Chapter 8: Note

I wasn't particularly fond of the rebar club; more often than not, I found myself abandoning it in favor of using my fists. They proved to be swifter and more effective against the agile ratmen that infested the museum in great numbers. While lone ratmen were a rarity, encountering them in groups of three or more became the norm. Nevertheless, I managed to score a few kills as I traversed the museum, swiftly dispatching any ratmen that crossed my path.

Despite the lack of human activity within the museum, my perseverance eventually paid off. After hours of searching and sneaking around, I stumbled upon a conspicuous piece of paper resting on the counter of the gift shop. It immediately caught my attention, standing out amidst the desolation that surrounded it. Curiosity piqued, I approached the counter to examine the mysterious paper to read what's on it.

{I hope this message finds you safe amidst the chaos. It's been a week since the bombs fell, and the city we once called home is now uninhabitable. Our group made the tough call to leave, facing scarce resources and dangerous radiation levels we have chosen to head to the nearby town as it was far away from the blast and we believe they would more than likely be the safest place as the rats and animals have been getting more and more dangerous}

The message allowed me to sigh in relief at not finding Tony here but that did not mean I planned to leave the museum to go search for as I still needed to level up to stabilize my existence and now that I had a moment to think how the hell was I supposed to explain this to Tony without getting murder by his group and him as their clearly not stupid enough to trust a moving skeleton.

With that idea firmly planted in my mind, I embarked on a relentless crusade against the ratmen infesting the museum. Freed from the constraints of sleep, hunger, and fatigue thanks to my undead state, I dedicated every waking moment to hunting down the vile creatures. It seemed that my transformation into undead had bestowed upon me a resilience that made mental exhaustion a distant concern.

Day and night began to blend together as my sense of time seemingly also took a nose dive as 2 weeks of pure hunting passed without me even relizing it as I drove hand through the chest of a ratmen who was sleeping causing the sweet sound I've grown so used to to ring in my ear.

[Tier .5 creature killed: 10 exp]

[level up]

[2 stat points]

[all stats improved by .5]

Reaching level 5 marked a significant milestone in my growth, but my progress had begun to plateau in recent days. The ratmen, emboldened by their increasing numbers, now gathered in larger and more formidable groups, posing a formidable challenge to my abilities. Facing eight of them at once was daunting enough; contending with twenty or more seemed nearly insurmountable.

As the ratmen engaged in what I could only describe as a "World War Rat," vying for dominance and leadership within their ranks, I realized that remaining in the museum had become untenable. The looming threat of their united aggression, coupled with their escalating infighting, left me with little choice but to abandon my current surroundings.

Reluctantly, I made the decision to leave the museum behind and instead find another hunting ground.

-/-/-/-/-/

[Name: Brook. D .Newport]

[Race: Undead]

[Species: unstable Skeleton]

[Class: none](Reach level 10 to receive a class)

[Rank: 0]

[Level: 5](0/500)

[Health: 4/4]

[Mana points: 4/4]

[Stat points: 0]

[Strength: 8]

[Endurance: 4]

[Agility: 8]

[Wisdom: 4]

[Intelligence: 4]

[skills: none]

[Note: Almost there keep up the good work]

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