PART 1
Tuesday, September 7th.
Day 14 of the Apocalypse.
Ethan speaks over the radio.
– “Clark, can you hear me?”
<> “Yeah.
Is there a problem?
When are you coming back?”
“I’m still investigating.
There are a lot of people leaving the city.
And when I say a lot, I mean literally long lines of vehicles.
Apparently, the military has issued an evacuation order.”
<> “Copy that.
How much longer are you staying there?”
“Just today.
I have a feeling today is the day for something big and worrying…
order a halt to all work.
I don’t want our people wandering around and running into these folks.
There are so many of them; having that many people show up would mess up our plans.”
<> “Okay.
Anything else?”
“No, that’s it.
See you tomorrow.”
…
Ethan knows from his Season 2 memories that the bombing happens at night.
He has the whole day ahead of him, so he doesn’t have to just stay on the gas station roof.
It seems all the deaths have made the place somewhat… conspicuous.
People are sensitive to danger, and even Ethan feels like the atmosphere is… heavy.
It’s hard to explain, but he doesn’t feel welcome here.
Ethan has even reached Survivor Level 7, having survived 28 days in The Walking Dead apocalypse.
[4]: 7 Perception.
[2]: 7 Perception.
[9]: 7 → 8 Perception.
With this, his senses became sharper, and the range of [Radar Sense] increased significantly.
There isn’t much to detail beyond the fact that he became more sensitive in every respect.
He went out to hunt.
…
The forest is home to many scattered zombies, but he knows that once the bombing begins, the chaos will only escalate, and the number of zombies wandering these woods will be colossal.
But beyond zombies, Ethan encounters people—within the range of [Radar Sense].
Families and small groups camping and taking shelter; they are armed, setting up perimeters, and surviving however they can.
Yet, it isn’t all idyllic.
Aside from the few confident enough to live in the forest, there are those who feel safer here.
Ethan has scouted this area before; he has mapped the locations and knows of several points of interest—ranging from high ground and ancient structures to old hunter’s cabins, old power pylons, and more.
He visits these sites and any encampments that pop up.
He finds people—many of them—and he finds his targets: rapists and looters.
But among all these people, Ethan encounters someone he didn’t expect: a frustrated man with briefcases full of money, accompanied by a dozen armed men.
“Clovis?” Ethan raises an eyebrow.
The group has been camping—likely for a few days—at an abandoned radio station.
It is a relatively large site, and upon investigating, Ethan discovers a stash of weapons, money, and drugs.
‘So, this is your stockpile?’ Ethan’s eyes gleam; he hadn’t expected to find this.
…
It has been two weeks since the apocalypse began.
And for Clovis, those two weeks have been hellish.
After that strange police officer warned him about Martial Law—raising his awareness regarding the disease—he did some investigating, believed the warning, and began transporting his assets out of the city.
The problem was that when he did that—amidst a wave of casino robberies that left him unscathed—a war spiraled out of his control.
It hadn’t been long since he’d killed Bill and taken everything from him.
The situation remained precarious, and ultimately, the blame fell squarely on his shoulders.
His men were dying in droves on the streets, forcing him to retaliate and spend heavily to buy off the right people.
Police scrutiny intensified, all because of a few damn thieves who clearly wanted this war to happen.
Then the military began to show up—earlier than expected—and intervened directly in the gang war.
Seeing this, Clovis was even more glad that Ethan had warned them.
He took refuge at one of his bases outside the city, waiting for things to settle down.
But then the dead rose, and they found themselves cut off, with supplies running low.
Clovis considered his options.
“We’ve got guns and ammo; we could try to take supplies from some unlucky souls.
There are plenty of people fleeing the city today,” he said calmly.
“Wouldn’t it be better to just raid a supermarket?” someone asked.
“And risk turning into one of those things?
No thanks!” Clovis snarled.
“Feeling sorry for those people?
If you were starving right in front of them, they’d ignore the lot of you.
Now that the world has turned into this, people like us are going to be kings.” He laughed.
“We have the weapons and the ammo; we just need to find the right targets.” Clovis’s eyes gleamed.
“We’ll head to one of the small towns—fewer people, lots of groups to prey on.
We can take control, get all the women and food we want.
We’ll start by building our own little paradise.”
Clovis grinned excitedly.
People like him—who were considered less than trash in the old world—loved the current one; it was slowly becoming a blank slate, a lawless wasteland.
