man had a knife. Three steps away. Luke Li had an axe, hidden behind the box, and they did not know he was armed.
The second man’s [Tension] was flashing wildly. He was about to back down.
Take down the first one, and the second would most likely run.
At least, that was how it usually went on TV.
Luke Li pushed the crossbow box forward as if handing it over.
The knife-wielding man instinctively lowered his head to look.
He never expected the axe to swing out from behind the box.
Luke Li did not aim for his head. His target was the knife hand.
The back of the camp axe struck the man’s wrist with precision. The folding knife flew from his hand and bounced twice across the asphalt.
The man screamed, clutching his wrist as he stumbled back.
Luke Li stepped forward and rested the axe blade against the side of his neck.
The whole exchange took less than two seconds.
[Bladed Weapons Skill EXP +30]
[Bladed Weapons Skill: Lv.1 → Lv.2]
He felt that familiar sensation of memory being written into him. The angle of force in his arm, the arc of the axe, his judgment of distance, all of it became extremely clear, as if carved deep into his muscles.
Just as Luke Li expected.
The second man ran.
Without the slightest hesitation, he sold out his partner and bolted.
The restrained man’s face turned deathly pale. His wrist hung at an unnatural angle, and his eyes were locked on the axe blade beside his neck.
The buffs above his head changed rapidly. [Hostility] faded, while [Fear] and [Pain] flared up like light bulbs.
“Don’t kill me... I’ve got a seventy-year-old grandma...”
“Get lost.”
Luke Li could not be bothered to waste time on him. The apocalypse would deal with people like this soon enough.
The man scrambled away, clutching his wrist, and disappeared around the corner.
Luke Li put away the axe and scanned the area. There were no other witnesses in the parking lot.
He opened the truck door, got in, and started the engine.
The combat rush brought by adrenaline faded quickly.
This was his first real violent conflict since transmigrating.
He had won cleanly and decisively.
The difference in information provided by the emotional readings above their heads had allowed him to make the right judgment in an instant.
This buff monitoring was a true “Eye of God.”
The pickup returned to the road, and Luke Li glanced at the system panel.
The mission progress bar had already passed A-Rank and was moving toward S-Rank. The crossbow and bolts had given his total supplies a real qualitative boost.
But he was still a little short.
He looked at the medicine and crossbow box in the back seat, then checked the fuel gauge. More than half a tank remained.
On the way back to the motel, he stopped at another gas station and bought two more cases of bottled water and every lighter they had left. The cashier scanned everything in a fluster, with [Anxiety] glowing above her head.
She had just taken a phone call. It seemed her family was urging her to come home early.
Something terrible had happened at a neighbor’s house.
Uncle Berg had injured his eldest son.
“The news says something happened in Atlanta too,” she muttered under her breath.
Luke Li did not respond.
Back at the motel, he shut and locked the door.
He organized everything he had bought today. Another nearly eight hundred dollars had gone onto his credit cards.
His dollars were almost spent.
Then a golden notification popped up on the system panel.
[Apocalypse Preparation Mission. Progress has reached S (Legendary)!]
[Rewards will be distributed once the Apocalypse Countdown reaches zero.]
[Please prepare yourself, Host.]
S-Rank rewards.
He had done it.
The rewards would only be issued once the apocalypse officially began: 10 attribute points, an all-purpose beginner gift pack, 3 random blueprint boxes, and that unknown “???”
Ten attribute points, if allocated properly, would be enough to raise him from an ordinary person to near-professional level.
Luke Li leaned against the headboard and closed his eyes.
Outside the window, sirens were becoming more frequent. On the TV, the news had begun showing captions advising residents to “reduce unnecessary travel.”
His phone received an emergency alert from the local government, saying that a certain area had been temporarily locked down due to a “public health incident.”
The cracks of the crisis were widening.
By this time tomorrow, those cracks would become an abyss.
[Apocalypse Countdown: 36:11:44]
Thirty six hours.
He opened his eyes and looked at the cold blue glow of the countdown on the ceiling.
