What is she thinking about?
No internet, no signal, what is there to pay for?
The water and electricity will probably be automatically cut off next month.
The dog rubbed against Fu Erdie’s leg, a pet comb in its mouth, wanting her to groom its fur.
It had been nearly half a month since it was last brushed.
During these two weeks, its owner had barely even touched it.
It felt a little wronged, but it also knew something was off with its owner’s mood, so it behaved well, only occasionally seeking her attention.
Fu Erdie didn’t notice the dog’s affectionate gesture. Her gaze toward the ceiling was hollow and numb.
Suddenly, she raised her hand and threw a punch into the air, as if trying to strike away the tall, robust figure before her.
But just like in her dreams and in reality back then, her arms were too short to reach him.
Her powerless hands could only wipe away her own cowardly tears, over and over again, before she retreated to her room, forcing herself to stay composed, pretending nothing had happened.
She knew that what she had just seen was a hallucination.
For now, she could still distinguish between illusion and reality. But what about tomorrow? Or the day after?
What about a month after the food ran out?
She had enough rice to last another half a month, and the instant noodles remained untouched, enough to sustain her for a month.
A month and a half wasn’t a short amount of time, but just thinking about it already felt like torture.
She didn’t know why she was so weak, nor why, under the strong protection of her house and the greenery around her, she still felt so miserable.
She wasn’t a survivor being shielded from harm, just a coward, timidly waiting for death.
On July 20th, a large-scale power outage struck Fu Erdie’s area.
It didn’t look like an automatic power outage due to unpaid bills, it seemed more like the lines had been cut, damaged, or perhaps the power had simply been depleted.
The temperature in the air began to rise.
After placing the thermometer outside the window for five minutes, the outdoor temperature had already reached 45 degrees.
Fu Erdie powered off all her devices, leaving only the surveillance system running on its remaining battery. Through the monitor, she could still see the densely packed zombies.
In two hours, the battery would run out, and even that bit of information would be gone.
She stared blankly at the screen, then suddenly picked up her hammer again.
She had had enough.
Rather than enduring the oppression weighing on her heart, an abuse that felt like it would never pass, she would rather charge out and fight the slow-moving zombies.
The only ways to gain abilities were through external factors, air, rain, radiation, bites from ordinary zombies, bites from zombies with abilities, and so on.
She still had a month’s worth of food supplies. If, within this month, she could find a way to become an ability user, she would be able to survive.
If she died within that month, it would be no different from starving to death a month later.
The only difference was that she wouldn’t die in the grip of an unknown fear. She would die fighting.
That was enough.
If there were a mirror in front of her at that moment, she would surely notice that the numbness and pain in her eyes had faded slightly, replaced by a hint of the liveliness she had before the apocalypse.
Even the weak must fight.
Not just to survive, but to truly live.
Placing her hand on the handle of the security door, Fu Erdie took a deep breath, her gaze growing firm.
Bring it on.
She had already prepared herself for death. Now, she refused to let anything threaten her!
There were too many zombies, she couldn’t get out. Instead, she suddenly pushed the door open and swung her hammer with all her might, smashing it into a zombie’s head.
The zombies weren’t very agile or fast, but they were incredibly strong.
They swarmed forward, breaking into the house.
Fu Erdie fought while retreating, stepping back until she reached the dining table. With a single leap, she jumped onto it, using the height advantage to smash the head of any zombie that came near.
Her arms were short, but her weapon could be long.
She wasn’t tall, but she could stand high.
She had no special abilities, but she had a home to fall back on, a place that always had her back.
And more than that, she had so much love.
Her father, her mother, friends who never abandoned her.
She had so much love that even when fear reduced her to tears, she still found the courage to face her own unwillingness, until, in one moment, it erupted.
Bang.
Fu Erdie wiped the blood and tears from her face and continued smashing the next zombie’s head.
Attracted by the scent, zombies from different floors gradually made their way toward Unit 16-1.
But somehow, under the crushing pressure of the horde, the security door had forced itself shut again.
Fu Erdie moved from the dining table to the sofa, striking down zombies as she went.
The dog didn’t stay idle either. It darted in at the edges, seizing every chance to attack.
At first, its bites were chaotic and untrained. But soon, it learned exactly how to bite down at the right angle to snap a zombie’s cervical spine, leaving its head dangling uselessly. Although the zombie wouldn’t die without its head being destroyed, its vision became disoriented and reversed, stripping it of all sense of direction and making its already sluggish movements even slower.
One by one, Fu Erdie crushed the heads of the zombies surrounding her. Then she noticed the circle of zombies with their heads hanging limply. A few more swings of her hammer, and they too were finished.
The zombies inside the room had been cleared out.
Carrying her dog in her arms, Fu Erdie went to the bathroom to wash up. She noticed a deep gash on the dog’s front leg, while her own calf, abdomen, and back bore over a dozen scratches of varying sizes.
She didn’t treat them. Instead, she turned on the cold water and let it wash over herself and the dog.
The dog whimpered, trying to escape from the pain, but Fu Erdie gently held it in place.
“We both need abilities,” she explained in a low voice, not caring whether the dog could understand her. “If we’re unlucky and don’t become ability users, then at least we’ll turn into zombies clean and fresh.”