And lawless lands are perfect for those willing to seize them.
Clovis is just one of many.
He envisions what he might become and how many people he could control.
But it is a pity that, while he dreamed of his perfect world—doing whatever he pleased without the police breathing down his neck—his men, scattered and resting, are being cut down one by one.
A ghostly figure enters the building; sharp sounds ring out, followed immediately by confused, terrified screams.
Confused, Clovis draws his pistol, and his men pull out their weapons too, aiming in the direction of the noise.
A window opens, and a weapon appears.
Ethan doesn’t even need to show his face; he fires, and the bullets strike their targets with precision—heads exploding one after another.
Clovis screams and flees.
He runs toward the back of the building.
Bursting through the door, he sprints for the woods.
Ethan spots him escaping, takes a quick aim, and fires—a precise shot to the back of the head—and the body collapses.
Ethan enters the place, surveying the array of weapons and ammunition; there are even grenades and heavy weaponry.
He is eager to move it all.
His kill count has now reached 121.
[5]: 8 Perception. The source of this chapter is novelping.com.
[10]: 8 → 9 Perception.
[6]: 9 Perception.
[10]: 9 → 10 Perception.
[4]: 6 Charisma.
[4]: 6 Charisma.
His senses had been honed to the human limit—though, of course, there was still room for improvement as his attributes and associated skills advanced, further refining them.
But now, even without [Radar Sense], he could sense danger before it struck.
He now possessed a sixth sense for danger.
PART 2
In total, Ethan had gained 19 levels, giving him an inventory capable of holding 1,281.16 kg.
Yet, the fact that killing people was so immensely beneficial still bothered him—deeply.
Take Clovis, for instance: killing him yielded the standard 5 EXP for slaying a human, plus an additional 15 points for his status as a leader, and another 19 points for the 19 individuals he commanded.
All told, killing Clovis earned him 39 EXP.
But Ethan hadn’t killed 20 people; he had killed 17, including Clovis.
This suggested either that there were two more people out there he hadn’t discovered yet, or that the system was tallying the total number of individuals Clovis had led since the apocalypse began.
Had this been before the apocalypse, killing Clovis would have netted him at least 100 EXP; the man had a lot of people on his payroll.
“I hate that I actually want more of this kind of trash to show up.” Ethan grunted; he enjoyed leveling up, but he loathed the fact that killing people was the way to speed up the process.
And now, with the discovery of the “100th kill” milestone—something likely to recur—he was more worried than ever about what this would do to him.
Ethan might not look the part, but he had always been quite ambitious—though also realistic.
He understood exactly what he was and wasn’t capable of.
He had once fought for a promotion; while more capable people secured theirs based largely on seniority, he would have had to wait another two years just to try his luck.
Now, however, killing scum—or ending the suffering of those on the brink of death—helped him attain superhuman power.
But the price was that he was gradually losing himself.
“Once I max out all my attributes, Willpower will be my focus.” Ethan made his decision; he needed to fortify his will and refuse to let all this slaughter and cruelty drag him deeper into the abyss.
Ethan was afraid—terrified—of what this world would turn him into.
And looking at his hands—that cursed blood that won’t stop dripping.
…
Time passes, and Ethan decides to take a look at the jammed highway.
Many people have already abandoned their vehicles and are running with their families between the rows of cars.
Accidents have occurred—the cause of the traffic jam.
Zombies emerging from the woods or from previous crashes; chaos—that is what the place is turning into.
Ethan had foreseen this when he arrived.
Hatchet in hand, he kills the zombies, urging people to flee.
He sees people who have been bitten; knowing they are doomed anyway, he whispers an apology as he draws a suppressed weapon and ends their lives.
Ethan needs those points; the more levels he gains, the larger his inventory becomes, allowing him to carry more resources and help more people in the future.
He also needs [Allies].
Clark and Jerome are nearby; surveying the surrounding pandemonium with [Radar Sense] active, he moves forward, knowing he’ll surpass the 200-kill mark tonight.
People are knocked down and begin to be devoured.
Ethan kills the attackers, though in some cases, he arrives too late.
Soon, he is armed with a rifle, leaping across vehicles and pushing [Radar Sense] to its limit—firing, reloading, firing again.
Amidst the fray, a familiar figure appears.
His senses lock onto that person: none other than Shane Walsh, accompanied by Lori and Carl Grimes.
There is a massive RV, and an elderly man looking on in terror at the chaos.
