A Test of Immunity ( R )

The idea of his immunity still filled his mind, refusing to go away.

It felt unreal.

What if it was just luck? What if the zombies had ignored him by accident? What if next time, they attacked him?

Doubt crept into his thoughts.

He needed to be sure.

Ryo took a deep breath and turned to the front door of his apartment. His hands tightened on the handle as his heart raced.

This was crazy.

But he had to know.

Gathering his courage, he opened the door and stepped outside into the cold, empty street. The air felt heavy, and the world was silent, like a graveyard.

His breath caught as he looked around.

Then—he saw them.

The zombies.

A small group, moving slowly, their thin bodies drifting like ghosts through the lifeless street.

Ryo's chest tightened. This was the real test.

His body screamed at him to run. To go back inside, lock the door, and pretend the last time had been a dream.

But he forced himself to stay.

Because if this was real—if he was truly untouchable—then he wasn't just another survivor.

He was something different.

With clenched teeth, Ryo took a step forward, closer to the horrors that should have killed him.

Would they ignore him again?

Or would this be the moment he found out he wasn't special after all?

Ryo breathed out, his breath shaky. His heart pounded, but he refused to stop.

This was the only way to know for sure.

With stiff fingers, he took off his jacket and let it fall to the ground. The cold air bit his skin, but he barely noticed. Next, he removed his gloves, dropping them like they were useless.

No barriers. No protection. Just him.

His heart raced as he unbuttoned his shirt, each button making him more nervous. The street felt too open, too quiet.

But he kept going.

His shirt slipped off, leaving his chest bare in the cold air. His skin prickled, not just from the cold—but from the fear of what he was doing.

He paused for a moment.

Then, with one last deep breath, he pushed past his fear.

He quickly took off his pants, socks, and shoes—until he was only wearing shorts and slippers.

Completely exposed.

The weight of what he had just done pressed down on him. No thick clothes to hide his scent. No fabric to protect him from a bite.

If the zombies ignored him now…

Then it wasn't just luck.

Then he wasn't just immune.

Then he was something else entirely.

He swallowed hard, his body tense as he took his first step forward—toward the mindless monsters that should have already killed him.

Ryo took a deep breath and stepped forward.

His bare feet touched the rough, cold pavement. Each step felt heavy, but he forced himself to keep going—toward the zombies that should have already attacked him.

His heart pounded loudly, each beat echoing in his ears. The world had never felt so quiet.

Then—they saw him.

Their empty, black eyes turned toward him. Dozens of them. Their sunken faces twitched, their expressions unreadable.

But they didn't attack.

Ryo kept walking.

One step. Then another. And another.

His breathing was sharp and controlled, bracing for the moment they would strike. Every muscle in his body tensed, screaming at him to run—to turn back, to hide, to stop testing his luck.

But he didn't stop.

He walked faster, moving closer—into the horde.

Cold, damp flesh brushed against his arm. The smell of rot filled his nose. A bloated hand touched his shoulder as a zombie shuffled past.

Still—nothing.

No growls. No snarls. No sudden attack.

They just moved around him.

As if he wasn't even there.

A strange feeling spread through Ryo's chest. Was it relief? Awe? Horror?

He was standing in the middle of death itself. And death didn't care about him.

A sudden rush of boldness filled Ryo.

His breath caught as he raised a hand, fingers shaking, and reached out—toward one of the zombies.

His fingertips touched cold, rough skin.

The feeling sent a shiver through him. The zombie's skin was dry and cracked, stretched over lifeless muscle. He expected it to turn its head, grab his wrist, and bite him.

But it didn't move.

It didn't even notice.

The zombie just kept walking, unaware of the living hand that had touched its rotting body.

Ryo's chest tightened. His body screamed that this was wrong, that he should run, not stand there testing his luck.

But his heart felt lighter.

He had walked among them. He had touched one. And he was still alive. Untouched.

A slow, disbelieving smile spread across his face.

I'm different. I'm immune.

Feeling more confident, he turned and walked back to his apartment. His heartbeat calmed, and his fear began to fade. The heavy weight on his chest was lifting.

He wasn't helpless.

He wasn't prey.

He was something else.

Back in his apartment, Ryo sat on the couch, his mind racing with possibilities.

This wasn't just about survival.

This was an opportunity.

And he planned to use it.

Ryo poured himself a glass of water, watching the liquid swirl as he thought.

The day's events still weighed on him, but a strange sense of calm settled in his chest.

He was alive. Untouched.

For the first time since the world had fallen apart, he didn't feel like a trapped animal, waiting to be hunted. He wasn't like the others, who had to run, hide, or fight to survive.

He was different.

Ryo leaned back on the couch, his muscles relaxing, his breathing slowing. He was exhausted, but his mind wouldn't rest.

The world outside was still broken, the streets filled with the dead. But now, that world felt... open. A place he could walk without fear. A place where he could decide his next move.

He closed his eyes, letting the quiet sink in. Tomorrow, everything would begin. He would test the limits of his immunity. He would gather supplies, search for answers—and maybe figure out what his survival truly meant.

The sun set, its fading light casting long shadows across the walls.

A reminder that time was passing. That this peace wouldn't last.

But instead of fear, determination burned in his chest.

The world was full of chaos, and yet, Ryo had something no one else did.

( End of Chapter )