The Town

The Maserati sped madly down the empty, desolate highway. Mori grinned thinly and said, "Idiot kid, not bad," before retracting the Viper. Kirk's hand throbbed painfully. He's using me and then discarding me, he thought, but could only obediently comply.

Mori then ignored him, and Kirk began to secretly assess his recent gains. A blood-red spatial imprint now marked his chest, a ferocious red ghost head. He'd seen many like it before and was no stranger to infinite flow stories, so he handled these matters with practiced ease.

He peered inward at the imprint and saw a one-cubic-meter storage space. Inside, there was only a white key, and it also displayed his current survival points: 117. Newbies started with 100 survival points, plus the 17 walkers he'd just killed. He took out the white key, and a prompt asked if he wished to open the treasure chest now. He chose yes.

Then, a white chest materialized from the space. A flash of golden light flickered, and a golden ring actually appeared!

"Holy crap, my luck is finally kicking in! A white key opened a golden item! This is what a protagonist gets!" Kirk cried tears of joy, fantasizing about his overwhelming aura erupting and treasures flocking to him.

Unfortunately, he rejoiced too soon. When he took it, he saw it wasn't a golden ring, but a brass ring! Its stats were Stamina +1.

"It's still good, equivalent to a 25% Stamina increase," Kirk sighed, trying to comfort himself. He put it on his right middle finger. Fortunately, he knew the principle of not flaunting wealth. He found a pair of leather gloves in the car and put them on, which would also offer some protection against walker bites and their disgusting fluids.

"Where are we going?" Kirk couldn't help but ask.

Mori pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and blew a smoke ring towards Kirk. It choked Kirk, making him cough, before Mori wickedly chuckled, "I don't know. Do you have a plan? Handsome?"

Kirk's mind began to race as he recalled the plot.

Undoubtedly, his most crucial task now was to survive in this damned world. That sounded easy enough, right? The simplest way was to drive around, as the walkers couldn't drive and chase them.

However, Kirk believed that if anyone tried to fool the space by just running around, the space would likely toy with their life.

Survival missions were the hardest. As long as you stayed alive, the mission was complete, with no punishment. This meant a large amount of unpredictable risk, and evasion was the greatest risk.

Your car would run out of gas, right? Finding gas was dangerous.

You had to sleep at night, right? Hordes of walkers would attack you.

You couldn't stop eating, right? Finding food was dangerous.

Kirk summarized that the two biggest problems he faced in survival were resources, including but not limited to food, clean water, clothing, and tents; and safety, requiring firearms, ammunition, a safe shelter, a powerful team, and so on. All of these needed to be collected or plundered.

Compared to the two, firearms and ammunition were more important. Kirk looked at the dagger Mori had "kindly" gifted him: a plain dagger, unable to be brought out of the scenario, dealing 5 damage, valued at 1 survival point.

Killing walkers with just this would cost him countless lives.

Kirk wasn't sure if, as a contractor, he would turn into a walker like ordinary people if bitten. But he didn't want to test it. Having a gun in this scenario was paramount.

Where were the nearest guns in Atlanta?

Kirk racked his brain, arriving at only one conclusion: the police station in the protagonist Rick's hometown. American police stations had armories containing police rifles, riot shotguns, high-powered handguns, and police body armor. His survival ability would be guaranteed.

"Let's go to Rick's town. He has an armory there. We need guns and bullets," Kirk told Mori.

Mori blew a smoke ring, a look of satisfaction on his face. "Now that sounds like a man's words, kid. If you had said like a woman that you wanted to find a place to hide, I would have kicked you out of the car to fend for yourself."

Kirk broke out in a cold sweat. It seemed there was a hidden compatibility factor within the scenario. Plot characters acted according to the space's arrangements, but more often, they made their own judgments. This was Mori's opportunity to observe and test him. If Kirk and Mori's compatibility was poor, Mori would eventually abandon Kirk. Fortunately, he had chosen correctly this time.

The Maserati roared into Rick's town. It was a typical East Coast American suburban town, quiet and leisurely, lush and shaded with trees everywhere. The only disharmony was the original inhabitants wandering aimlessly on the roads.

The Maserati screeched as it slammed into a walker. Mori and Kirk got out. "I'm sorry!" Mori offered a dark joke to the walker he'd hit, then pulled out the Viper and unleashed a barrage of gunfire.

Kirk finally witnessed Mori's formidable combat prowess. He shot walkers in the head and, up close, plunged his right wrist blade directly into their skulls, either through the bone or the mouth. He killed them one by one, quickly. However, it was broad daylight, and the walkers weren't very active. There weren't many walkers around either, so Kirk believed Mori couldn't perform feats like Zhao Zilong at Changban Slope, fighting his way through a horde.

The two began to explore the police station as quickly as possible. It wasn't a large station, more like a suburban precinct, similar to the police sub-stations around Kirk's residential community.

Thus, they quickly found the armory. Mori kicked the door open and rushed in, gun raised.

Kirk, the supporting player, followed closely behind.

But the inside was empty. The metal shelves were bare except for hooks. Scattered around were some empty bullet casings.

Mori shot Kirk an annoyed glance. Kirk sheepishly said, "Looks like someone already took everything..."

"Rick must have been here," Mori said, his face darkening. "He's the deputy sheriff. Of course, he knew what was here. Let's go."

