WARNING: UNUSUALLY LONG CHAPTER (4K Words)
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AROUND TWO MONTHS AGO.
"Fuck!" Ogoro said, rushing down the stairs of a building.
"Shut up and run!" Sheyla answered.
"I'm already running!"
Zombies were chasing them, albeit slowly, but they didn't notice it because of the confusion upon their arrival.
They rapidly found the emergency exit leading to the outside, opened it, closed it, and barred it with whatever they could find.
"What were those things?" Ogoro asked.
Sheyla ignored him and scanned the area for a potential threat. The exit had led them to a back alley, in between two buildings, filled with trashes, some of them currently barring the door.
She trotted down the end of the alley and found what appeared to be a major street. The problem was…
"Are those… zombies?" Ogoro asked, before being blinded by notifications.
BING!
[Access to status window granted]
[Ogoro Ryu]
[I. General Info]
Death: March 15th, 2030
Specie: Human
Sex: Male
Age: 30
Height: 200cm
Weight: 95kg
Emotional state: Anxious
Class: Lv0 (Undecided)
Titles: Red Challenger
[II. Attributes]
1. Gifts:
- Acute fifth sense (Enhanced touch)
- Body blessed (Boost Body by 1 level)
- Strength blessed (Boost Strength by 1 level)
- Stamina blessed (Boost Stamina by 1 level)
2. Skills: None
[III. Basic stats]
- Strength: Lv2
- Body: Lv2
- Stamina: Lv2
- Agility: Lv1
- Mana: Lv1
- Destiny: Lv2 (cannot level up with Glory Points)
—————————————
[Sheyla Ryu]
[I. General Info]
Death: March 15th, 2030
Specie: Human
Sex: Female
Age: 26
Height: 170cm
Weight: 55kg
Emotional state: Overjoyed
Class: Lv0 (Undecided)
Titles: Red Challenger
[II. Attributes]
1. Gifts:
- Acute first sense (Enhanced sight)
- Agility blessed (Boost agility by 1 level)
- Thrill of the hunt (Slightly increases reaction time and the speed at which the host perceives the surroundings. Boost agility by 1 level. Activates upon extreme concentration)
2. Skills: None
[III. Basic stats]
- Strength: Lv1
- Body: Lv1
- Stamina: Lv1
- Agility: Lv2
- Mana: Lv1
- Destiny: Lv3 (cannot level up with Glory Points)
—————————————
Sheyla rapidly read through the status window. Or at least she tried. Her enhanced sight zoomed in on each letter and gave her a headache.
Then she closed her eyes and leaned against a nearby wall, wanting for the pain to disappear. Upon opening her eyes, her vision had returned to normal.
Her gaze shifted to the right to see her brother as stiff as a frozen street light. She giggled beautifully, despite the somewhat macabre environment. It was already a miracle that the zombies hadn't spotted them already.
"Just wish it away." She said.
Ogoro did as she said, and the discomfort left. "Urg, thanks. I felt like thousands of ants were crawling on my skin."
She didn't reply and looked aside at the zombies. Ogoro didn't take offense. He already knew his sister was a silent one which could sometimes be mistaken for being a tsundere. Since his family adopted her, or just as far as he could recall, she never talked much and stuck to one brief sentence every time. Rarely two sentences. However, she would be willing to speak more if it involved work.
"Now what?" Ogoro said, and quickly got the answer he was looking for.
BING!
————————
[Tutorial quest received: Zombieland!]
Quest: Survive two months in a modern city filled with zombies.
Enemies: Zombies (Mindless monsters who move very slowly. They are sensitive to sound but have poor vision. Beware, after one month, special zombies will appear.)
Difficulty: Hard
Rewards:
- Access to the 2nd trial
- Glorious points according to your performance
- Tutorial points according to your performance
————————
"What the—"
BING!
[Access to inventory granted]
Inventory: Empty
"Inventory? Hey Sheyla, you got that notification too? This is so—" Ogoro said, before his sister dragged him to the side.
She placed her hand on his mouth and signaled for him to stay silent. Then Sheyla grabbed a piece of broken concrete on the ground, took aim, and broke the window of a distant car, which obviously triggered an alarm.
The few zombies roaming the street turned their heads toward the sound of it and doddered towards it. Sheyla waited for them to pass by and walked out of the alley to a nearby convenience store, signaling Ogoro to follow her.
