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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 · 奇幻
分數不夠
338 Chs

Time To Work

In the following days, Kazuichi Stronghold and Scarlet Blood Stronghold worked in unison like two gears in a well-oiled machine. The combined efforts of both fortresses were necessary if they wanted to stand a chance against the looming threat of mindless Hybrid armies. The scouts, now doubled in numbers, moved like shadows in the wilderness, vigilant in their task to track any sign of movement from the enemy. Tensions were high, but no one complained—everyone understood the stakes.

Beneath the canopy of trees and the cold mountain winds, the scouts communicated with hand signals, keeping silent as they traveled farther than usual. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation. Every shift in the bushes, every distant howl, had their weapons ready, poised to strike. They couldn't afford any mistakes.