Chapter 7："Harmless Corpses: The Safe Dead"

Chen Dao merged from the riverbank, glancing back to see the two football player zombies relentlessly pursuing him. They were closing in fast. Gritting his teeth, Chen Dao braced himself and urgently dashed into the nearby thicket filled with tangled underbrush and trees. The dense, overgrown foliage was perfect for slowing zombies and obstructing their pursuit.

As he pushed through the tree branches, Chen Dao looked back briefly. The thick vegetation obscured his view, blocking out sight of the zombies; all he saw was a green blur. But when he turned around, he found himself face-to-face with a horde of zombies milling about in the parking lot behind a clothing store.

They had heard the noise he made while crashing through the foliage and were now all staring right at him.

"Fuck!" Chen Dao swore under his breath. All he wanted was a cigarette, but now he was in deeper trouble.

Glancing back towards the trees, Chen Dao thought about retreating to the riverbank, but the flash of a red football jersey caught his eye.

"Persistent bastards!" he muttered.

Angry and desperate, Chen Dao swung his machete, cleaving one of the running football player zombies in the head, popping out one of its eyes. His blow didn't take the zombie down, and it kept pressing forward, scraping against branches and bushes.

Seeing the horde starting to spill towards him, Chen Dao had no choice but to run westward along the foliage, hoping to avoid being surrounded. His stamina was nearly depleted. Who knew that a quest for cigarettes would end up driving him all the way to the northwest side of Riverside?

Running past a construction site and through another patch of trees, Chen Dao finally reached a quiet spot along the riverbank. He was alone. The zombies trailing him had disappeared.

Collapsing onto a bench by the river, Chen Dao gasped for air, scanning the area for lurking threats while he fished a plastic water bottle from his backpack. He gulped down some water, trying to regain his energy.

Chen Dao hadn't a clue where he had ended up. This area was devoid of zombies, with shaded spots offering some respite from the searing midday sun. His thoughts kept returning to the day's mishaps, driving his blood pressure up.

His mounting frustration was partly due to nicotine withdrawal, his dependency severely limiting his stamina. He needed to find cigarettes fast—this "Smoker" trait was truly insufferable.

Finding a shaded spot, he sat down, opened a peach can with the opener, and gulped down the sugary water along with the fruit inside. The warmth in his belly eased some of his fatigue.

Swishing water from the bottle to rinse his mouth, Chen Dao felt a bit better. Yet reality pressed heavily on him—unexpected events could happen anytime, especially with his "Unlucky" trait, making this chaotic journey even harder.

In games, the Luck stat hardly mattered, only impacting item spawn rates or probabilities. "More Traits" mods only slightly altered other traits' probabilities. But now, real-life felt fraught with misfortune at every turn.

First, a shattered glass on the villa's second floor injured his foot, then a neighboring house turned out to be a bizarre party with no useful resources. Lastly, running into a horde of zombies in unexpected places escalated his troubles.

In truth, his bad luck was only part of the problem.

He had managed to find a military-grade M9 silenced pistol without encountering massive zombie hordes, and he had avoided severe injuries in countless zombie skirmishes—a fortune, indeed. Despite treacherous encounters, he remained unharmed by the zombies.

Rested enough, Chen Dao began to study his surroundings, seeking landmarks. He noticed a concrete dead-end road amid the grass. As he approached it, he stepped onto the road's edge and was stunned by what lay around him.

The police station, the gas station, and the distinct red and yellow walls of the Spiffo's fast-food chain… he had run all the way across town to its western edge.

Feeling bewildered, Chen Dao scanned the area. It was open, with many construction sites marking it as a development zone.

The police station had some 20 zombies milling around the entrance. The gas station appeared relatively clear, but Spiffo's was swarming with zombies, completely surrounded.

Why so many zombies around Spiffo's?

Chen Dao observed the scene. The grocery store front was clogged with zombies, some wandering aimlessly, others donning mismatched uniforms—a green postal service outfit here, a tuxedo there—clearly not Spiffo's employees.

One wore an orange-furred raccoon mascot suit, Spiffo's official character. The mascot was originally designed to give players tips in the game and appeared when mods malfunctioned. Now, it was a useless, blinded zombie trapped in its heavy costume, unable to harm anyone.

Chen Dao saw no sign of survivors. Perhaps zombies had chased a survivor here, either devouring them or causing them to flee. The zombies stared inward at Spiffo's entrance, their attention focused inward.

Looking towards the gas station convenience store, Chen Dao hoped to find cigarettes there. Despite the dozen zombies at the police station's entrance, he saw a possible route to the convenience store.

He resolved to check the gas station. The store's shelves should have cigarettes.