The bull of a man stood dazed for a minute before quickly catching up to her.
Before entering the store, Sheyla stayed at the entrance and looked for potential danger. Nothing.
Upon entering, she first headed behind the counter, thinking that if that city was originally populated by humans, they must have had human habits. Therefore...
Ogoro perused the shelves, looking for something to eat, and came across chips in pristine condition. In fact, everything stored on the shelves was brand new, as if no apocalypse happened prior to today. Now that he thought about it, the cars, roads, and streets were clean. At least as clean as a city could get.
He grabbed the chips bag, making slight noises in the process, but before he could open it, Sheyla's head popped out from under the counter.
She glared at him.
He glared at her.
She stared dagger at him.
He stored back the chips and held his hands up as if to say, "Okay, I got it. No sound."
Sheyla went back under the counter and, a few moments later finally found what she was looking for but didn't expect.
She settled five bolts and a simple-looking wooden crossbow on the counter, thinking, why would a shop owner choose that weapon to repel potential robbers.
Meanwhile, Ogoro took a look at the book section to find books of all genres and magazines. He happened upon an adult magazine that he, feeling lucky, swiftly hid in his suit's inner pocket. Then, before his sister eyed him, he grabbed a random document and pretended to read it.
Sheyla walked up to him, crossbow in hand, and stood on her toes to look at what the giant was reading. Her eyes sparkled as she patted her brother on the shoulder to congratulate him, then swiftly grabbed the item.
Ogoro stood incredulous, before realizing Sheyla was reading a map. The map he had "found."
Sheyla rapidly analyzed the map and found out their location. They were at the center of the city, close to the city hall and, luck had it, next to a police station.
She showed it to her brother, who immediately understood her intention.
Before leaving, still unaware of the uses of the inventory, they grabbed a backpack and stuffed it with canned food.
Ogoro noticed the crossbow and another peculiarity. He then sent Sheyla a quizzical gaze, pointing out the bolts buried in between her breasts.
She responded with a shrug which translated to, "It's more practical."
***
The siblings stood in front of the police station's three-meter-tall steel gates surrounded by thick concrete walls with barbed wire on top.
The way to the station hadn't been an easy one. Dozens of zombies had stood in their way, and they had to be patient to safely get past them. Fortunately, those zombies seemed to have poor eyesight.
Ogoro took position by the gate, ready to give Sheyla a lift. His sister took three steps back and bolted towards him.
Ogoro's eyes almost popped out from their sockets when he saw the unusual speed at which she was coming at him.
Sheyla instantly noticed the issue but didn't stop. She stepped on his broad shoulders and jumped; the momentum bringing her higher than intended.
She passed the gate and carried out an emergency landing. Upon touching the ground, her knees bent with perfect timing before she rolled, redirecting the brunt of the impact onto the earth.
Roadside, Ogoro was silently applauding his sister, who once again ignored him. He then jumped, grabbed the top of the gate, and pulled himself up, surprised at how easy it was. He then let himself fall, his knees easily absorbing the shock.
He stood dazed for a moment, surprised at his new strength, before heading to the front door, where Sheyla awaited him.
Once inside, they stopped at the front desk, eyeing suspiciously the corridor leading to the staircase and offices.
Sheyla loaded her crossbow, while Ogoro took out a can of red beans from the backpack and awaited her signal.
She aimed and nodded. The can flew by her, hit a wall at the center of the corridor, creating a resounding sound amplified by the confined space.
Then they waited for a response.
5 seconds.
Ogoro rolled his shoulders, warming up his muscles.
10 seconds.
Sheyla slowly breathed in and out, sharpening her senses.
15 seconds.
BAM!
Six zombies dressed in policeman uniforms bashed the offices' doors open, heading towards the can's point of impact.
Sheyla pressed the trigger, propelling the bolt which spun, pierced through the air, and… missed, hitting a doorknob.
Five zombies headed for the knob, but the one Sheyla had targeted previously turned towards them.
Ogoro stepped in front of Sheyla, who was pondering.
The zombie doddered faster and uttered what sounded like a mix of wailing and crying.
"Wyaaah!"
The other zombies halted, turned around, and reeled their way, progressively speeding up.
Ogoro's high kick struck the nearest zombie, sending it crashing against the corridor's wall.
