A Fresh Start

With his unusual breakfast done, Lucas left his house, now needing to buy more rice since his supply was running low. Since his boat was missing, he had to use the backdoor, the only way connected to solid ground. The front door was off-limits without his boat.

Once outside, he followed the usual path to get to the market. But after about ten minutes, he stopped. "That's odd," he said to himself, noticing there were no other people around since he stepped out. Confusion wrinkled his forehead. "Huh...?"

It didn't take long for Lucas's confusion to ease a bit as he spotted another person nearby. He considered approaching this person to ask about the strange system he had encountered. Coming closer, he called out, "Uncle, can I ask you something?"

The man's stooped posture hinted at being way older, especially from a teenage perspective, where practically everyone else seemed to be on the older side. The sound of Lucas's voice made the man turn his head, revealing a face that shocked Lucas to his core. The uncle's face was covered in blood, one eye grotesquely sticking out, and the other side of his face torn, exposing white bone.

"AHH!" Lucas recoiled, his horror and shock freezing him for a moment. But then instinct kicked in, and he sprinted back to his house, casting fearful glances over his shoulder. The uncle followed, but his movements were slow compared to Lucas' frantic dash.

Running as fast as he could, Lucas kept his eyes on his house in the distance. As he reached the threshold, he pushed through the door, hastily locking it. The impact of his retreat echoed with a resounding "BAM!"

As the door shut, cutting off the view of the nightmarish figure, Lucas pressed his back against it, exhaling a shaky breath. With the image no longer in direct sight, he strained his mind to recall every disturbing detail he had just witnessed. The blood-streaked face, the contorted limbs, and the vacant, lifeless eyes haunted his thoughts.

Back inside, Lucas could only quiver, the encounter leaving its mark. He sank onto the wooden floor, thoughts racing through his mind. Suddenly, recognition struck, "That face... wasn't that the vegetable lady's husband?"

In the semi-darkness of his house, all he could do mentally replay the unsettling scene, each horrifying detail etching itself into his memory even if he didn't want to. His mind kept replaying that scene to him.

He found himself frozen in fear, unable to do anything but stand there. "What in the world is that!?" His young eyes had never seen such gruesome injuries.

"Considering the severity of that injury, that man should be dead by now, and yet..."

Even during the tragedy of his parents' accident, he was shielded from the sight of their mangled bodies due to his tender age, though the memories had faded over time. His previous encounters with death were confined to fish and insects, leaving him completely unprepared for the horrifying scene unraveling before him.

As he kept thinking about the creepy scene before him, his mind struggled with the unbelievable truth that unfolded in front of his eyes. "Could it be what I think it is?" he mumbled in disbelief, his voice barely audibles above the deafening silence that enveloped the once peaceful surroundings.

His gaze stayed on the door, the horrifying sight of exposed bone that kept haunting his mind, a revelation that sent shivers down his spine. The realization dawned upon him like a relentless storm, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

The weight of his discovery bore down on him. The more he thought about it, the more his thoughts seemed more believable, manifesting in a shaky whisper that escaped his lips. "A walking dead person?"

The words hung in the air, heavy with disbelief and a hint of fear.

A solitary drop of sweat traced a path down his forehead, a physical manifestation of the mental turmoil that gripped him. The gravity of the situation sank in, and he realized that he was standing at the edge of an unimaginable reality. "Is that... a... zombie?" he questioned, his voice revealing a mix of horror and disbelief.

Lucas stood frozen for a moment, his mind racing to process the eerie scene he had witnessed. The bloodied face, the unnaturally twisted limbs—every detail seemed to align with the horrifying image of a creature he had only encountered in fictional tales.

As the unsettling reality sank in, Lucas felt a chill crawl down his spine. The concept of a zombie, once confined to the realm of movies and games, now stood behind his door, bringing with it a wave of fear and disbelief. He blinked several times, as if hoping the image in his mind would change, but the gruesome truth remained.

A bead of sweat trickled down Lucas's face as he considered the implications of this nightmarish encounter. "This can't be real," he whispered to himself, attempting to convince his disbelieving mind. 

The realization dawned on him, and a mix of fear and determination flickered in his eyes. "If it truly is a zombie," he muttered with a newfound resolve, "I can't ignore it forever." Despite the growing unease in his gut, Lucas knew he had to confront this macabre reality that had invaded his once-ordinary life.

Gathering his courage, Lucas slowly retreated from the backdoor, his eyes never leaving the ominous figure on the other side.

Despite his worry and dislike, he recognized the inevitability of dealing with the situation. His teenage world, once protected from the tough parts of adulthood, now demanded that he face a foe straight out of his worst nightmares.

"THUM! THUM!" The door behind him shook, and the seriousness of his situation became chillingly clear.

Lucas, still recovering from his previous shaking, felt another wave of fear at the thought of facing the zombie – a once-human being. Quickly, he ran to the kitchen, got a knife, put it back, and then rushed to his bedroom to get a baseball bat.

Shaking and filled with anxiety, the boy stood before the backdoor of his house, holding the baseball bat tightly, desperately seeking safety.

