First Entry

Kirk felt his eyelids grow heavy. He had binged the American TV show The Walking Dead all night and only drifted off into a dazed sleep past five in the morning.

Sunlight shone on his face, a little too bright, and Kirk was not pleased.

"Mom, why'd you open the curtains again? I'm skipping breakfast today," he yelled.

There was a moment of quiet, and Kirk licked his lips contentedly, ready to drift back into sweet slumber.

But what greeted him was not his mother's affectionate caress, but a heavy kick to the most vulnerable spot just below his ribs. The pain made Kirk's mouth fly open, his tongue lolling out as he let out a muffled "Ah, ah," unable to speak.

"What the hell, who is it? You wanna die!" The searing pain quickly chased away his sleepiness. Gritting his teeth, he opened his eyes.

A pair of American combat boots were planted on his face, making it hard for Kirk to breathe.

Kirk was a bit confused. Shouldn't I be sleeping in my own bed? Yesterday was Friday, so today should be Saturday, a day for sleeping in comfortably, a day for...

But the big foot lifted again and stomped down hard once more! Kirk's face was assaulted again, the back of his head hitting the wall. Blood happily streamed from his nostrils. Finally, he let out a miserable scream. "Don't hit me! My family will pay! We can talk this out, big brother! I'll cooperate actively, turn over a new leaf, and become a new person!"

"**! Get up, now! Next time, I'll kick your shit out of your mouth!" a white man with European features roared.

Damn it, who is this! Kirk scrambled to his feet and glared at the other man.

The European before him was a one-armed man, 190 centimeters tall, as strong as a Mighty Lion, and had large feet. (Kirk thought: Damn it, can we not mention this?) Most striking was that the man's right arm was severed at the wrist, replaced by a sharp, gleaming wrist blade.

"This looks like Merle Dixon!" Kirk thought frantically. "Could it be that I've watched too much of the American show The Walking Dead, and my dreams are reflecting my thoughts? This dream is really unlucky."

However, soon, a punch to the face from the white man brought Kirk back to reality, confirming he wasn't dreaming.

"Why are you hitting me?" Kirk yelled, clutching his face. He thought, "Damn, don't hit the face, my handsome face."

"Why am I hitting you?" Merle grunted, his evil expression unchanged.

"For no reason, other than I just pulled your ass out of a zombie horde and saved your little butt." Merle pressed his rough face against Kirk's, then suddenly yelled hysterically.

"Pretty boy, so what if I hit you?"

Kirk stumbled back against the wall in panic. Merle was a typical villain in the show, and a timid shut-in like Kirk was naturally terrified.

"Hmph, I knew you were a coward," Merle spat contemptuously. "I don't know what I was thinking, saving a piece of trash like you!"

Kirk was indignant. How dare he insult him! Just as he was about to explode, Merle thrust a sharp knife down!

Kirk screamed in terror, "Don't kill me! I don't have money."

The tip of the knife plunged directly into the concrete wall next to Kirk's cheek. The cold touch of the blade sent goosebumps crawling all over Kirk.

Merle maintained his nonchalant demeanor, patted Kirk's face with satisfaction, released the knife handle with his left hand, and dropped a sentence.

"This is your weapon. Come with me."

Kirk steadied himself, strained to pull the dagger from the wall, and followed Merle without a word, his mind racing to figure out what had happened.

Just then, a cold, computer-generated voice sounded in Kirk's head.

[Trialist No. 4444 has entered the TWD-01 (The Walking Dead) scene.]
[Timeline synchronization complete.]
[Trialist No. 4444, this is your first time entering the space. Do you require a beginner's guide? Yes/No.]

"Damn, did I get sucked into a Nightmare Space like in Final Evolution? Am I about to get rich?" Kirk quickly selected "Yes."

The cold electronic voice sounded again.

[You are a newcomer, having just entered the space. This is your beginner's trial. Cherish this trial opportunity, as it is crucial to determining whether you can survive and for how long.]

[Your personal attributes are now:]

[Strength 3 (5) -- Determines melee damage, total carrying capacity, and factors for judging weapons and armor.]
[Agility 3 (5) -- Determines ranged damage, running and walking speed, and dodge chance.]
[Stamina 3 (5) -- Determines total HP, physical resistance, and status effect resistance.]
[Intelligence 6 (5) -- Determines total energy, elemental resistance, and other factors.]
[Wisdom 5 (5) -- Determines mastery of magic/immortal arts/special abilities, and affinity for magic/immortal arts/special abilities.]
[Charisma 2 (5) -- Determines the attitude of story characters towards you and indirectly influences the plot.]