Drinking the last of his water bottle, Chen Dao steeled himself. His hands trembled slightly from excitement and lingering fear.

Observing the police station zombies, only two appeared burly enough to potentially be runners. Deciding to tackle the zombies in smaller groups, he approached the station cautiously.

Leaving the concrete road, Chen Dao slipped into the station's parking lot, noting a police car and a forest ranger's pickup truck parked there. Circling to the back, he peeked into the truck's cargo bed, finding it empty.

Looping around the parking lot, Chen Dao hoped to clear out the zombies first.

A loner zombie, gnawing on its own hand by the station's wall, grabbed his attention. The area beside the police station was open, grassland offering clear visibility—ideal for isolating and dealing with zombies.

Chen Dao crept closer to the zombie, noting it hadn't sensed him. The creature preoccupied itself gnawing on its detached hand, oblivious to Chen Dao's presence.

Stretching his neck, Chen Dao observed the 23 zombies near the station's entrance, mentally counting: his limit.

Again, quietly but firmly, Chen Dao called out, "Hey!"

Half the zombies turned toward him, attracted by his voice. Success. Using the open grassland to his advantage, Chen Dao aimed to lure the zombies in small batches.

He repeated his call with varying volumes, attracting the immediate attention of another half the zombies. Testing his skills further, he successfully segregated the zombies into manageable groups, avoiding their attention.

In Riverside Entertainment, he had been in an enclosed space, misjudging the call's volume. Here, the open grassland worked to his benefit, allowing tactical division of the zombies.

None of the approaching zombies were runners, making Chen Dao's task easier. Luring them into the grassland, he prepared to dispatch them.

Shambling zombies were manageable. By leveraging positioning and stamina, Chen Dao methodically finished off the slow-moving zombies. After clearing several small batches, he returned to the station.

He repeated his strategy, gradually thinning the zombies. The summer sun accelerated decomposition, ensuring the bodies would rot swiftly.

A thorough search of the dispatched zombies turned up one useful item—an old lighter in a hippie's jeans pocket. No other valuables.

Three zombies remained: the police officer and two lumberjack-clad zombies. Hesitating briefly, Chen Dao opted for careful progression.

Softly calling out again, his efforts initially went unnoticed. Increasing his volume slightly, he eventually attracted the lumberjacks' attention. Surprisingly, they were both runners.

As they barreled towards him, Chen Dao firmly grasped his khukuri machete, prepared to handle them in the spacious grassland.

Tripping one zombie and slashing the other, Chen Dao efficiently subdued the runners, ensuring the area was clear.

Relieved, he approached the police station entrance, scanning the road for threats from Spiffo's. Confidently, he considered testing his firearm skills.

Pulling out his silenced M9, loaded with subsonic rounds, Chen Dao aimed at the police zombie. Remembering the aiming techniques from the game, he lined up the sights on his target.

The gun was heavy and wobbled in his grip. Chen Dao froze, steadying his breath.

"Ping—click—," his shot was nearly silent, the subsonic round making only a faint noise. Despite its quietness, he missed the target.

Examining his progress, he realized he had gained 6 aiming experience points from the shot—much more efficient than the 1.5 points he gained per unit of time from merely aiming.

Recognizing the value of actual shooting practice, Chen Dao knew conserving valuable subsonic rounds was crucial. He holstered the gun, noting the need for a proper holster.

Approaching the police zombie, he readied his machete. With one swift strike, he cleaved its head in two before it could react.

Finally, Chen Dao reached the prone survivor, identifying the mini Alice pack—the well-known military-grade backpack. The body, missing its lower half and surrounded by gnawed bones, revealed a white woman's face under a riding helmet.

This explained the unharmed upper body despite the gruesome injuries. The mystery deepened—why hadn't she turned into a zombie?

In the game, only certain extreme measures prevented zombification. Self-poisoning, gunshots to the head, or extensive pre-mortem disinfection were necessary to avoid reanimation.

But this woman, seemingly consumed alive, hadn't turned. It defied established game's logic and even real-world expectations.

Chen Dao gently removed the woman's helmet and saw her agonized, unseeing gaze. Her eyes were wide open, her once-golden hair framing a face locked in a final grimace of pain. She seemed to have been conscious during the brutal mauling that took her lower half.

Trying to feel some semblance of human decency in this unforgiving world, Chen Dao closed her eyes. He then focused on the military-grade ALICE backpack. Unstrapping and removing it, he closely examined its contents. Apart from a few lightweight clothes and personal items, he found half a bottle of water.

She must have been desperate for food and put on this extensive gear to venture out in search. The realization made Chen Dao feel a pang of pity.

Continuing his search, he found only a few more items in her pockets. Her vest pocket contained a lighter, and to his surprise, she wore nothing beneath her jacket.