'Hum, badly crafted,' Sheyla thought, mentally reviewing her shot. 'Unbalanced. A slight deviation to the right.'
Still "alive", the zombie tried to stand, but a black leathered mocassin pressed its skull to rotten meat paste.
Sheyla reloaded, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The bolt brushed past Ogoro's arm and ended its flight in the approaching zombie's head.
Unfazed by the bolt, as if it was a common occurrence, Ogoro front-kicked the unlucky zombie coming at him, shoving it against its peers.
He smiled. "Here we are, back again. Killing stuff."
"After the fight, Goro." She said, implying that they should clean the building before chatting.
"Sure."
***
Having cleaned up the three stories building, the siblings finally stood in front of the most interesting place of a police station during a zombie apocalypse: the arms vault.
Sheyla unlocked the steel-plated door with the access card they had found in one of the offices and Ogoro pushed it to reveal a treasure trove of… medieval weapons.
"Hey… where are the guns?"
To the left, the weapon racks were filled with European and Asian swords. On the opposite side were displayed bows and crossbows as well as ammunitions. In between them, wooden armor stands storing complete sets of armors perfectly separated the room into two sections.
Intrigued, Sheyla looked at the concrete walls. 'Reinforced concrete. About 30 to 50 cm thick. No doubt. It is a modern arms vault.'
She then thought back to the crossbow she had found in the convenience store. "Goro. I think modern weapons are replaced by medieval ones."
"No shit?" He said, realizing that she had just made a long sentence.
"All of them."
"Ah…" He paused, troubled by the thought. "But why? We are in a modern city, goddamn it. Or should I say, gods damn it now?"
Sheyla eyed him, seemingly unamused.
Ogoro coughed his way out of it and, aware that they wouldn't find an answer to that question, headed for the swords. He noticed each rack was separated by country.
"French. English. German. Japanese! My favorite, although not necessarily the best. But heck I like the design."
Sheyla watched Ogoro joyfully draw a katana out of its plain black sheath. Its blade reflected the room's pale light on her brother's scarred face. She smiled, seeing his cheerful face and recalling their previous life as assassins.
The dreaded house of assassins, the Ryu family, had started Ogoro's training at a tender age. "Leaving no margin for error" was their unwritten rule. Therefore, their members were forced to master as many combat techniques as possible to adapt more quickly to an unforeseen crisis, by using whatever they could find in the surroundings if no actual firearms were at their disposal.
In this line of work, firearms sometimes drew too much attention, and assassination required discretion a gun couldn't offer without a silencer. Even then, it still made sounds.
By the age of 12, Ogoro had mastered closed combat. At 18 he could use a vast palet of close quarter weapons and a few ranged ones. By the age of 20, he had memorized the entire human anatomy and could brutally torture a human while keeping him alive for weeks. Now, at 30 years old, he could probably be considered one of the most deadly humans on Earth. Or could have been, since he was technically dead there.
"Not bad," he said, examining the katana. "Not as good as my Honjo Masamune, but that will do. What? Why are you shaking your head? Don't tell me you're still lingering on that dog bastard of a thief's death."
Sheyla shook her head, thinking back to when an angry Ogoro had found the man who had kept the legendary sword hidden instead of giving it back to its rightful country.
Ogoro clicked his tongue, "I knew it. Barf! Arm yourself instead of shaking your head. Then let's get out of here. You know small enclosed spaces make me feel uncomfortable."
***
At night, on the third floor of the police station, in the chief's office, Ogoro was leaning against an opened window frame, a cigarette in hand. Outside, the deads roamed the streets, voicing out strange noises which, strangely, had lulled Sheyla to sleep.
Taking a puff, Ogoro turned towards his sister, sleeping soundly on a couch. He had never seen her fall asleep so fast, nor her sleeping face looking so serene despite being surrounded by zombies. However, he understood the reason.
He had met Sheyla when he had been 7 years old. His father had brought a poor-looking 3 years old girl to their house, telling him she would be his sister.
The Ryu family's tradition dictated for each of their children to partner up with an adopted child. The first reason being the limitation of what a single human could learn.
The second reason was to supposedly avoid future traumas caused by their partner's death. They thought that if they weren't blood-related, the bonds between them would be weaker. Although that had been proven to be wrong, they still maintained the tradition.
