Chapter 13

In this unfamiliar land, Mark stands upon a welcome sign planted firmly beside a rustic dirt road. The air is cold and crisp, signaling the arrival of winter. The once vibrant sky now fades from a pale orange to a deepening blue, hinting at the approaching nightfall.

Surrounded by vast, snow-covered plains, the only sound is the distant howl of the wind, sweeping across the barren landscape. The absence of trees accentuates the desolate beauty of the scene, as he takes in the solitude of his new surroundings, where the world feels both vast and intimate in its quiet isolation.

Despite wearing only a thin T-shirt, his strong physique helps him endure the biting cold. He shivers as the icy wind touches his skin, but his muscles provide some protection against the chill. His breath forms misty clouds in the air, and though he feels the cold, he stands tall, appreciating the beauty of the snow-covered surroundings.

There's a mix of discomfort and amazement in his eyes, his enhanced physique allowing him to bear the harsh winter weather with resilience.

In his dimensional space, he retrieves a thick, stylish black coat, courtesy of Monica.

The coat is a classic design that he could easily find in a department store in the mall back in the world of dawn of the dead. It has a sleek silhouette, made from a durable wool blend, ensuring both warmth and elegance.

The coat's simplicity enhances its timeless appeal, making it a versatile choice for any occasion.

"So incredibly handsome," he muttered, his narcissism oozing from every word.

After a week of focused training, Mark improved his fighting skills and practiced shooting guns diligently.

After spending quality time with the girls and aware of Luda's approaching due date, he embarked on a journey in search of a normal world.

Feeling prepared, he decided to venture out in search of a normal world, his honed combat abilities giving him the confidence to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Thankfully, his phone's abilities allowed him to pause time in their world, granting him the freedom to explore different realities at his own pace.

He examined the sign that read,

"WELCOME TO BARROW, ALASKA – TOP OF THE WORLD! POPULATION 152 – WARNING! DANGER! POLAR BEARS!"

His mind began to wander, trying to grasp the reality of his surroundings. He pondered, 'What world am I in right now?'

Mark's contemplation came to an abrupt halt as the sound of his phone yanked him back from his musings.

His phone's interface displayed a surprising message:

"Congratulations on surviving your first world. You earned 1 movie point, and a bonus point for the first world, making it a total of 2 points."

As he read the usage of movie points, he learned that they could be utilized to travel to specific movie worlds(have a legitimate identity) or replicate unique abilities and knowledge from the worlds he had visited or currently inhabited.

He eagerly attempted to use his points to travel to the go-to movie world where transmigrators often found themselves, specifically picking it for the easy access to super abilities.

Mark looked as if he'd been splashed with cold water when he saw the staggering points needed for each movie world:

 Limitless – 69 points,

Resident Evil – 69 points,

Captain America – 69 points,

Chronicle – 69 points,

My Super Ex-Girlfriend – 696 points,

Megamind – 6969 points.

The realization of the high costs left him in a state of disbelief and frustration.

In sheer frustration, he lit a cigarette and took a long, exasperated puff, the smoke curling around him like his mounting frustration. The daunting points required for the movie worlds left him feeling utterly defeated, a mix of irritation and helplessness etched on his face.

With a sense of reluctant determination, he continued scanning his phone, searching for abilities to exchange from the Dawn of the Dead world. He quickly skipped over the gruesome "Feeding Frenzy," cringing at the thought, and shook his head in refusal. "Nope, nopey nope, I'm not into vore or something." he muttered under his breath.

He settled for mundane skills, disappointed by the lack of appealing options, scrolling through the list before swiping his screen impatiently to explore the next page.

After swiping through the options, he found himself in the world of "30 Days of Night." His dry chuckle filled the air as he muttered, "Well, from zombies to vampires."

What does this world all about?

"You see, there's this little town called Barrow up in Alaska. Now, picture this: for 30 days straight, there's no sunlight, just darkness. And that's when they come, the vampires.

These bloodsuckers, led by a ruthless one named Marlow, they decide this is their kind of buffet. I mean, who can blame them? It's 30 days of pure darkness, perfect for a vampire feeding frenzy.

So, it's the townsfolk, led by Sheriff Eben Oleson and his estranged wife, Stella, trying to survive while these monsters are out to get them. It's a brutal fight for survival, a mix of horror and pure grit. They're clawing their way through those 30 days, desperate to see the sun again. That's the essence of it."

Feeling the weight of the challenge ahead, he grunted in frustration. In the realm of "30 Days of Night," where vampires ruled the night, he knew their only weaknesses were decapitation or sunlight. 

Doubt crept in as he pondered whether even shooting them in the head would permanently incapacitate them. Mark is uncertain as he questioned whether he was faster or slower than these nocturnal predators. 

He glanced at his phone once more, attempting to travel back to the Dawn of the Dead world to fetch a UV lamp, his best chance against the vampires.

"Insufficient points to leave this world. Please complete this world as the return to earlier worlds is free," the message on his phone stated, leaving him with no choice but to shrugged.

"Fuck you very much."

Mark checked his storage space, discovering a collection of bottled wines and liquors that his women had hoarded, occasionally indulging in them before retiring to sleep.

Spotting the gasoline among the stored items, an idea sparked in his mind. He could potentially use it to create Molotov cocktails.

He made his way to the roadside. Gathering the necessary materials, he attempted to fill the glass bottles with gasoline, spilling a little in the process. His fingers fumbled as he tried to seal the bottles, and the cloth pieces he soaked didn't seem to hold the fuel properly at first.

"Hope I don't burn myself up with this."

Despite his lack of expertise, he carried on, determined to figure it out. One by one, he continued until he had made 10 bottles of the makeshift weapons.

Feeling a mix of accomplishment and relief, he stood up and stretched, satisfied with his somewhat clumsy but functional creations. Mark washed his hands with isopropyl alcohol and water to prevent them from burning due to the spilled gasoline.

Just then, he heard a sheriff's vehicle approaching. He watched as it came to a halt by the side of the road in front of him. The window rolled down, and a man leaned out, asking, "Need any help?"

"Sure, I'm heading into town. Is it okay if I hitch a ride?" Mark asked tentatively. Remembering the the man he's facing. If he's not wrong he should be on his way to pick the female lead.

"Well, I'm heading out. I need to pick someone up and drive her to the airport. If you're not in a hurry, you're welcome to come with me," the man said, a friendly smile on his face. Mark nodded appreciatively and climbed into the back of the sheriff's car. "I'm Billy, by the way," the man added.

"Thanks, Billy. I'm Mark," he replied, offering a small but genuine smile, feeling a sense of relief as they set off towards town. In the quiet of his thoughts, he added, 'And because you're a good person, I'll prevent you from killing your family.'