Someone calls out to him: “Dale?”
At that very moment, the roar of engines tears through the sky.
The chaos below somehow pauses, and all attention shifts toward Atlanta.
Fighter jets drop napalm onto the city streets; it is chaos—pure, delirious chaos.
Ethan watches in horror.
He knew this would happen, yet he had prayed it wouldn’t.
For this would formally mark the end of society as they knew it.
It signals that the government has abandoned the population—that those bastards are holed up in secure bunkers while the rest of the world burns.
“This officially marks the end of the world.” Ethan looks up at the sky and closes his eyes; the chaos below rages on, offering the survivors only a few fleeting seconds of respite.
Ethan keeps firing, mowing down the bitten and the mutilated just as he does the zombies.
He hauls aside people who don’t appear infected, ordering them to get off the road.
Chaos and death.
‘The perfect place for someone like me.’ Ethan thinks sarcastically as the death toll climbs.
He spots a grown man pathetically shoving a woman into the clutches of the dead to save himself.
Ethan doesn’t hesitate to blow the man’s brains out, though he had tried to save the woman first—only to find she had already been bitten.
Drawn by the gunfire, a swarm of zombies closes in, but he fends them off with an axe in one hand.
Meanwhile, he pours the levels he gains into Constitution, aiming for maximum stamina and regeneration.
It took five levels for his Constitution to reach 10.
By then, the death toll had already hit 170.
Yet, the slaughter didn’t stop.
We are talking about thousands of people scattering and zombies swarming everywhere; he knows he must make the most of this, because finding other people will become increasingly difficult later on.
And he isn’t doing this solely for extra levels and abundant EXP.
He needs to whittle down the zombie population as much as possible.
Even as a lone individual, he possesses peak physical capabilities—he can drastically reduce their numbers and offer hope to others.
What was missing at the start of The Walking Dead were people like the Governor—people who understood the situation and fought back instead of just hiding.
He didn’t cower before the dead; he gathered people, cordoned off streets, protected the populace, and built a strong community.
If the Governor hadn’t been such an asshole—power-hungry and, later, consumed by a thirst for vengeance—he could have built something lasting.
Like it or not, Ethan models himself after him—not as a person, but as a leader.
In the early days of the apocalypse, the Governor was arguably the best leader to emerge.
He was cold and knew how to manipulate the right people to achieve goals that benefited the majority.
But, in the end, he lost himself to his own madness.
He realizes that by killing as many as possible and thinning out the infected in an area teeming with the living, he can create opportunities for capable survivors.
Unfortunately, terrible people—looters and rapists—might also emerge.
But he isn’t a god.
He can control the damage now, and manage the outcomes later.
PART 3
Wednesday, September 8th.
Day 15 of the Apocalypse.
Even at the dawn of a new day, Ethan hasn’t stopped.
He wanders through the forest, heading primarily toward Linden County.
He kills the infected and grants the gift of mercy to the suffering.
He is a mobile predator, hunting and killing everything that crosses his path.
He saves those worthy of salvation and points them in the right direction, though he doesn’t guide them personally—he simply doesn’t have the time.
After Constitution, Ethan focused on Dexterity.
He got incredibly lucky; in just three levels, he maxed out his Dexterity.
By this point, he had already reached a kill count of 200. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
With both CON and DEX at the human limit, his efficiency with firearms and melee weapons is surreal.
He was already an “artist” who painted with death, but now he is a dancer amidst a forest of death, moving as if he were right at home.
[Lightfooted] reached Level 4, alongside [Sprint].
With both, he not only runs faster and consumes less stamina while doing so, but he also makes less noise as he moves—a bonus derived from having a DEX of 10.
[Nimble] jumped to Level 5.
Coupled with his rapid movement and flexibility, his combat effectiveness and ability to reposition are flawless; combined with [Radar Sense], which grants him a three-dimensional view of his surroundings, he always knows exactly where to go.
Amidst all this, [Sneaking] remained at Level 3, though it was close to hitting Level 4.
But the best part was acquiring a new skill: [Acrobatics].
It emerged because he was running so fast that he began kicking off trees and zombies, spinning in mid-air and pushing his physical limits to the max.
Of course, there were still shortcomings, so his next target after DEX was Agility.
It took four levels to go from 6 to 10.
Now, only Strength and Charisma remain for him to reach a score of 10 in every stat.
Ethan gasps, exhausted.
