Chapter 5: The First Real Mistake
Brian learned something important that night.
Having power didn't make him safe.
It just made him loud.
The city stretched out in front of him, fractured into pockets of darkness and firelight. Somewhere far off, something exploded—deep and heavy, the kind of sound that rolled through concrete and rattled bones. Brian flinched instinctively, ducking behind the rusted shell of a delivery truck.
He waited.
Nothing followed. No screams. No growls.
Just the distant crackle of flames and the low moan of wind pushing ash through the streets.
Brian exhaled slowly and pressed his back against the truck, sliding down until he was crouched low. His ribs screamed in protest, a sharp reminder of how close he'd come to being torn apart earlier.
"Okay," he whispered. "Status check."
He patted himself down. Bruised ribs. Scraped hands. Legs shaky but working. No bites. No bleeding that wouldn't stop.
"Still human," he muttered. "That's something."
The brick rested heavy in his right hand.
> S-rank — Impact Brick (Special Attribute: Shatter)
The words floated faintly at the edge of his vision, unobtrusive but impossible to ignore.
Brian looked at it, then at the empty street.
"I don't trust you," he told the brick quietly. "But I trust the things trying to eat me even less."
He pushed himself up and limped forward, favoring his left side. Every step sent a dull ache through his torso, but stopping wasn't an option. The city punished stillness.
A flickering neon sign buzzed overhead—MART—half the letters dead. The glass front doors were shattered, one hanging crookedly from its hinges.
A grocery store.
Brian hesitated at the entrance.
"Bad idea," he said aloud.
His stomach growled in response, loud and insistent.
"…Fine," he sighed. "Quick look. In and out."
He slipped inside.
The store smelled wrong—rotting produce, spilled alcohol, something metallic beneath it all. Shelves lay overturned, aisles gutted. Footprints crisscrossed the floor in every direction, some smeared dark.
Brian moved slowly, eyes scanning constantly.
"No hero stuff," he murmured. "No bravery points."
He checked the canned goods aisle first. Mostly empty. A few crushed cans littered the floor like casualties.
Then he saw it.
One can, dented but intact, wedged behind a fallen shelf.
Brian crouched and picked it up like it might explode.
"Please," he whispered. "Just be food."
The label read: Canned Beans.
Brian closed his eyes in relief.
"Jackpot."
Ding.
> You have obtained: 1 — Canned Food
Brian nodded. "Yep. That tracks."
The air shimmered faintly.
Ding.
> 10× Multiplier activating…
Brian felt a strange pressure in his chest, like the system was doing math somewhere behind his ribs.
Ding.
> You have obtained: 10,000 — Canned Food
(Check out in your inventory)
Brian froze.
"…What?"
He blinked, and a translucent interface slid into view—barebones, simple.
Inventory:
• Canned Food × 10,000
• Bottled Water × —
Brian stared.
Ten thousand.
He swallowed. "That's… that's a lot of beans."
His stomach chose that moment to growl again, louder.
Brian laughed softly, rubbing his face with one hand. "Okay. Okay, I get it. You're logistics, not magic."
The laughter faded quickly.
Ten thousand cans didn't help him if he died tonight.
He tucked the single physical can into his backpack anyway, instinct stronger than logic, then moved deeper into the store.
That was his mistake.
He stepped past the checkout counters—and the floor shifted.
It wasn't dramatic. No cracking thunder. Just a subtle, wrong vibration under his boots.
Brian froze mid-step.
"Oh no," he whispered.
The tiles gave way.
The ground dropped out from under him, and Brian fell hard into darkness.
He hit concrete shoulder-first, pain exploding through his side as the air was ripped from his lungs. His head bounced, stars bursting behind his eyes. He rolled, crashed into something metal, and finally came to a stop in a heap.
For a moment, all he could do was gasp.
"Okay," he wheezed. "That… that was definitely a bad idea."
Emergency lights flickered weakly overhead, revealing a lower level—storage. Wide. Cold. Filled with shadows.
