Ye Fan stood at the window, his gaze fixated on the motorcycle stationed below. A vivid green hue adorned its body, with a sidecar signaling its distinction. The craftsmanship exuded quality, a stark departure from ordinary motorcycles. In different circumstances, Ye Fan might have marveled at such a sight, but the grim reality outside stifled any sense of awe.
"In a world overrun by zombies, motorcycles are hardly a safe mode of transportation."
"My legs and feet can't ride a motorcycle for the time being."
"Sir, there is a small medical kit in your military satchel, suitable for use now."
With these words, Ye Fan hurriedly retrieved the medical box from his military satchel. A white box with green stripes opened to reveal a trove of supplies: bandages, hemostatic medicine, anti-swelling and blood-stasis medicine, anti-inflammatory medicine, syringes, and a bottle resembling red gel.
"Commander's medical kit (squad leader level): It includes common medicines and a bottle of anti-viral serum. The serum can save humans before they enter 50% of zombie transformation."
The mention of the anti-viral serum piqued Ye Fan's interest. In a world tainted by the zombie virus, this serum could be his lifeline. The realization that he possessed the means to fend off infection brought a glimmer of hope amid the chaos.
"Sir, these ordinary medicines may be common to others, but as the supreme commander, their effectiveness is increased by 200%. Now you can bandage your ankles."
Ye Fan's ankle, previously a source of agony, became the focal point of attention. With deft movements, he applied the medicine and wrapped it in a bandage. A soothing coolness enveloped his ankle, and the pain subsided, prompting an exclamation of amazement.
"Hey! This is really amazing."
With his foot on the path to recovery, Ye Fan reveled in the newfound sense of mobility. The Red Alert system's medical advancements had not only accelerated the healing process but also boosted his confidence.
"Is this black technology that belongs to Red Alert?"
"This is the special authority of the commander."
Acknowledging the system's capabilities, Ye Fan proceeded to don his uniform. The camouflage attire, tailored to fit his physique, accentuated his stature. As he examined the ensemble – hat, epaulettes, armed belt, and military boots – a sense of pride washed over him.
"Although I am not a real sergeant squad leader, I look quite comfortable. The only drawback is that I am just a commander and have no subordinates."
A longing to deploy combat units and engage in strategic maneuvers filled Ye Fan's thoughts. However, caution prevailed. The world outside harbored formidable challenges – relentless zombies with an insatiable appetite for human flesh.
Ye Fan's attention turned to the kitchen, where he sought makeshift weapons for self-defense. A machete and a dagger became his arsenal, but the addition of a steel pipe, transformed into a makeshift spear, hinted at a desire for more formidable armaments.
"This dagger is a Mongolian knife. The workmanship is pretty good, but I don't know if it can pierce the skull of a zombie?"
Ye Fan, mindful of the impending danger, refrained from venturing outside immediately. His ankle, while on the mend, necessitated rest. A search within the confines of his home unearthed a modest supply of food – instant noodles, rice, eggs, sausages, and pickled mustard.
"We need to get some water. After a while, tap water may be contaminated."
While utilities still functioned, Ye Fan boiled water and filled a bucket stored in his military satchel – a testament to the satchel's utility with its one cubic meter of space. Practicality became paramount as survival instincts took hold.
He prepared a simple yet satisfying meal – three packs of instant noodles, poached eggs, and a sausage. The taste, heightened by the backdrop of an apocalyptic world, imbued the mundane with newfound flavor.
"Maybe it's the end of the world, and people are becoming more easily satisfied."
Sated and mindful of his priorities, Ye Fan set an alarm for ten in the morning. The Red Alert system's daily bullet refresh at noon informed this decision.
"The end of the world, and I'm setting alarms."
The specter of loneliness loomed as Ye Fan ruminated on his family – parents and sister – scattered in different locations. The need to confirm their well-being gnawed at him, an emotional anchor in a sea of uncertainty.
"When I have the strength to leave here, I must go find them. No matter what, I want to confirm whether they are still alive."
With these thoughts echoing in his mind, Ye Fan drifted into a restless sleep, anticipation mingling with the dread of the unknown.
The alarm clock, an unwelcome herald of reality, shattered the silence at ten o'clock the next morning. Ye Fan, propelled into consciousness, rose to a world bereft of dreams. The eerie stillness outside reminded him that yesterday's surreal experience was a grim reality.
Just as the weight of the situation settled upon him, Nana's voice echoed, "Good morning, sir."
"Morning, Nana."
"Sir's foot has basically recovered."
A surge of relief accompanied this revelation. Ye Fan's agile movements confirmed the improvement in his condition, and his mood lifted.
"Sir, please collect gold and silver as soon as possible to start the production of combat units, unlock buildings, defenses, technology arms, etc. You also need to upgrade your military rank to unlock them."
"OK."
Ye Fan, fortified by the system's enhancements and newfound strength, contemplated the imminent task. In a world teeming with zombies, courage became the currency of survival.
"In the end of the world, if you don't even have the courage to face zombies, you are not qualified to live."
With resolve kindling within, Ye Fan embarked on the next phase of his journey. The mission: collect gold and silver for the survival and prosperity of the burgeoning Red Alert system.
As he opened the door with cautious intent, uncertainty and danger lurked beyond the threshold, yet the "handsome commander" strode forth into the unknown. The odyssey had begun.