The preparation phase was over.
...
Chapter 5: The Apocalypse Arrives, Hidden Rewards Issued
At three in the morning, a scream rang out outside the motel.
A woman’s scream. Sharp, piercing, like fingernails scraping across glass. It lasted about five or six seconds, then stopped abruptly.
Luke Li sprang out of bed, the Glock 17 already in his hand.
He pressed himself against the side of the window and looked out through the gaps between the wooden planks.
The parking lot lights were still on, casting an orange glow over the empty asphalt.
The Waffle House sign was still flashing, but there was no one in sight, and nothing looked out of place.
But that scream had been far too real.
He waited for three minutes. Outside, everything fell silent again.
In the corner of the system panel:
[Apocalypse Countdown: 29:44:18]
Less than thirty hours.
Luke Li did not lie back down. He sat on the edge of the bed, placed the Glock 17 across his knees, and stared at the door until dawn.
At six o’clock, daylight seeped in.
He turned on the TV.
The CNN broadcast made his pupils twitch on instinct.
This time, they were not airing ordinary news. The anchor’s expression was tense, his face visibly frightened, and he was speaking half a beat faster than usual.
“...Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta has been sealed off by the military. At least seventeen medical workers were attacked by ‘patients’ over the past twenty four hours. Three have been confirmed dead, but a military spokesperson has refused to reveal further details. According to eyewitnesses...”
The screen cut to a blurry video filmed on a phone.
A hospital corridor. Flickering lights. A figure in a hospital gown was crouched over something on the floor, moving as if it were gnawing on it raw.
No one would mistake what was happening in that video for a passionate kiss in a romance drama.
The video played for only two seconds before being cut off.
The anchor continued speaking, but now there was an uncontrollable tremor in his voice.
“...The CDC has dispatched an investigation team to Atlanta. Officials are currently classifying the incident as a case of ‘mass psychosis,’ but several infectious disease experts have stated...”
Luke Li turned off the TV.
Mass psychosis.
They were still searching for a reasonable explanation, hiding the real crisis and trying to control public opinion.
By the time they understood what was happening, it would already be too late.
Luke Li began his final preparations.
He checked every weapon.
The Glock 17, full magazine, one round already chambered.
The Glock 19, his backup, tucked behind his waist.
The Remington 870, loaded with five rounds of buckshot, placed beside the passenger seat of the pickup.
The crossbow would stay in its case for now. Cocking it took time, so it was not suitable for emergencies.
The fire axe hung at his waist, and the hunting knife was strapped to his calf.
The pickup’s gas tank was full. The two spare fuel cans were tied down, and the truck bed was covered with a waterproof tarp and secured with rope.
Fully armed. Everything in order.
Plan set.
He loaded every remaining supply in the motel room into the truck, checked out, and tossed the key at the front desk.
At nine in the morning, the pickup drove out of Kingsland.
There were several times more cars on the highway than in the previous two days. Most of them were heading south, and judging from their direction, they were all leaving Atlanta.
Some cars had their back seats stuffed with luggage and bedding. Others had mattresses tied to their roofs.
The residents were not stupid. They might not know exactly what had happened, but hiding out in the countryside was never a bad choice.
Luke Li was also driving south, but his destination was different.
He needed to find a secluded farmhouse, far from the highway and the crowds. Ideally, it would have a wall or fence and be suitable for short term defense. Once the initial chaos passed, he would move northwest and find Rick’s camp.
After driving for about forty minutes, he spotted his target beside a side road.
It was an isolated farmhouse, a two story wooden structure surrounded by wide cornfields and pine forest.
The nearest neighbor was half a mile away.
A wooden fence circled the yard. The gate stood open, and there were no cars inside. Not even half a person in sight.
Luke Li drove the pickup into the yard, turned off the engine, and got out.
Holding the fire axe, he slowly approached the front door.
When he pushed it open, the hinges came loose from their mounts with a clatter.
