Huu… huu…
Yue Suran didn’t dare make a sound. Yet the moment she jerked open the curtain, a gasp escaped her lips anyway.
There was no helping it. The half-headed zombie was plastered against the glass in a grotesquely contorted posture.
No matter how much mental preparation she had done, the sight still scared her half to death.
The moment her cry rang out, the zombie snapped its head toward her, fixing its single blood-red eye directly on Yue Suran.
Smelling fresh meat, the monster—treating Yue Suran as its next meal—began pounding on the glass with frantic, escalating violence.
It was the kind of terrifying jump scare that would break anyone’s composure.
The very next second after her gasp slipped out, Yue Suran used her free hand to clamp down tightly over her mouth.
Forcing herself to calm down, she recited a continuous chant in her head:
It’s fine. It’s fine.
This is just a mindless zombie driven purely by hunger.
It’s missing half its head, so it can’t be very smart. It’ll definitely be easy to handle.
Forcing her nerves to settle, Yue Suran raised her makeshift weapon and assumed an attacking stance.
Taking advantage of the moment the zombie slammed itself against the frame, she swiftly slid open the opposite pane of glass just enough to leave a small crack.
She thrust the business end of her pole through the gap.
Closing her eyes, she clamped both hands around the end of the shaft and began wildly swinging it around.
At first, Yue Suran could feel the distinct resistance through the pole every time the cleaver made contact with flesh.
But as she kept mindlessly flailing away, that resistance eventually vanished altogether.
Yue Suran didn’t dare open her eyes. Even though she sensed something was off, she didn’t dare loosen her grip on the pole for even a fraction of a second.
Having no other choice, she tentatively asked Xiao-Ou about the situation outside.
“Xiao-Ou, check for me—is that zombie dead yet?”
“Correction: zombies cannot strictly be classified as living creatures to begin with. Besides, Host… you just poked that zombie right off the ledge.”
Xiao-Ou had wanted to speak up earlier. With Yue Suran’s wild, blind thrashing, the creature that was barely hanging on in the first place had long since been pushed off by her spear poking.
However, Xiao-Ou felt that Yue Suran needed to adapt to this post-apocalyptic world as quickly as possible if she wanted to survive for long.
Only if Yue Suran survived and adapted would it ever get a chance to return to its original dimension.
Deciding this was a good opportunity to toughen her up, Xiao-Ou had intentionally kept quiet instead of warning her.
“Huh?!”
Hearing Xiao-Ou say the zombie had already fallen down, Yue Suran finally pulled back her arms and opened her eyes.
She looked out, only to find that indeed, nothing was left except a single severed leg dangling outside the window frame…
A… a single… leg, hanging right outside her window!
Terrified out of her mind, Yue Suran dropped the pole.
Thankfully, she had pulled the pole back inside before opening her eyes; otherwise, her makeshift spear would have plunged down to the ground right along with that zombie.
Patting her chest to calm her racing heart, Yue Suran cautiously opened the window gap a little wider.
After quite a bit of effort, she managed to cut through the bedsheet wrapped around the leg. The second the fabric severed completely, the leg plunged straight down to the first floor, following its original owner.
Perhaps because second times were always easier than firsts, Yue Suran didn’t feel as overwhelmed with fear as before. She even had the mind to ask if her actions counted toward her mission.
“Xiao-Ou, hurry up and bring up the system panel! Did I complete one-tenth of the task just now?”
Xiao-Ou was equally curious about the result and quickly summoned the interface screen.
Unfortunately, the result was disappointing. The mission progress bar hadn’t moved an inch.
“Nope, not at all! Host, please keep trying—time is running short for you.”
“How is that possible?! Is there a lag in the system? Xiao-Ou, is your network connection bad or something?”
Yue Suran stared at the screen in complete disbelief.
It made no sense! She had clearly knocked that zombie straight off the building!
Don’t tell me falling from this height didn’t even smash its brain?!
