“Aaargh! It hurts!” The young man scread in agony as his head was consud by the flying octopus, its slimy tentacles tightening with horrifying precision. The grotesque sight sent waves of terror rippling through the group as their newly found courage began to falter.
“Eek!”
“Oh, God! Help us!”
“Why is this happening to us?”
Cries of despair filled the air as the horrific scene played out before them.
The young man thrashed wildly, swinging the tal signboard in blind desperation. He even struck at his own head in a futile attempt to dislodge the creature, but alas, it was no use. In fact, it only made the situation worse as he injured himself further by hitting his own head.
“Agh! My head! It hurts, it hurts so much!”
I stepped forward, gripping my steel pipe tightly, intending to strike the creature down. But his frantic movents made it impossible to get close without risking a blow from his wildly flailing weapon. Others hesitated as well, unsure of what to do, until the bald man in the tank top mustered the courage to approach.
“Calm down, lad! I’ll save you!” shouted the bald man as he charged forward, enduring the blows from the flailing signboard. I couldn’t help but notice that despite being struck several tis, he barely seed fazed. His resilience was far beyond that of an ordinary person.
Unfortunately, his efforts ca too late. By the ti he reached the young man and drove the plank in his hand toward the octopus, the body beneath it had already gone limp, crumpling lifelessly to the ground.
“Oh my god! He’s dead!” gasped the young woman who had threatened to call the police earlier. She dropped to her knees, despair etched across her face.
The rest of the group wasn’t faring any better. So stared in horror, while others threw down their makeshift weapons, the fragile unity they’d built collapsing like a house of cards. Without any beacon of hope, their heads were filled with despair.
But the zombies and flying octopuses weren’t about to wait for them to recover as they swooped in to attack us. One of the creatures lunged at , and I reacted instinctively, gripping my steel pipe tightly. With a burst of adrenaline, I stabbed it straight in the face and drove it to the ground with everything I got.
“Ghuuuuaaa!” The zombie let out a guttural groan as it stopped moving.
You have hunted [Octoferal Zombie Lv.2].
You have gained 20 EXP.
I gasped for air, wiping the sweat and gri from my brow. I was neither a soldier nor a survivalist, but years of playing sports and fighting in school and hitting the gym in my free ti had at least kept fit. Even so, this was exhausting, and the fight was far from over.
Checking the countdown, my stomach sank—twenty minutes still remained. It had felt like an hour, but so little ti had passed. Worse, the monsters were closing in fast. This was a no-go. At this rate, we wouldn’t even make it halfway before being killed.
“Aaah! Soone, save !” a desperate cry pierced through the chaos.
I turned toward the source and spotted the old man had fallen on his butt with a zombie looming over him, ready to eat him. Without a second thought, I hurled the steel pipe with all my strength. More out of desperation than precision. By so stroke of luck, or instinct, it struck true, slamming into the octopus latched to the zombie’s head and dropping the creature instantly.
You have hunted [Octoferal Zombie Lv.2].
You have gained 20 EXP.
I had confird the monster’s weakness. Just like the zombies I rembered, a hit to the head—or rather, the octopus latched to it—was fatal. I didn’t know if it applied to all of them, but it was the only thing that I could rely upon.
As I retrieved the steel pipe from the monster’s skull, I looked at the old man, his face pale with fear, and then at the others who stood frozen and had lost their will to fight except for a few.
“If you want to survive, then fight!” I roared, putting every ounce of force into my voice. It snapped them out of their stupor, eyes turning toward . I wasn’t the type to play the hero, but survival demanded it. If rallying them was the only way to get through this, then so be it!
“Follow !” I yelled, motioning toward the overpass I had spotted earlier. Without waiting for their response, I dashed toward it, beginning my ascent with the steel pipe firmly in hand.
The overpass had only two paths leading up, and the bridge was quite high off the ground. If the monsters managed to encircle both entrances, my escape route would be completely cut off. Still, it was better than being surrounded on all sides, especially by the flying octopuses, which could strike at any mont if I let my guard down. Thankfully, the overpass had a roof, offering so protection. I feared that if I got too exhausted, it would be my doom.
When I reached the top, I turned to see that only about half the group had managed to follow —mostly those in better physical shape. The older and weaker ones were trailing behind, so of them already falling prey to the relentless zombies and flying octopuses. When everyone was trying to save their asses, there was no ti to care for others.
“No, no, no! I don’t wanna die!” the entitled woman scread as a zombie lunged at her. In her panic, she shoved the middle-aged man in the brown suit beside her into the monster’s path.
“Aahhh!” The man’s scream cut through the air as the zombie tore into him, killing him in seconds.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she cried frantically.
“Shit!” I cursed under my breath. However, I’d no ti to focus on her as the fleeing people caused chaos as they tried to go up.
Then, I heard another desperate cry. “Young man, please wait!” The old man, the last to make it up the staircase, reached out with a trembling hand toward .
