Struggle

"Watch out behind you!" Heming jumped down from the ventilation duct and shouted at the Black woman.

"Bang, bang, bang!" Heming quickly fired his gun, taking down the three zombies near the woman.

"Give me that knife!" Heming moved to the woman's side and demanded the blade in her hand. She understood immediately and handed it over.

Heming grabbed the kitchen knife and charged, hacking the approaching zombies to the ground. To deal with zombies, one had to aim for the head first; if that wasn't possible, then the limbs. Regardless of where he struck, the results were immediate.

This wasn't like the movies where zombies could run, jump, and coordinate attacks. The zombies here were mindless and cold-blooded. They could only detect those with warm, flowing blood, so they only attacked living targets. If you severed their limbs, the zombie would eventually perish.

Heming wasn't fully aware of this yet; his target remained the head. Clearly, having studied the Pitch Black Heart Method, Heming was far more capable at this game than the average person. In just a few moments, all the zombies attacking the woman were dead.

Heming looked at the kitchen knife in his hand. Thankfully, this game didn't have a durability setting, or he would have been in real trouble.

"Wow, you're really something, kid. I'm Sheni, from the United States. I'm a tour guide by trade. If you ever visit the States, I'll show you around for free for a day," the woman said, taking the opportunity to introduce herself.

"Ah, it's nothing. I'm Heming, from China. I'm a clerk. I think we need to find some decent weapons and a map. Do you know where there's a supermarket or a department store?" Heming replied, scanning the surroundings vigilantly.

"A department store? Oh, no, no. I know where there's a weapon shop. I just saw a lot of weapons there—really, a lot. Some I couldn't even name," Sheni said, looking outside.

"Lead the way. We can't keep going like this." Heming quickly reloaded his gun and stepped out of the small room.

Outside, Heming clearly saw a few zombies wandering not far away. If they moved now, they shouldn't be spotted.

"Now's our chance!" Heming and Sheni dashed out. The zombies, unfortunately, saw nothing.

"Right here!" Sheni pointed to the small shop across the way.

It was indeed a weapon shop. Broadswords, spears, daggers—it had everything. Heming even spotted two sets of ancient knight's armor.

"Pick what you can use. Once we're set, we'll head out to find the police station," Heming said to Sheni while eyeing the weapons.

Right, first he needed a dagger—one that could be strapped to his calf. Yes, and one for his left hand, too. Then, a primary weapon for direct combat. A katana would do; among these weapons, the katana was the one he was most familiar with. Back in that place, the Japanese man had used one to train him.

Sheni grabbed a dagger and then chose a small machete—the perfect size for her.

"Ready? Let's find a small group to clear out, then keep moving downward!" Heming said, watching the few zombies slowly approaching outside.

Sheni touched her machete and said, "No problem!"

The katana was truly the most satisfying weapon for cutting down enemies. One slash, one zombie; they didn't stand a chance. Heming had just finished off the first few when a dozen more appeared behind them.

If only he had chosen the elevator earlier. Sighing, Heming had opted for the stairs for safety, never expecting to be swarmed before they even made it down a few floors.

"There seem to be more and more. We have to fight our way down, don't just stand here!" Heming analyzed the situation. If they could successfully fight their way out, they would find a place to hide until the zombies dispersed.

Heming fought with all his might, and suddenly, the radio crackled to life.

"Hello... hello... this is Rie... Heming, can you hear me?... This is Rie... Heming, can you hear me?..."

But with the sheer number of zombies, Heming couldn't spare a moment to grab the radio. He could only keep hacking away.

"Are you in the middle of a fight?... I'm at the police station now... there are a few survivors here... if possible, I hope you can get here as soon as possible..."

"Be careful... contact me as soon as the fight is over..."

The police station? That was certainly a good place to be; at least there would be enough guns and ammunition.

Fortunately, after Heming and Sheni's desperate struggle, the waves of zombies began to thin out. Neither of them had sustained any injuries, though their stamina was nearly depleted.

"It should be safe here, right? Let's take a break!" Heming and Sheni ducked into a small food shop. Sheni was clearly reaching her limit; after all, she was a woman, and her stamina was far lower than Heming's.

Heming blocked the door with a sturdy shelf and pulled out the radio.

"Hello, hello, this is Heming. Rie, can you hear me? This is Heming, Rie, can you hear me?"

"Heming... Heming... this is Rie, I hear you... where are you located?... where are you located?..."

"I'm trapped inside a high-rise building. All I can say is that there are many different shops inside."

"Please wait a moment while I check the map..."

"There are only three tall buildings in this city, and only one is commercial. You must be there."

"You still have a distance to cover to reach the police station... Yes... If you leave the building now... there is a weapon shop directly across the street... and a travel agency nearby... go to those two places to get some useful supplies, then contact me again... There are already over thirty survivors at the police station... Someone found Zeng and Deng... they are over by the chemical factory..."

"Understood. I'll head out and take a look, then I'll contact you again."

"Right... stay safe... be careful."

"You too..."

Heming put the radio away. It seemed his situation was far more dangerous than Rie's. He was still a dozen floors from the ground; rushing down blindly would be suicide. What to do?

"Heming, why don't we take the ventilation ducts? Then we can exit through the parking garage to the main street. It should be safer," Sheni suggested.

"The ducts are a viable path, but the parking garage is a no-go. If we get surrounded there, we're dead. Maybe we can slowly descend through the ducts and look for other survivors along the way!" Heming was right; the garage was too wide open—getting surrounded there would be fatal.

"Oh, you're so smart. If I hadn't met you, I probably would have been eaten by those wretched things already..." Sheni felt immense gratitude toward Heming. She had no gaming experience whatsoever; she had only entered this place on a whim after a bet with her husband. She had assumed she wouldn't pass the mental screening before entering, but to her surprise, she had passed easily in front of her family. With no way to back out, she had been forced into the game.

"Let's rest a bit longer, then we'll head out. The ventilation duct isn't far from here." Heming glanced at the zombies wandering outside.

Inside the ventilation ducts, Heming and Sheni had already traveled quite a distance. They stopped for a few minutes at every spot where they might encounter survivors, but unfortunately, each time, only zombies came shuffling by.

On the fourth floor, Heming heard a violent mechanical noise. Perhaps it was a survivor's weapon.

"Oh, Heming, don't go down! That thing isn't human!" By the time Sheni shouted, it was too late. Heming had already jumped from the duct. Now, he was face-to-face with a high-level zombie wielding a chainsaw.

"Heming... Heming... this is Rie... this is Rie... a new type of enemy has appeared... these enemies can use weapons to a certain extent... for now, it seems they cannot use firearms... please be careful... their limbs cannot be severed directly... and ordinary firearms have little effect on them... please be careful..."

Damn it, he had run into a troublesome one this time.