Sheyla had learned tactics, politics, seduction, and a bunch of other stuff considered useful for blending in any kind of environment. On top of that, she had also been trained in the arts of combat. But what she excelled at was marksmanship. Sheyla could shoot a moving target located one kilometer away if given the right tools and rarely ever missed.
The siblings' previous life could be summarized by three words: train, obey, and kill.
With no other choice but to obey the family they had felt shackled, choked, and miserable. Ogoro's black hair had turned grey from the weight of the human lives he had taken. He had tried to mask his misery behind jokes and laughs but it sometimes could feel forced. With time he had grown accustomed to the killing. He still did not like it, but wouldn't bat an eye if he had to do it.
The same couldn't be said for his sister. Although she kept a straight face, Sheyla had her fair share of suffering from the victims visiting her every dream. Pleading and imploring to remove her finger from the trigger. Ogoro had had to lend her his shoulder every night so that she could sleep. Even then, her body would sometimes shake uncontrollably to awake a crying Sheyla with a face distorted by grief.
But now…
"Finally…" Ogoro whispered, taking a puff while looking at the full moon shining brightly amidst the boundless night sky's myriad of stars.
"Now we are free."
***
1st week of survival.
The siblings found out about the inventory and quickly put it to good use by storing all kinds of items they might need later on.
They also fixed twenty as the minimum number of zombies they would kill every day.
Taking advantage of the stupidity of those creatures, they cleaned up the surrounding buildings, stores, and housings.
Slowly, but surely, they started establishing a relatively safe zone.
2nd week of survival.
They realized that zombies aimlessly roamed the streets, meaning with no apparent goal. If they encountered an obstacle on their way, they would simply turn back or, if there were a way, bypass it.
Sheyla quickly came up with the idea to use cars to block the roads leading to the police station.
However, there were three problems. First, the alarms. They couldn't simply break a window for fear of attracting zombies. Although they were few in numbers, it was a hassle to deal with a group of them.
Second, the engine. The noise it might produce could attract their enemies.
Third, the zombies themselves.
For the two first problems, Sheyla could just lock pick the doors and drive the car as Ogoro pushed it.
The final issue was solved by using another car's alarm to attract the zombies away from the sibling's "construction site."
4th week of survival.
The streets, buildings, and housings surrounding the police station were unusually empty. At first, Sheyla thought it was because they had killed them all, but felt that something was wrong.
Trusting in her gut feeling, Sheyla and Ogoro prepared Molotov cocktails. Ogoro had unwillingly given up the bottles he had hidden since they needed as many of those flammable drinks as possible.
And, before the end of the week arrived, the siblings added a few other things to their defenses.
***
ONE MONTH AFTER THEIR ARRIVAL.
Ogoro stood at the center of the parking lot, in between the gates and the front door, fully dressed in a shiny knight's armor. His opened visor revealing eyes of an abyssal color, inducing fear to whoever would peer into them.
Gone was the jovial man who firmed his metal grip on a Zweihander. Instead, a giant emanating a murderous aura stood in his place.
As a Japanese, Ogoro could have chosen a samurai armor but found it lacking compared to European medieval ones who offered better protections and were less flashy if the fact that the polished steel which reflected sunlight wasn't taken into account.
He also had preferred to pick a Zweihander instead of the katana because of its longer reach and durability. He was certain to face multiple opponents and a weapon breaking mid-fight was the last thing he needed. Even if he quickly switched to a new one using his inventory it wasn't practical.
Sheyla surveyed the area from the rooftop, her blue eyes zooming into the distance. During this past month, she had learned to use her gift [acute first sense] which no longer inflicted her with headaches unless she used it for an extended period of time.
Her black leather armor squeaked as she turned right to inspect the western street. With no enemies in sight, she doubled checked her grey compound bow for the tenth time.
She then made a clockwise quarter turn and opened her inventory with a thought.
BING!
A blue window filled with dozens of miniature square boxes showed up in front of her. Each box could contain up to ninety identical items, and, currently, half of them comprised arrows.
Sheyla touched the screen, materialized an arrow, turned her head towards the street, and drew her bowstring—the bow's pulley system it wasn't as hard as a common recurve bow. In the same motion, she closed the inventory to clear her field of vision.
Aiming west, east, and north sides, she switched in between them when a black dot appeared on the northern horizon. The dot became a small line, which progressively morphed into moving figures.
