Lin An twisted the iron lock off the rooftop door with his bare hands, the metal groaning before snapping free. He pulled Wen Ya in after him and slipped into the fire escape.
It was already afternoon. The hotel, priding itself on privacy, had all its windows shut tight. With no power, the interior was hushed and dim.
On the ninth floor, several zombies wandered listlessly through the corridor. The plush red carpet was soaked in dark stains, the once-luxurious wallpaper spattered with dried blood.
A grotesque sight crawled along the floor: a female zombie with only an upper body, dragging herself forward with one arm. Behind her, a half-decayed male student gnawed hungrily on a severed thigh as he followed.
Her boyfriend, maybe.
A romantic getaway turned nightmare.
Lin An's eyes narrowed. Wandering corpses weren't the real threat—the real danger lurked behind the locked room doors, waiting.
He launched forward. In one fluid motion, he cleared the corner of the stairs and drove his blade into the student zombie's skull. Bone cracked. The corpse toppled.
The crawling girl had no time to react before Lin An's boot crushed her skull into the carpet with a wet pop.
"Roar!"
The others turned at the sound, heads jerking unnaturally.
Unlike the sluggish creatures of old horror films, these zombies were fast—terrifyingly fast.
They charged.
Lin An didn't flinch. His blade sang upward, slicing one clean through the temple. Pivot, step, strike—two sharp flashes of steel carved through the next pair.
Every move was precise, force-controlled, no wasted motion. The combat instincts of three long years in his last life melded perfectly with his enhanced body.
Less than three seconds. Silence. The hallway was littered with bodies.
Behind him, Wen Ya gripped the fire axe in both hands, ready to swing. But all that greeted her was carnage—corpses split in half, skulls crushed.
Her shoulders sagged. "...Useless."
"Let me… look for the room card." She crouched quickly, forcing herself to rummage through a body. Anything to prove her worth.
Lin An tilted his head, watching her with a strange expression.
"No electricity. What use is a room card?"
Her cheeks burned.
Ignoring her embarrassment, Lin An simply reached for the nearest lock. The handle twisted like tinfoil in his grip and snapped free.
"Room 909."
They entered.
The room was gaudy: a waterbed in the center, erotic paintings lining the walls, hanging chairs, and yoga balls scattered about. Black straps dangled ominously from the ceiling over the headboard.
Wen Ya blushed, eyes dropping. She didn't fully understand what any of it was for—only that it seemed… excessive.
Lin An scanned the space, then nodded. Safe. For now.
"Stay here and rest. I have something else to handle."
Wen Ya lifted her head. "Where are you going? I don't—"
"The space here is too small. If you follow, it'll only be dangerous."
His tone was flat, brooking no argument.
He hadn't come to the Mengpa Hotel just for shelter. If memory served, a mutant lurked within these floors. Killing it would push him into Level 1. A leap in power he couldn't ignore.
But with Wen Ya trailing? She'd be dead weight.
Her true value lay elsewhere—once she awakened, she could support him in larger battles. For now, she was safer behind a locked door with food.
Wen Ya bit her lip but said nothing. She wasn't stupid enough to play the heroine who rushed to her death.
Lin An left her rations, then turned down the corridor.
A sound froze him mid-step.
Click.
The door of Room 901 creaked open.
A scruffy middle-aged man stepped out, tugging a young woman after him. His beard was unkempt, eyes gleaming with desperate hope.
"Hello, comrade!" He actually extended his hand as though greeting a colleague.
Lin An didn't move. His cold stare alone made the man falter, his hand hanging awkwardly in the air.
"—I'm Wang Jianguo, head of the Forestry Department." The man coughed to steady himself. The young woman beside him—plump, heavily made-up—ducked her head, sneaking glances at Lin An.
"Big brother, my name is Xiuxiu." Her voice dripped sweetness, her blouse deliberately pulled low as she leaned forward.
Lin An's eyes didn't flicker. He already understood. Official. Mistress. A pair of burdens.
Wang Jianguo cleared his throat, slipping into his well-practiced official tone. "First of all, thank you for saving us. I will remember this kindness. If you escort me to the government office, I'll ensure my superiors commend you. It will be of great benefit to your future development—"
Shing.
Lin An's blade kissed his throat.
The bureaucrat froze, face draining of color.
"Spare me the speeches. Say what you want."
The killing intent in Lin An's eyes forced both of them back a step.
Wang Jianguo swallowed his anger. All his life, people had flattered him. He had no idea the world outside had changed beyond recognition. But one look at Lin An's effortless slaughter earlier was enough to tell him—this man was his only chance at survival.
"Escort me," he tried again, forcing a smile. "I'll see you rewarded. Public office, a stable future—"
Lin An sneered and turned away.
Public office? Fool. The government building was already crawling with thousands of zombies, with mutants nested inside.
Xiuxiu's voice trembled as she tugged Wang Jianguo's sleeve. "Director, maybe… maybe we should just follow him first?"
Wang Jianguo's face darkened. But he knew she was right. Without Lin An, they were corpses waiting to be eaten.
Together, they hurried after him.
The eighth floor.
Lin An pushed through the fire door. In the middle of the corridor, a dozen zombies hammered at a flimsy door, drawn by noise inside.
From within came muffled sobbing.
The doorframe was cracking apart, a fist-sized hole already smashed through the wood.
"Yu Shihao, what do we do?!" A girl's voice, raw with tears.
Inside, a boy turned on her with venom.
"What do we do? You're bleeding, that's what we do! You bitch—dragging me here while you're on your period?!"
His palm cracked across her cheek, followed by a vicious kick. His face twisted with panic and hatred.
After the outbreak, he had immediately locked the door and hidden, clinging to the illusion of safety. But when zombies ignored the other rooms and came only for theirs, he realized. It was her. The smell of blood.
The girl—Zhou Fang—sobbed, still clinging to hope. "Didn't you say… you'd love me? Protect me?"
Yu Shihao's laugh was ugly, broken. "Love you? If you weren't a virgin, would I even bother?"
He glanced at the door. The hole widened. A rotting hand clawed through, groping blindly.
Panic surged in his chest.
We can't wait.
His eyes hardened.
He pulled a keychain knife from his belt, turned, and without hesitation drove it into Zhou Fang's ankle.
She screamed, collapsing.
"Damn bitch. Didn't you say you loved me? Then die for me!"
Blood pooled. Her sobs turned into shrill screams.
Yu Shihao pinned her other leg, slashing again. His grin was manic, desperate.
"Love me—and die for me!"