[The values in parentheses represent the normal range for a 25-year-old Earth human male.]
[Abilities brought from the real world: None.]
[After a comprehensive evaluation by the space, your overall strength rating is D- (normal value for a 25-year-old man is C).]

Stunned for a long time, Kirk finally exploded: "This is a rip-off! I spent a semester learning Sanda in college just to look cool and pick up girls, didn't I? I ran for a whole month to lose weight, didn't I? Don't other people enter the space with innate abilities or full sets of spiritual treasures? Am I a piece of trash who's become supreme? At least I'm known as a handsome and refined young gentleman, my Charisma can't be this pathetic, can it? Can it?"

Recalling the seemingly subtle yet undeniably cold rejection from his college crush, Kirk, a pathetic loser, felt tears welling up and his heart bleeding at his abysmal Charisma...

The space ignored Kirk's hysterics and stated coldly and emotionlessly: "[This is a fair value based on your physical condition and intelligence. Do you wish to view the information for this trial scene?]"

After cursing for a while, Kirk knew he hadn't exercised much and didn't have the basic conditions for high attributes. He weakly replied, "Yes."

Then, a set of data appeared in his mind.

[Beginner Trial Scene: TWD-01 (The Walking Dead 01).]
[Scene Nature: [Free Scene] [Movie Scene].]

Scene Difficulty: [Novice Trial Difficulty].

Location: United States, Georgia, outskirts of Atlanta City.

Personal Attribute Adjustment: Novice Trial, attribute enhancement 50%. After adjustment for Contractor #4444:

Strength 4(3) Agility 4(3) Stamina 4(3) Intelligence 9(6) Wisdom 7(5) Charisma 3(2) (Numbers in parentheses are original novice values, already enhanced and adjusted.)

Pain Weakening: 80%.

Main Quest: Survive. All you need to do is survive for 7 days in this hell of The Walking Dead!

Based on your ability evaluation and this Novice Trial scenario, the trial ground's suggestion for you is: Find a way to stay alive.

"This suggestion is total garbage," Kirk thought. "This is bad. The main quest is survival, which means victory is simply staying alive. The difficulty seems pretty high."

As he was thinking this, he bumped into Mori's solid back.

Kirk shouted, "I didn't mean to get all buddy-buddy!"

Mori glared fiercely. "Make another sound and I'll kill you!"

Kirk focused his gaze and gasped.

Before them lay a scene of hell on earth.

A long, endless convoy of cars was jammed on the highway exit, while the entrance direction was empty, not a single car in sight. But the bustling scene of traffic was gone; everything was silent.

Inside the cars were dead bodies everywhere, blood, and dismembered limbs.

Mori led Kirk, walking stealthily through the long line of vehicles.

Kirk's heart pounded with fear. Zombie dramas were his favorite, and Resident Evil was his top pick. But he never imagined seeing so many dead bodies would scare him this much. This hellish scene was beyond anything a major production could depict.

Inside a Hyundai SUV, a family of four lay dead. The man was sprawled on his back, his throat torn open. The woman was holding two children in the back seat, huddled together. Looking at the man, the corpse had already begun to rot. His lifeless eyes bulged like dead fish, the cloudy whites filling his entire sockets.

Flocks of large crows circled in the sky, occasionally flying down to tear at the corpses, snatching pieces of rotten flesh. These crows had glossy black feathers, were as large as small eagles, and their eyes were blood-red. It was clear they had grown fat on dead flesh. Their drill-like black beaks dripped with foul blood, and their sharp talons were stained with human flesh scraps.

Mori's expression was grim. He crouched low, walking ahead, and looked back, making a threatening shushing gesture, then a throat-slitting gesture. The meaning was clear: "Be quiet, or I'll kill you!"

As a veteran otaku who had watched the entire series of The Walking Dead, Kirk naturally knew the importance of silent movement. He nodded and tiptoed behind Mori.

Now, in this environment reeking of death, looking at Mori, the villain he both hated and feared, Kirk began to feel a sense of purpose.

Was this the instinct of a weakling clinging to a strong back, or did he have a hidden talent for it?

Kirk thought wryly.

The two slowly walked past abandoned vehicles, watching crows pick and choose from the corpses. A wave of sorrow washed over Kirk.

Is this the future of humanity?

Mori shot Kirk a cold glance. Kirk jolted and began to pretend to scout the surroundings.

The two walked further and further among the cars and piles of bodies.