Sheyla stared at them and zoomed in to reveal a group of zombies approaching at a slightly faster pace than usual.
Ogoro turned towards her, and she lifted five, "fifty."
He nodded and closed his visor.
Sheyla withdrew her arrow and waited.
'One kilometer.'
'900 meters.'
'800.'
'700.'
She sighed, thinking that they were too slow. A compound bow had a maximum range of 300 meters, therefore shooting now would only result in a waste of arrows. So she decided to pass the time by watching her brother performing sword flourishes to warm up.
'Show off,' she thought. 'Hum, 500 meters.'
'400.'
'350.'
She slowly nocked the arrow on her bowstring. Took a deep breath.
'330.'
Drew the bow.
'320.'
Aimed high.
'310.'
The string rapidly brushed past her cheek, firing an arrow to open hostilities.
'305.'
The arrow spun and traveled upward. Its trajectory then curved under gravity as it plunged towards its target.
'300.'
BAM!
The zombie fell, an arrow stuck in the head and its corpse soon to be stepped upon by its peers.
Sheyla grinned maliciously, a glint of madness reflecting in her eyes as she released arrows after arrows at a moderate cadence.
Her inventory regularly closed and opened as she fired arrows in succession, only missing a few times. The mental gymnastic between opening the inventory, grabbing an arrow, closing the inventory, aiming, and shooting required extreme concentration and had taken Sheyla two weeks of training. Even then, she could only keep this up for a minute.
From the parking lot, Ogoro gawked at the zombies falling one after another under his sister's attacks.
He knew Sheyla had been practicing every day, but he never thought that the result would be so deadly. Even if she had two levels of agility, this was just too much.
Sheyla's attacks died down as the zombies neared the gate. She had already done her job and her brother wanted to test his mettle against a group of zombies. Those data could be crucial later if they were to fight off hundreds of those creatures—though, they hoped they wouldn't have to deal with so many of them.
The latter slid the gate open and walked out by using the small gap between two vehicles blocking the entrance.
He settled his weapon against a car trunk, pulled out a recurve bow from his inventory, as well as a quiver, and shot at the remaining zombies, who were down to around half of their initial numbers.
Ogoro couldn't be as accurate as Sheyla since marksmanship wasn't his area of expertise, but he was far from being bad at it. Fifty meters was close enough for him to be more or less certain of hitting the target.
His armor gave off a metallic click with each released arrow. He took down a dozen of them before retreating behind the defensive line—grabbing his sword on the way.
When the first zombie entered the gap in between the cars, he used his Zweihander and decapitated his enemy in a single slash.
He inhaled, positioned one hand on the sword's handle, the other on the blade. He exhaled before unleashing his deadly arts, switching between half swording and common grip.
Head, arms, and legs. Even the air wailed under Ogoro's murderous blade, in perfect sync with his body. Corpses piled up to the point of forming a small wall impeding the enemies' movement.
Ogoro's attacks were so fluid that he appeared to be dancing rather than fighting. His ever-moving sword, piercing, slashing, and dicing, left no time for his enemies to surround him.
Then…
"Ah!" Sheyla screamed, her body disappearing from Ogoro's vision.
A black zombie was forcing her shoulders to the ground with its toned arms. It opened its mouth, revealing rows of sharp fangs and a whip-like tongue. Sheyla frown, disgusted by the putrid stench and summoned an arrow that she lodged into the creature's ribs.
It wailed in pain despite being an undead and quickly backed off. The black zombie then placed both its arms on the ground and circled its prey.
Sheyla aimed for its head and released. The creature swiftly dodged aside before leaping towards her. But she had been waiting for that window of opportunity. In a fluid motion, she nocked an arrow, pulled and shot the airborne zombie.
BAM!
It dropped to the ground, shaking from the arrow tip stuck in its cerebral cortex, and died.
Just in case, Sheyla lodged another arrow in its skull. Certain that it was deader than dead, she turned back her attention to the front gate to see Ogoro dispatching the last of the remaining zombies.
She waved at him to show she was okay and walked away to join him downstairs, bringing along the black zombie's corpse with the intention to examine it with her brother.
In the parking lot, Ogoro took off his helmet, revealing his drenched face, and sat on a car trunk, then lit a cigarette.
"Ah….." He sighed, "bloody day."
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