Just Another Death in the Unforgiving World

Splash!

Small puddles of murky water erupted as a young man sprinted down the center of a muddy road in the middle of the rainy night.

The young man appeared to be twenty-one years old with short brown hair and a pale complexion. He wore cheap dirty clothes with leather boots and carried a broken wooden table leg that had been sharpened into a wooden spike.

Krshh! Krshh!

A crowd of flesh-rotting corpses pursued not too far behind the young man, albeit very slowly. They were very slow, far from capable of catching up to the young man.

As such, the young man in ragged clothes easily created distance between them.

'Walkers, slow as usual, However…' Desmond Gray thought as he briefly glanced back before refocusing his attention ahead with a solemn look.

More flesh-rotting corpses scattered further down the muddy road all turned their heads toward Desmond's direction, attracted by the noises of his hurried movements.

The moment their dull gazes chanced upon Desmond's figure, their expressions turned malevolent with aggressiveness.

Nevertheless, Desmond Gray remained unfazed by the unwanted yet unconcerned attention.

His eyes darted left and right, searching for a safe route before settling on the long row of messily parked vehicles that eventually led toward an old shopping center.

Without hesitation, Desmond immediately took to the higher ground by leaping onto the hood of the first car ahead, followed by the roof, the second car, the third car, and a truck.

The walkers tried to swipe at his legs but missed, fortunately, thanks to his well-timed leaps.

After leaping over a number of long-abandoned vehicles, Desmond settled on the roof of a taller yellow bus and glanced back at the gathering crowd of fleshing-rotting corpses behind him.

They were all zombies.

However, even among zombies, they were classified into different classes based on their particular traits.

The Walker-class zombies, for example, were slow and stupid, but at the same time, they were really sturdy.

Thus, getting surrounded by a crowd of Walker-class zombies usually ends with one's death.

'I thought I could use the cover of the rain to mask my footsteps and smell to explore the wilderness, but I still ended up attracting the zombies,' Desmond thought with a frown.

Grr!

Listening to a series of low grunts, growls, and snorts in the distance, he eventually concluded that there was nothing wrong with his idea.

He was just unlucky.

Nevertheless, the fact that he made it so far out of the stronghold with such lightly-dressed ragged clothes that offered no protection and just a wooden spike as a weapon was an achievement in and of itself.

'There must have been a Sniffer among the Walkers… Damn Sniffers,' Desmond silently cursed.

Although Sniffer-class zombies had a strong sense of smell, their noses weren't immune to the obstruction of the rain.

'The range of a Sniffer is limited in the rain, but that limited range isn't exactly small either… How troublesome,' Desmond sighed as he glanced at the old shopping center in the distance with regret.

He would have to abandon his plan to search the old shopping center for supplies.

Old shopping centers out in the wilderness were already filled with their own dangers. Thus, the last thing he wanted was to attract even more danger toward it and increase the difficulty of exploring.

'I guess I don't have a choice. I must put the shopping center on hold and lose the Sniffer first,' Desmond quickly decided.

However, a sudden squeal in the distant sky reached his ears, quickly turning his firm expression ugly.

Compared to the zombies around him, the threat from the sky was greater.

'Dammit. My luck can't get any worse on this run,' Desmond cursed before he quickly studied the surrounding buildings.

In the wilderness, all abandoned buildings were dangerous. After all, zombies like to hide in dark places during daylight.

Although it was currently nighttime, entering a potential zombie nest wasn't any less reassuring.

Nevertheless, beggars can't be choosers.

Desmond quickly picked the nearest abandoned house with a closed entrance and made his way over from his present location.

With no time to waste, he quickly climbed the property's fence and threw his body through the glass window.

Ka-cha

The glass window shattered into shards, some cutting into Desmond's flesh.

However, it was the lease of his worry.

Between breaking a glass window and busting down a wooden door he wasn't confident in achieving in a single attempt with his present physique, he knew which one was the better option.

After all, forget about the noises of the two; the window had fewer spaces to cover for barricading.

Caw! Caw!

The large shadow of a bird soon loomed over the area as the gathering crowd of Walkers made their way toward Desmond's building.

However, Desmond paid no heed to the situation outside.

He immediately strained his eyes upon entry to peer into the darkness of the house for danger.

After confirming zero threats, he immediately started barricading the broken window with tables, chairs, and anything he could find, followed by reinforcing the front door.