The inside was dim, and the air was full of dust. The living room was not large. An old sofa, an old television, and a family photo on the wall, showing an elderly couple and their two grown children.
He cleared the rooms one by one.
Kitchen, bedrooms, bathroom, second floor. All empty.
The homeowners were gone. Maybe they had gone to stay with relatives in town, or maybe they had already fled south.
Luke Li let out a breath.
The house was not great. A wooden structure was not as sturdy as brick or stone. Fortunately, there were few windows, only the front and back doors, so there were fewer points to defend.
The surrounding view was also open. If walkers approached, he would see them before they got close.
He started moving supplies.
Everything in the pickup bed was carried into the house. He nailed wooden planks over all the first floor windows, then fixed barbed wire to the outside of the front and back doors with nails.
By the time he finished, Luke Li’s shirt was soaked through with sweat, and his arms had started to ache.
[Stamina Skill EXP +15]
The system prompt appeared at the perfect time.
It took Luke Li nearly three hours to finish the basic defenses.
He did not use the materials he had brought with him. Instead, he made use of what was already there. He had no intention of wasting resources on a temporary shelter.
Still, the place was solid enough. At least it could block scattered walkers without much trouble.
If a horde came, then he would have to run.
Forget this house. Even the prison Rick’s group would later count on was not enough to hold forever.
At two in the afternoon, Luke Li sat by the second floor window, chewing on a strip of beef jerky while watching the distant highway.
Cars were still passing, though traffic was lighter than it had been in the morning. One car had stopped by the roadside, its hood open and white smoke billowing out.
The owner stood beside it, making a phone call with an anxious look on his face.
At the far end of the highway, to the north, a column of black smoke was rising from behind the horizon, as if some large building were burning.
That direction led to Waycross, a small town with a population of more than ten thousand.
After the apocalypse broke out, there would be more than ten thousand... walkers there.
Luke Li stared at the column of black smoke for ten seconds, then swallowed the beef jerky.
Then he lowered his head and looked at the system panel.
[Apocalypse Countdown: 03:22:09]
Three hours.
The countdown had gone from double digits to single digits, and the numbers seemed to tick even faster.
He went downstairs and checked every door and window one last time, then attached the silencer to the Glock 17. It was something he had bought at the last moment from Jim’s gun shop for four hundred dollars, and he had almost forgotten it.
A silencer could not completely erase the sound, but it could reduce a gunshot from “the whole street can hear it” to “the next room can hear it.”
In the silent world of the apocalypse, that thing would be worth ten times more. Even money might not be enough to buy one.
Luke Li sat down on the sofa in the living room.
The fire axe stood to his right, the Glock 17 lay on the coffee table, and the shotgun leaned against the sofa arm.
Outside the window, the sunlight began to slant, shifting from gold to orange red.
He sat there like that for the rest of the day.
The TV signal grew worse and worse. The picture kept flickering and tearing, occasionally bursting into static. In the few moments where the image was clear, the anchor was no longer in the studio. The background had changed to a parking lot, with military Humvees and soldiers visible in the distance.
“...The President has declared a state of emergency in Atlanta and six surrounding counties... The National Guard is deploying... We strongly advise all residents to return home immediately and lock all doors and windows...”
The signal cut out.
The screen turned to static.
Luke Li turned off the TV.
Only the ticking of the old wall clock remained. In his previous life, he would never have dared to stay in a house like this.
It was practically a damn haunted house.
Now, though, it did not feel so bad.
Humans really were adaptable creatures.
[Apocalypse Countdown: 00:05:33]
Five minutes.
[Apocalypse Countdown: 00:03:17]
Three minutes.
The setting sun dyed the cornfields blood red. The black smoke in the distance had multiplied into several columns, and the northern sky was mixed with smoke and dust, murky and filthy.
It looked a little like the world from the opening of the show, when Rick rode a horse onto the highway.
[Apocalypse Countdown: 00:01:00]
One minute.
Luke Li’s fingers tightened around the handle of the fire axe.