Something moved.
Brian forced himself upright, brick already in his hand, heart slamming against his ribs.
"Please be rats," he whispered.
It wasn't rats.
Three figures emerged from the darkness.
They were bigger than the infected he'd fought before. Broader. Their muscles bulged unnaturally beneath gray, stretched skin. Their movements were smoother—deliberate.
One of them rolled its shoulders.
Brian's mouth went dry.
"Yeah," he murmured. "That tracks too."
The system flickered.
Ding.
> Threat Identified:
E-rank Zombie — Strength Type
Brian stared at the words.
"E-rank," he said softly. "So… upgrade."
The zombie charged.
It moved fast.
Brian barely had time to raise the brick before it was on him. He swung—
The impact landed on its shoulder.
Instead of shattering, the zombie staggered back only slightly, flesh dented but intact.
Brian's blood ran cold.
"Oh," he breathed. "That's bad."
The strength-type roared and slammed its fist into Brian's chest.
Pain detonated.
Brian flew backward, crashing into stacked crates. Wood exploded around him as he hit the ground hard, vision blurring.
He screamed.
"Too strong," he gasped, rolling away as another blow pulverized the concrete where his head had been. "Way too strong!"
The other two zombies moved in, cutting off his retreat.
Brian's mind raced.
Brick isn't enough. Not like this.
His gaze snapped to the environment—metal shelves, pallets, a forklift tipped on its side.
"Think," he hissed. "Use what's here."
The strength-type charged again.
Brian sprinted for the forklift, pain screaming through his side. He leapt into the driver's seat on instinct and slammed his palm down on the ignition.
The engine roared to life.
Brian blinked in surprise. "Oh. Thank you."
He shoved the controls forward.
The forklift lurched ahead, metal forks slamming into the zombie's torso and lifting it off the ground. The zombie thrashed, roaring, but Brian didn't slow.
He drove straight into a concrete pillar.
The impact echoed through the storage level like a gunshot.
The zombie's spine snapped audibly. Its body collapsed in a broken heap.
The remaining zombies hesitated.
Brian reversed hard, heart pounding. "Yeah," he panted. "Reconsider."
They didn't.
They charged.
Brian abandoned the forklift and ran, ducking between shelves as hands scraped at him from all sides. One grabbed his backpack, tearing fabric.
"Hey!" Brian spun and smashed the brick into its skull.
This time, the shatter triggered.
The zombie dropped instantly.
The second lunged.
Brian stumbled, foot catching on debris. He fell hard, air exploding from his lungs.
The zombie loomed overhead.
Brian grabbed the brick and hurled it with everything he had.
The brick struck the zombie's chest and detonated in a concussive boom, blowing it backward in a spray of gore.
Brian lay there, stunned.
"…Okay," he wheezed. "Brick also doubles as artillery."
Silence crept back in.
Brian lay still for several seconds, making sure nothing else moved.
Ding.
> Zombies eliminated: 3
Kill Coins acquired: +5
Brian laughed weakly. "Five coins. Fantastic. Do you take those at hospitals?"
He dragged himself upright, every movement agony. His ribs burned with every breath, a deep, worrying pain that told him something was wrong.
"Can't stay," he muttered. "Definitely can't stay."
He found a service stairwell and climbed slowly, every step a battle. By the time he reached the alley above, sweat soaked his clothes and his hands shook uncontrollably.
He collapsed against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting.
The city loomed around him, vast and uncaring.
Brian twisted the cap of his water bottle and drank deeply, the cold liquid steadying him but not fixing the pain.
"No healing," he murmured. "Just… survival."
Somewhere nearby, something growled.
Brian forced himself to stand, brick heavy in his hand, backpack slung awkwardly over one shoulder.
"Lesson learned," he said quietly. "Power doesn't mean safe."
He limped deeper into the city, every step slower than the last, the weight of his mistake pressing down harder than any zombie ever had.
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End of Chapter 5..