The Walkers would naturally follow him and aim for the broken window, but there was no telling that such a large crowd outside wouldn't accidentally knock down the door either.

Nevertheless, the metal fence prevented Walkers from stepping foot on the property, but only briefly before giving way under the collective pressure of the mass applied on it.

Caw!

The large shadow of a bird belonged to a giant black crow as the large aerial savage beast descended into the area, snapping up several Walkers in the crowd with its large beak.

At the same time, the surprise attack from the sky also alerted the Walkers as they shifted their attention away from Desmond's building.

Time felt slow as Desmond heard the number of bangs on the property's wall reduced in frequency over a short period.

"I'm saved," Desmond eventually breathed a sigh of relief when the banging completely stopped.

In the wilderness, zombies weren't the only source of danger. There were also savage beasts, mutants, and natural disasters, among many other things, that threatened human life.

As such, Desmond knew he wouldn't survive for long despite overcoming the immediate danger.

"It's been a while since I came so close to an aerial savage beast. They usually avoid flying near the stronghold because they get gunned down… But I was bound to run into one since I'm quite far out, huh?" Desmond muttered in thought.

"Since a giant crow was attracted here, it must have a nest nearby… I hope it has nothing to do with the old shopping center. It would make it impossible to explore. And if I can't explore it, I can't gather supplies and information on it..."

In other words, making money would be difficult.

That said, making money in the wilderness has always been difficult, as shown by how cheaply dressed he was.

The most valuable items on his body were none other than his leather boots, which he naturally bought to protect his feet.

After all, traveling barefoot in a ruined city full of flesh-eating monsters was nothing short of suicide.

"It looks like this is another failed run," Desmond concluded as he glanced at the small wounds on his body.

Without the rain, his blood would eventually attract more zombies.

At the same time, he was also unlikely to find anything to clean and dress his wounds in the abandoned house.

Being situated in the wilderness, the water supply to the house was very likely to be cut off. Even if it weren't, the water source would be contaminated.

His wounds were bound to be infected, and his body would be weakened by sickness, restricting his movements in the wilderness.

After all, he had been soaking in the rain.

"Well, no use crying over spilled milk," Desmond stated as he stood up and studied the interior of the house.

Considering he had entered the premise for some time, his vision had adjusted and allowed him to see better in the darkness.

"Better to explore the rest of this two-story house. If I can secure this place, I could use the household supplies to be better prepared for my venture in the next run," Desmond thought as he tightened the grip on his weapon.

Although the closed entrance implied a higher chance of the house being safe, it was only one side of the property.

Without checking all aspects of the house for potential entrances, he couldn't rule out the possibility of encountering zombies.

"It looks like the first floor is safe. Now for the second."

In a short time, Desmond searched the first floor before making his way upstairs. He did not consider the kitchen tools as viable weapons.

Although kitchen knives were sharp, they lacked weight and force.

Against the durable skin of a Walker-class zombie, a shallow cut would be the best he could achieve with his strength.

In comparison, his trusty sharpened wooden leg was more practical; a single impalement through the mouth would at least guarantee a single kill.

It has been tried and proven.

Nevertheless, as Desmond searched the rooms on the second floor one by one, his heart began to palpitate.

'There's danger.'

Desmond's eyes sharpened with caution as he paused outside the bathroom door. He sensed the presence of a single threat.

After taking a deep breath, he slowly turned the doorknob to unlock the door before gripping his trusty wooden spike with both hands and peeking through the gap.

He confirmed the left side was clear and concluded the threat was either situated behind the door or on the right side of the bathroom.

Without hesitation, Desmond slammed the door open with a shoulder bash and entered the bathroom, weapon ready for impalement.

But the moment his eyes landed on the fat green-skinned zombie stuck in the bathtub on the right side; he immediately gave up.

It wasn't the common Walker-class zombie but the rarer Spitter-class zombie.

"Fuck," Desmond uttered with a wry look.

The Spitter-class zombie's throat suddenly inflated like a balloon before Desmond's body was rained full of corrosive acid that spewed forth.

Ding!

<You have taken fatal damage from a Spitter-class Zombie>

<You have been killed>

<All items on your body will be dropped>

<You will respawn at your registered stronghold after 24 hours have passed>

<…Now logging off Eden Online…>