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Shut-In Of The 'Dead'

Bronze WINNER of WPC#322: Male Lead: Zombie Invasion Takemi Kazuichi might very well be the luckiest and unluckiest person in the world. He was an orphan, and he was severely bullied in school. Because of that, he became a hikikomori, a shut-in. When he turned sixteen, he was adopted by a rich couple who loved him as if he was their own son. Unfortunately, they died in a plane crash, and Kazuichi never overcame his bad habits of being a shut-in, largely because of his preying relatives. Fast forward to four years later, Takemi Kazuichi still stayed in the house left by his late parents. He never bothered going to work or going out to socialize with people. For the lack of a better term, he was a rich hikikomori. He never even bothered to check the news or log in on any social media. All he did was live his life in solitude, devoid of any human interaction. One day, as he came out of the shower, he heard a strange thumping sound by the doorway. "That's weird, I didn't order any delivery today." He told himself before absent-mindedly opening the door. And what stared back didn't resemble a human at all. It was a zombie— or so that's what the first thing that came into Kazuichi's mind. Unbeknownst to him, the world had drastically changed, and he was the last one to know.

DaisukiDayoSenpai · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
347 Chs

Honoring A Friend

With a long, drawn-out sigh, Ryuunosuke's shoulders relaxed, tension flowing out of him like water after a dam had burst. The encounter with the leader of the Mindless Hybrid Army had been intense, but for now, it was over. His eyes scanned the horizon, searching for something familiar—something that called to him beyond the battlefield's chaos. Then he caught it: a faint, lingering scent, a memory on the wind that tugged at his senses.

"This way," he murmured to his team, pointing toward a distant stretch of land shrouded in mist. His voice carried a weight that had not been there before, an unspoken solemnity that urged them to follow without question. The group moved in unison, each step crunching against the gravel and fallen debris, their breaths mingling with the cold air as they walked.