"Click… Click." The door lock seemed to open on its own, and Lucas stared at the door in shock. He could sense the forceful pounding of the zombie outside.

Just then, a chilling cry shattered the air, "Whoosh!" The door lock gave way, and with another loud hit, the zombie forced its way inside.

Fearful sweat trickled down Lucas's face. In a heart-pounding moment, he swung the baseball bat down with all his might as soon as he saw the approaching zombie.

"Bang!" The baseball bat hit the creature's head. The zombie barely fought back, just staggering back slightly under the force of the hit. Lucas relentlessly hit the zombie again and again until it collapsed, lifeless – as if it even had a bit of life left in it.

With the lifeless zombie sprawled before him, Lucas kneeled down, his hand shaking as he looked at the shattered remains of the creature's head, blood mixing with residue. In a frenzy, he continued to hit the already broken skull until a voice echoed in his mind.

---

[Level 1 Zombie Killed, Awarding 50 Exp!]

[Leveling Exp Reach: 50/50!]

[Leveling Up: Level 2!]

[Receiving 2 Stat Points and 1 Skill Point!]

---

"Zombie? Huh..." Lucas groaned, closing the door after dealing with the undead intruder. Still bewildered, and a bit upset, his gaze shifted to the shattered zombie parts scattered on the floor.

Surveying the mess, Lucas let out a heavy sigh. "Today is just not going well for me," he muttered, fatigued. While cleaning up the blood and brain bits, he tossed everything, including the lifeless body, into the already murky lake inhabited by those weird fish.

'Do zombies even know how to swim?' he wondered, thinking about how weird everything was. Getting ready for a shower, he decided to take a nap, even though he usually didn't. The zombie encounter had drained him.

Tired or just worn out, as his head hit the pillow, he fell into a deep sleep.

***

"Ugh..." Lucas groaned, waking up with his eyes still cloudy from sleep. Yawning, he shook off the sleepiness.

Staring out the window, Lucas let his eyes soak in the sunlight. The warmth felt good on his skin, and he looked at the houses in the distance.

Checking the time—5:34 p.m.—he realized he had no idea how long he'd slept, but it did help calm his nerves. The shaking he felt before had calmed down a bit.

Thinking about the system and how both humans and zombies could level up, Lucas understood that staying in his house was safe, but hiding forever would lead to problems—starvation, getting caught by a big fish, or being attacked by a bunch of hungry zombies he couldn't handle.

Another sigh escaped him. Even though he was only 16, the day's stress made him feel much older.

Grabbing the backpack that he rarely used, a gift from his employer when he was 14, he packed what he thought he needed. Looking at the stuff, he realized he didn't need much if he was going to face zombies—they gave better rewards than the fish he usually caught.

Wondering about the fish in the lake and their strange behavior, he thought he might not survive long enough to understand the world's changes.

Packing carefully, Lucas checked his items. "Flashlight, pen, paper, phone, power bank, charger, spear, and baseball bat..." Not a lot, but the phone was a must, connecting him to the old world.

He noticed, though, that the electricity, internet, and calls stopped working since the morning blackout.

With everything ready, Lucas put all the items away, keeping the spear, his trusted weapon. Looking at his phone again, it was 6:09 p.m. Another sigh, the same uneasy feeling. He looked at the bedroom window, the moon a reassuring sight.

Back in his room, he looked around, sighing again. Getting ready for a big cleanup, he also looked for things that might be useful outside his home.

Finally done, he went to bed at 10:10 p.m., tired from the day's events. The bag and spear were next to him. Ignoring the broken lock on his backdoor, he didn't think about how it could be easily pushed open, letting in strangers or zombies.

***

January 22, 2029

Morning sunlight gently filled the room, bathing a young teen in its warmth as he prepared for the challenges of the day. Quickly dressed, he threw his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his reliable spear before turning the backdoor handle.

With a cautious yet determined spirit, he opened the door, scanning the surroundings to ensure no monstrous threats lurked. Stepping outside, he moved a few paces from the house and turned to face it.

His eyes focused on the familiar backdoor, and he bowed his head, silently expressing gratitude etched across his features.

He didn't see himself as a chosen hero or the protagonist of some grand tale, nor did he think he was a divinely favored child. His aspirations were simpler – to live, to embrace the life his parents had given him.

With his back to the door, he bowed once more, a silent thank you to the house that had sheltered him since birth.

In this Southeast Asian land, a prevailing belief held that each dwelling had a house spirit, a benevolent protector against malevolent forces. While not inherently religious, the boy respected this tradition.

The house had been his sanctuary through life's challenges, and now it stood as the threshold from which he stepped into a crisis of unprecedented proportions – a challenge with uncertain outcomes.

The boy performed three reverent bows – one for his parents, another for the guardian of his dwelling, and the last for the land and lake beneath his abode, providers of life and sustenance.

Finishing these gestures of gratitude, Lucas turned away from his house and purposefully walked toward the village market.

Even though it might be the most bustling and crowded place in his village, the market held what he needed most urgently now, sustenance, a lifeline amid the chaos.