The motorcycle roared, its modified engine propelling Lin An to over 100 kilometers per hour.
Wind slapped his face, but his expression remained unreadable. Even shouts from the community behind him went unnoticed—he wouldn't stop for anyone.
The black machine blurred along the ring road like a shadow. Crashed cars littered the street, mangled bodies scattered across the asphalt. Limbs dangled from guardrails like discarded meat.
Thanks to his awakened reflexes, Lin An weaved effortlessly between obstacles. His driving skills were not honed from practice, but from instincts far beyond human limits.
On the Ring Expressway, a man and a woman crouched on the roof of a silver-white RV. Trapped for more than a day, hungry, parched, and frozen, their will was nearly broken.
Below them, the original driver and passengers had turned into zombies. Four undead clawed at the vehicle, shrieking for flesh. Each tremor of the RV made the bald man scream.
The girl, Wen Ya, dressed in a white short-sleeved shirt and denim shorts, gripped the antenna to keep from sliding off.
"We can't stay here," she said calmly. "Without water or food, we'll die if we wait any longer."
The bald man, Li Zhiping—her boss—couldn't respond. Fear had frozen him.
Wen Ya sighed. She hadn't expected him to be so cowardly. Once, during a company outing, he had tried to coerce her into singing at karaoke. Now, trapped with zombies, he was powerless.
Her ankle throbbed—a faint bruise marked it where she had injured herself climbing onto the roof. She ignored it and scanned their surroundings, assessing their slim chance of survival.
"Help! Anyone—please!" Li Zhiping's voice cracked with desperation, raw and dry from shouting all day.
Wen Ya stayed seated, cross-legged, watching him with a level gaze. When he turned to her, tears streaked his face. "Check my neck! Did they scratch me?!"
"No," she replied coldly, hiding the flicker of unease in her eyes. Relief flooded him, and his nerves relaxed for a moment. He had witnessed firsthand how quickly one could transform if bitten—a mere scratch could doom him.
Wen Ya scanned the adjacent RV. The sunroof was slightly open. Food, keys, and perhaps a temporary escape. She turned to Li Zhiping.
"Jump. There's a chance. That thing can be crushed with one kick. If we stay, we'll die tonight."
Li Zhiping's gaze fixed on the RV. Confused and hesitant, he measured the gap. Wen Ya didn't glance at him again, conserving her energy. Inside, she smiled bitterly. She would force him to make the leap and then—if necessary—let the zombies do the rest.
Li Zhiping scratched his neck, feeling the familiar itch of infection. He hesitated, muttering nonsense about jumping first—or indulging himself before death. Wen Ya's expression hardened. Her right hand moved subtly behind her back toward a utility knife.
Suddenly:
"BOOM!"
The roar of a motorcycle engine cut through the chaos. Both lifted their heads.
A sleek black motorcycle streaked past, zombies and RV alike oblivious to its presence.
Li Zhiping yelled desperately, waving his hands. "Help!" But the figure vanished in the distance.
Hope turned to despair. Wen Ya's eyes narrowed. Her mind raced—only one chance remained. Survival meant precise action.
Lin An skidded at a highway fork, tires screeching as black marks scorched the asphalt. The motorcycle came to a smooth drift, then he jumped off, scanning the RV about 400 meters behind.
Not a hero. Not a savior of damsels. Survival was pragmatic. Still, something had caught his attention.
As he drove past the RV, a faint spiritual fluctuation had brushed against him. Doomsday equipment? Or something else entirely?
"Eye of Judgment!" Lin An activated the skill. Information streamed in like a waterfall:
Human: Male (Infected)
Player Level: 0 (Non-Awakened)
Human: Female (Normal)
Player Level: 1 (Non-Awakened)
Zombies: Normal
RV: Driving Item (Damage 22%)
His vision sharpened, locking onto the roof. Li Zhiping coughed, hunched over. Wen Ya stood alert, hand hidden behind her back.
No doomsday equipment. Nothing external explained her Level 1 status.
In the doomsday game, leveling required killing mutant zombies—two for Level 1, four for Level 2.
Yet Wen Ya, who had never faced mutants, was Level 1, with faint psychic fluctuations.
Lin An's brow furrowed. He already guessed the answer. His eyes burned with a mix of curiosity and calculation.