My instincts told to let him fend for himself, but I could already see the ripple effect his death would cause. If he fell, the crowd’s fragile unity would shatter, leaving us all vulnerable.
“Soone, cover the other staircase! I’ll handle this one!” I shouted, rushing to intercept the threat.
Two zombies and a flying octopus were closing in fast. Focusing on the imdiate danger, I jabbed my steel pipe at the octopus as it swooped down, driving it into the ground before it could reach him.
You have hunted [Octoferal Lv.1].
You have gained 10 EXP.
One down.
I shifted my attention to the nearest zombie, which had grabbed the old man’s arm. Swinging the steel pipe with all my might, I struck its head. The force of the blow sent it tumbling down the stairs, a satisfying thud echoing as it landed.
But more zombies were already climbing the staircase. One lunged forward, grabbing with surprising strength.
“Grrraaagh!!”
Shit! Shit! Shit! Panic surged through . In that split second, regret pierced my chest like a dagger—regret for risking everything to save the old man. But now, trapped in the zombie’s grip, there was nothing that I could do to save my life—
Crack!
A crashing sound rang out as the zombie gripping was suddenly struck on the head by a wooden plank, which shattered to pieces from the impact.
“You two okay?” asked the bald man with a deep voice. Now that he was closer, I noticed just how imposing his figure was. His fra towered over mine, and I’d always considered myself taller than average. With muscles rippling beneath his skin, he looked like a seasoned bodybuilder despite seeming at least twenty years older. His chiseled features and square jaw gave him an aura of rugged strength—the kind of look that belonged on recruitnt posters, though his age added an air of experience rather than raw youth.
“I’m okay. Thank you for saving ,” I said, steadying myself and offering him a grateful nod.
“My na’s Boris. I dunno what kind of shitty ga-like nightmare we’ve been dumped into,” he replied, tearing off what remained of his tank top to reveal his bulging muscles, “but now’s not the ti for pleasantries. Let’s give it our all to survive this.”
I nodded, grounding myself as I turned back to face the encroaching horde. The overpass’s walkway was narrow, barely two ters wide—just enough space for two or three zombies to squeeze through at a ti. Even then, their movents were constrained by the tight space, which gave us a crucial advantage. For now, this was the best choke point we could hope for.
As three zombies squeezed into the narrow space, Boris confronted two of them head-on. With a display of precise, almost effortless technique, he grabbed both octopus-covered faces and slamd the monsters to the ground in a fluid, Jiu-Jitsu-like move.
Incredible. I couldn’t help but admire his astonishing movents. Boris wasn’t just strong; he was precise—eerily so. Every strike, every block, was executed with a level of efficiency that spoke of years of experience. His sheer presence on the battlefield was enough to tip the scales in our favor, and I was confident that Boris could beco an invaluable ally in the future.
Not wasting my thought going any deeper into this, I focused on the third zombie and jabbed my steel pipe straight at its grotesque face. The impact sent a shiver through my arms as I noted the weapon’s deterioration. The pipe was bent now, and its once sharp edge had dulled. It wouldn’t hold out much longer.
You have hunted [Octoferal Zombie Lv.2].
You have gained 20 EXP.
This continued for what felt like an eternity.
You have hunted [Octoferal Zombie Lv.2].
You have gained 20 EXP.
You have hunted [Octoferal Zombie Lv.2].
You have gained 20 EXP.
You have hunted [Octoferal Lv.1].
You have gained 10 EXP.
You have hunted [Octoferal Zombie Lv.2].
You have gained 20 EXP.
…
I fought relentlessly, each swing of my steel pipe more desperate than the last. My breath ca in ragged gasps, my muscles burned, and beads of sweat stread down my body as though I’d stepped out of a sauna. Yet, no matter how many fell, there always seed to be more, an endless tide of rot and malice bearing down on us.
It wasn’t until a new type of notification appeared that I faltered for a mont.
Your Stamina has increased by 1.
You have acquired a skill: [Basic Spearmanship Lv.1].
A faint sense of achievent flickered in the back of my mind. I knew that prolonged use of a particular weapon could grant a proficiency skill, though this was my first ti experiencing it myself. In fact, it wasn’t uncommon for most people to start with one or two skills already. Unfortunately, there was no way to confirm such things—not until the first scenario was cleared and access to the status page was unlocked.
I could feel that using the steel pipe was getting easier and more effective, which gave more confidence in passing through this.
But that thought cost dearly. As I raised the steel pipe to strike another zombie, a loud crack split the air.
Broken Steel Pipe is out of durability.
Broken Steel Pipe is destroyed.
The makeshift weapon splintered in my hands, the sharp end snapping clean off and clattering to the ground.
In the face of a group of monsters that could kill within seconds, I was weaponless.
Ti Remaining: 5 minutes 2 seconds
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