He doesn’t stop killing.
But at that moment, something rare happens.
[New Mission!]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
[ MISSIONS ]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Eradicate the Plague
• Progress: 1,233 / 1,000,000
• Reward: [Unknown]
Pinnacle of Strength
• Condition: Reach 10 in all attributes.
• Time Limit: 15 / 30 Days
• Reward: Bunker Location + Key.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Ethan raises an eyebrow.
Slowly, he picks up his radio.
“Clark, you copy?”
<> “Ethan?
Finally, man.
Where are you?!
Holy shit, it’s crazy down here!
Did you see?
Atlanta got firebombed.”
“Yeah, I was out on the highway rescuing people and taking out the infected.
I saw it all…
they dropped napalm.”
<> “When are you coming back?”
“I’m working on it.
Pass the word to everyone: I don’t want anyone out on the streets.
Block off as many roads as possible with vehicles and don’t let anyone enter or get near the school.
If anyone does get in, I want them isolated and screened; I don’t want any accidents when I get back.
I want everyone alive.”
<> “No problem.
But what are you doing?
Dina misses you.”
Ethan flinches at the mention of that; he takes a deep breath.
“I’m doing what needs to be done.
I’ll be back tomorrow; there are a lot of people who need saving, and I have the ability to help them.”
<> “Okay.
Stay safe, my friend—come back in one piece.”
Ethan doesn’t reply and puts the radio away.
“I haven’t been in one piece for a long time…”
Ethan downs an energy drink, and having rested enough, he checks his XP: 2,374.
He looks at his Fitness stat—it recently went up, and he needs 2,500 XP to level up again.
Obviously, there’s no way he could have gained 126 points of progress between yesterday and today; he’d only gained 5.
He chuckles; he needs to kill more.
…
Ethan has another 15 days to max everything out; he needs just 6 more points.
Enemies fall in droves—groups of survivors who had miraculously banded together, only to find themselves fighting the dead and panic.
When Ethan encounters them, he grunts and tries to help.
Many recognize him as the “axe maniac.” Ethan saves them, using his weapon to kill anyone who has been bitten.
He says nothing else and runs off.
This happens repeatedly.
His level rises; it won’t be long before his inventory reaches a 3-ton capacity.
It took just one level-up for Ethan to go from 8 to 10 in Strength—a stroke of colossal luck.
His inventory capacity surpassed 3.4 tons.
And as late afternoon approached, it took another 4 levels for his Charisma to reach 10.
[Mission “Pinnacle of Strength” completed.]
In seconds, his keychain glowed and a new key was added; then his [Map] opened, and a point of interest appeared in the darkness near Atlanta—about 33 km east of the city.
Seeing this, Ethan—gasping heavily and trembling with exhaustion—slowly consumes 2,493 EXP.
His Fitness stat rises from Level 6 to 7, effectively reaching Level 10, his cap.
He now needs 5,000 EXP for Level 8, which would push him to Level 11—beyond human limits.
With this improvement, his stamina increases and his fatigue—previously at 88%—drops below 50%.
However, he is still suffering from negative status effects: [Muscle Fatigue (III)], [Overexertion (III)], [Sore Wrists (II)]…
Ethan has sustained numerous bruises, largely from the wild, acrobatic maneuvers that allowed him to move like a ghost.
And now…
“That’s enough,” Ethan says, the death toll having officially reached 300.
He had poured points into Willpower, but to no avail regarding his progression.
Perhaps, if he pushed himself, he could gain another 3 or 4 levels.
But honestly—with nearly 5 tons of inventory weight and his body in such a wretched state—he simply can’t go on.
He follows the map out of the forest, leaving the panicked, fleeing crowd to their own devices.
Ethan has done all he could.
Now, he has 3 Ally Slots available; he can generate three super-soldiers—loyal to the core—to help him control communities in the future.
Ethan pulls out a fresh pack of cigarettes, lights one up, and relaxes as he gets his motorcycle onto the road.
He climbs on and rides back home, knowing more trouble awaits him there.
Refugees—and a surge of zombies pouring out of the forest.
But since his town is in a reasonably good spot, the bombing of Atlanta will draw a large portion of the zombies concentrated in the neighboring city toward that area, even if they likely spread out later on.
The forests near Atlanta will become a sea of death.
Ethan needs to dig those trenches fast and get his hands on more excavators.
“I’ll handle it tomorrow,” he grunts, cracking his neck.