As they left the police station, Kirk suddenly remembered something. The protagonist Rick's house was nearby, and there might still be some good items left inside. They should search it.

He mentioned it to Mori, who agreed. The two headed towards Rick's house.

Rick's house was already in disarray. After Mori took down two uninvited guests, Kirk seized the opportunity to finish them off, gaining survival points.

Then, the two began to ransack the place. Kirk saw Rick's family photo and secretly pocketed it. Besides a handgun and 20 rounds of ammunition that Rick had hidden, they found nothing else.

"We're wasting our time. We have to leave now," Mori said, kicking a table with great force, making a loud noise.

Rick, one of the culprits responsible for his lost right hand, was an object of Mori's intense hatred. His willingness to come here might have been partly driven by the idea of finding Rick's weaknesses to exploit.

Kirk understood. As they left, Mori took out a lighter, lit another cigarette, took a puff, and then threw the lighter into Rick's house.

Rick's house was made of wood. The fire quickly spread, flames raging fiercely.

"Let's go, we still need to find more firearms," Mori said gloomily.

"I have another plan," Kirk suddenly had an idea.

"I'm starting to like you, idiot kid. Speak!" Mori blew a smoke ring.

"I know where Rick hid the guns from the police station?" Kirk said excitedly. "At a crossroads in Atlanta."

Mori fell silent. After the great catastrophe, Atlanta had become the most dangerous place, swarming with countless walkers. Once inside and discovered, escape would be a mere luxury. It was rumored that an elite heavy armored unit from the US had met its end in Atlanta; their defensive line had fallen, and soldiers had died in droves.

Kirk also knew that going to Atlanta carried immense risk, so he hesitated. He only spoke up because he had just received a notification from the space.

"Attention all newbie trial contractors: the 12-hour protection period is about to expire. Tonight, the walkers will undergo their first large-scale evolution and mutation. Their health and speed will increase by 10%, and their sense of smell, hearing, and sight will be enhanced. The scenario difficulty will increase from C- to C. During the 7-day duration of this newbie trial mission, walker evolution and mutation will occur every 48 hours, each accompanied by an increase in scenario difficulty. Correspondingly, contractor reward bonuses will also increase. Contractors, please make all necessary preparations."

It was now approaching dusk, and the first day was nearing its end. This mission required survival for 7 days. According to Kirk's calculations, with walkers evolving every 48 hours, he would have to endure at least three more walker evolutions, and the difficulty would increase three times, reaching B-class difficulty! Imagine, he was just a newcomer with a D-class rating. How difficult would survival become in a B-class difficulty world! Based on this evolution, the walkers would be faster, stronger, and more adept at finding hidden humans. If he only tried to evade, death would be the only outcome. Power comes from the barrel of a gun; having guns and bullets was the hard truth.

"Damn it!" Kirk gritted his teeth, cursing The Space. "Is this still a newbie trial? Can't you give us a break?"

As a plot character, Mori clearly felt the encroaching danger and nodded in agreement with Kirk's risky plan.

The two were silent on the highway, knowing the journey ahead was extremely dangerous. Kirk was also pushed into a corner. Although he was timid and afraid of trouble, he wouldn't just sit and wait for death when it was time to take a risk. Since he knew The Space was merciless, he had to force himself to act.

Mori handed Rick's police handgun to Kirk and briefly taught him the precautions for using it. Handguns have short barrels, making them easy to carry and especially suitable for shooting at sudden targets at close range, thus making them ideal for close combat. After Mori's simple training, Kirk realized how pathetic his previous shooting had been. First, one needs to master aiming; second, maintain a steady sight alignment; third, grasp the timing of the shot; and fourth, maintain a calm mindset.

As Kirk was listening, a prompt suddenly came from The Space:

"You have received the [Basic Small Arms Mastery] skill transfer from plot character Mori. The skill level of the other party is Level 6, your skill level is Level 0. The success rate of the transfer is 98.6%."

"Your [Basic Small Arms Mastery] has been upgraded to Level 1. Current proficiency is 17/200. It will automatically upgrade upon reaching the proficiency cap."

[Basic Small Arms Mastery]: Enhances mastery of handguns, large-caliber handguns, and submachine pistols, increasing damage by 5% and shooting accuracy by 5%.

In The Space, skills primarily serve an auxiliary role; the individual is the key factor. For instance, firearm skills assist shooting and improve accuracy, but do not directly increase hit rate. To illustrate, if a sharpshooter intentionally fired into the air above an opponent, they wouldn't hit them. Skill mastery merely makes aiming easier, making it more likely to hit the opponent.

Kirk rejoiced inwardly, the heroic images of protagonists hitting every shot with cool precision flashing in his mind again. Thus, he pestered Mori with various firearm-related questions. Kirk gained no further insights even after Mori finally lost his temper and yelled at him. It seemed that plot characters' skill transfers were related to favorability, compatibility, and skill levels in a complex way. Mori transferring this skill to him was predicated on compatibility, but also to gain his cover during gunfights, so this useless newbie wouldn't completely drag them down.

However, Kirk was already content. After all, there were still seven days left. Mori was now the source of all coolness in his eyes. Kirk's affectionate gaze made Mori, who was used to threatening others, feel uneasy. He thought it best to keep his distance from this guy who seemed to have a tendency towards "Back Mountain."