Filled with doubt, Yue Suran leaned her head back out the window to check the situation—though this time, she made sure to look carefully in all directions before poking her head out.
Only after ensuring there were no other immediate threats around did she finally poke her head fully outside.
Sure enough, she spotted the creature sprawling flat on the ground below. Looking closer, the monster was still writhing. Missing one leg, it could do little more than crawl sluggishly across the pavement.
“Is it still alive even after that? What a ridiculously stubborn life force.”
No wonder everyone online kept insisting that you had to strike a zombie’s head; otherwise, they were practically unkillable roaches. As it turned out, zombies really didn’t rely on a functional central nervous system—as long as the brain remained intact, they could keep moving.
“Friendly reminder: Host has three days remaining. If the mission fails, that zombie downstairs is a living preview of your future.”
If Xiao-Ou had a physical body, it would have rolled its eyes straight to the ceiling. System lag? Bad network signal? It was an advanced high-tier intelligence; such amateur glitches simply didn’t exist in its code.
“What are you talking about? How is it possible to finish such an impossible task in just three days?!”
Yue Suran felt completely deflated. She had exhausted half her energy and couldn’t even finish off a creature that was already missing half its head. Smashing the heads of ten zombies in three days sounded like an absolute pipedream.
“You originally had five full days. Who told the Host to sleep so much like a log that no amount of calling could wake you?”
In truth, Xiao-Ou had also fallen into a dormant state immediately after the binding process and had only awakened alongside Yue Suran. However, its statement held true: the system had indeed issued the task two days prior.
As an auxiliary assistant, Xiao-Ou had no control over when tasks were released or what those tasks entailed. It certainly wasn’t its fault that an unexpected blackout occurred during binding. Besides, Yue Suran wasn’t entirely blameless either—had she not stayed up all night, she wouldn’t have squandered two whole days in bed.
“Fine, fine. What’s past is past,” Yue Suran muttered, poking sheepishly at the floating screen. How could she have anticipated that the world would turn upside down while she took a nap?
Still, figuring out how to deal with the undead remained a daunting puzzle.
The panel indicated that completing this quest would grant her a random super-powered ability. She wondered if that promise was actually genuine. If she had an ability right now, clearing out zombies would be infinitely easier.
“Xiao-Ou, do you have any good ideas?”
“Little Xiao-Ou has zero ideas! Everything depends on the Host’s own initiative.”
Xiao-Ou actually knew very little itself; it would only gain access to detailed information as new system features were unlocked.
“Then what good are you? You can’t do this, you can’t do that…” Yue Suran complained with a tinge of disappointment. In the apocalyptic web novels she read, systems were practically omnipotent—or at the very least, offered some overpowered starter perks. Unlike Xiao-Ou, who seemed to lack virtually everything.
“Little Xiao-Ou is merely an auxiliary assistant! The stronger Host becomes, the more useful Little Xiao-Ou will be~”
At its core, this was simply a property rental system, and Xiao-Ou was merely a support companion. No matter how much Yue Suran grumbled, it wouldn’t change the baseline facts. Only by leveling up the system could more functions be unlocked—and only then would it truly get to flex its capabilities.
Knowing she couldn’t rely on Xiao-Ou, Yue Suran didn’t dwell in disappointment. Just as those apocalypse stories preached, only by honing one’s own strength could one survive comfortably in a ruined world.
Over-relying on external crutches was a recipe for disaster; after all, no one could predict when danger would strike, nor could anyone guarantee they would stumble through every crisis unharmed. External aids were ultimately just tools—one’s own formidable strength was the sole reliable lifeline.
Having reached this realization, Yue Suran scanned the contents of her apartment once more. She resolved to find anything that could be repurposed into a lethal weapon, complete the system’s task as quickly as possible, and unlock her super-powered ability.
Only with an ability would she stand a real chance of thriving in a world overrun by the living dead.