[Apocalypse Countdown: 00:00:10]
00:00:05
00:00:03
00:00:02
[Apocalypse Countdown: 00:00:00]
Golden light appeared on the system panel.
[The Apocalypse Has Arrived]
[Apocalypse Preparation Mission Complete! Rating: S (Legendary)]
[Issuing Rewards...]
[Attribute Points ×10]
[All-Purpose Beginner Gift Pack ×1]
[Random Blueprint Box ×3]
[Hidden Reward: System Backpack Expansion +20 Slots]
The hidden reward was backpack expansion.
From 20 slots to 40. Its capacity had doubled outright.
Luke Li took a deep breath. It was good, but he did not have time to slowly inspect the gift pack and blueprint boxes right now.
First came the attribute points. Ten points. Every single one had to be spent where it mattered most.
He opened the attribute panel, stared at the numbers, and began calculating.
What mattered most in the early apocalypse? Staying alive.
And what did staying alive require? Being able to fight walkers. If he could not fight them, then he had to be able to run. His stamina also had to be better than a marathon runner’s.
Strength 5 → 7
[Melee chopping and moving supplies both require Strength. Add two points.]
Agility 5 → 7
[Agility increases reaction speed, making it harder to get grabbed in melee. And if you cannot win, you can still run.]
Constitution 5 → 7
[Improves resistance to injury and recovery speed. Basically, healing while fighting.]
Perception 5 → 7
[Greatly enhances hearing and vision, allowing you to hear movement from farther away.]
Stamina 5 → 7
[For sustained combat and long distance running. A ten kilometer cross country run becomes easy.]
Intelligence 7, Spirit 6, Willpower 6. Leave them alone for now. Those three were not bottlenecks in the early stage.
Charisma 5. Handsome enough at the start, no need to bother.
Luck 3...
He hesitated for a moment. Luck affected looting and critical hits, and 3 really was too low. But in the early stage, every attribute point was for survival. He could not waste them on probability.
Leave it.
[Confirm allocation?]
Confirm.
A wave of warmth spread through his body, as if he had sunk into hot water.
Luke Li could feel the muscle fibers throughout his body subtly reorganizing. His joints became more flexible, his breathing deepened, and every breath drew in a little more air than before.
His heart and lungs had grown stronger too.
He clenched his fists. The increase in strength was something he could feel directly. Before, gripping the fire axe required conscious effort from his arm. Now the axe handle felt at least twenty percent lighter in his hand.
He rolled his neck and heard a faint click from his joints.
With the added points, Luke Li had improved across the board. He had gone from an ordinary person to someone “pretty good in every area.”
He still could not punch out special forces soldiers or kick Navy SEALs around, but it was more than enough to deal with walkers.
Just as Luke Li was about to check the gift pack and blueprint boxes...
A low groan came from outside.
From the sound of it, something was stuck in the other party’s throat, keeping it from forming even a single word.
Luke Li went cold in an instant, and cold sweat broke out across his back.
He knew that sound.
He had heard it for hundreds of hours in the game, and for at least ten seasons in the show.
He walked to the window and looked out through the gaps in the wooden planks.
Under the setting sun, a figure was moving slowly along the edge of the cornfield.
Its left foot stepped normally, while its right leg was bent 180 degrees below the knee, dragging a trail through the dirt.
It wore a plaid shirt and work pants, dressed like a farmer. The details of its face were hard to make out.
Luke Li focused his gaze on the space above the figure’s head.
No emotion buff.
No status buff.
Completely blank.
Nothing at all. Which meant...
That damn thing was not alive.
It reached the wooden fence around the yard and slammed into it. The fence shook, but the thing showed no reaction. It kept pushing forward, body pressed hard against the wood, feet digging holes into the dirt.
Then it seemed to smell something.
Its head suddenly snapped toward the farmhouse, and its gray white eyes rolled in their sockets.
Its mouth opened.
Luke Li took one step back and picked up the fire axe.
The goddamn apocalypse had finally arrived.