The water stung as it hit the wounds, but just as the blood was washed away, Fu Erdie noticed the blood transforming into faint white light, scattering in all directions. From outside the bathroom, more white light surged in, healing the wounds on both her and the dog.
Fu Erdie: ?
Oh, right! The apartment had healing capabilities!
She quickly finished washing herself and the dog, then ran out to take a look. The living room, now in complete disarray, was filled with green zombie “specimens.”
The branches and roots of the greenery wove around the zombies, their pale green secretions enveloping the corpses and slowly dissolving them.
The room, which had dimmed due to the power outage, suddenly lit up.
It was the ceiling lights, and also the drifting white specks of light scattered throughout the space.
On one side, hideous green zombies were dissolving; on the other, flowing lights and shadows danced, eerie yet stunning.
There had been thirty-four zombies. The greenery took four hours to dissolve them all.
Much faster than Fu Erdie had imagined.
Still, the plants seemed exhausted or spent. After absorbing the filth from the couch, they slowly retracted back into their main bodies and remained still.
Fu Erdie grabbed a broom and mop to clean up the mess.
After tidying up thoroughly from top to bottom, she made herself some egg fried rice, returned to her bedroom, and fell into a deep sleep.
That night, she slept like a log.
In her dream, she punched a mutant ability user covered in spiked armor, sending him flying with a single blow.
The next morning, Fu Erdie woke up naturally.
She felt refreshed.
Outside, the heavy rain continued to pour, but the suffocating feeling that had weighed on her was gone.
She decided that whenever she found herself overthinking, she would go out and fight some zombies.
Yesterday, her wounds and the dog’s had already healed, and neither of them had mutated.
Fu Erdie wasn’t sure if they had been healed by the apartment, which was why they didn’t turn. Today, she wanted to test it again.
Open the door, lure a zombie in, close the door, fight the zombie.
After the fight, she was covered in injuries. Holding the dog in her arms, Fu Erdie sat on the dining table and once again observed the changes in the room.
She confirmed two things. First, the “trash” in the room was all taken care of by the greenery.
Second, the blood she shed was transformed by the apartment into white light, which drifted throughout the space before returning to her body with ten times the intensity.
Fu Erdie felt a warm glow spreading through her. Closing her eyes to focus, she had a strange sensation, as if she and the apartment were becoming one.
The illusion was fleeting; it was probably just a psychological effect.
The greenery was still diligently dissolving the zombies. Once that was done, it cleaned the large furniture, like the couch, before retreating to rest.
Fu Erdie took over the remaining cleaning work.
Compared to the day before, the greenery had visibly grown.
Especially the pothos.
Before the apocalypse, it had been an ordinary, unremarkable potted plant, just a small decorative piece. Now, it had grown into a small tree.
As it rested, it emitted a faint green glow.
Unlike the white light, which was quite noticeable, this green glow spread quietly along its roots, seeping into the floor and the surrounding walls.
After finishing the cleaning, Fu Erdie carefully examined the walls.
Gradually, she noticed that the inconspicuous green specks of light were transforming into various colors.
Some resembled the white light that had healed her wounds, while others appeared blue, transparent, or purple.
Fu Erdie reached out and touched one. A white speck drifted over and circled around her fingertip twice. The other colors, however, ignored her, continuing to wander through the room before slowly fading away.
Fu Erdie gently rubbed her fingertips together, lost in thought.
There was a widespread power outage in the area, so her apartment should have been without electricity as well.
Yet after fighting the zombies yesterday, the night lights and air conditioning had turned on by themselves. All the charging ports, even the surveillance camera at the door, had been reconnected to power.
Aside from electricity, she still had normal access to water and gas.
The several water tanks and buckets she had filled on the first day of the apocalypse remained untouched.
Fu Erdie formed a hypothesis and immediately set out to test it.
She opened the window, braved the scorching heat, tied a rope around herself, and slowly made her way from her balcony to the neighboring apartment.
For now, the neighbor’s place was still relatively clean. The front door was firmly shut, showing no signs of forced entry. Each room looked exactly as it had when Fu Erdie had come by before to scavenge tools.
She turned on the faucet.
A bit of residual water sputtered out from the old pipes before falling silent.
She then went to the kitchen and tried lighting the stove. There was no gas.
Turning off the stove, Fu Erdie felt a glimmer of joy at being protected.
Her apartment had truly mutated. And it had mutated to be incredibly self-sufficient, it was as if nothing had changed from before the apocalypse.
Yet at the same time, she felt unworthy. She had something precious but couldn’t protect it. All she could do was hope that no ability user would come knocking.
Sensing the surge of negative emotions, Fu Erdie quickly shook her head.
Rather than overthinking, she should just fight zombies.
So that afternoon, she took on another wave of zombies.
Once again, she emerged covered in wounds, only to be healed by the apartment.
Perhaps because her place was the most active in the entire building, every time she cleared out one wave of zombies, another wave would show up.
Fu Erdie continued like this for over ten days. By July 31st, she had cleared out all the zombies in the entire building.
That same day, her carefully rationed two-month supply of rice finally ran out.