Ethan returned to his place.
It was a towering skyscraper, and his home was on the 42nd floor, right at the top.
The apartment was spotless, so clean it was almost impressive. Every item was meticulously arranged, and the minimalist design gave the whole space a refreshing, uncluttered feel.
The windows were reinforced with sturdy steel bars, perfectly sealed and unbreakable.
This was to protect him from the flying mutated beasts that had started appearing in the apocalypse, capable of launching sudden attacks.
On the roof, solar panels had already been installed. Even though Ethan was about to turn into a zombie, electricity was still an essential part of his life.
While he would lose his human physical abilities, his mind would remain intact.
To pass the time, he could still watch TV, play video games, and scroll through his phone. Through these devices, he could stay informed about the outside world and keep up with the latest developments in the apocalypse.
Everything was ready.
The countdown to the end of the world had begun.
...
The long night finally passed, and the morning light slowly spread across the land.
Ethan remembered clearly that the apocalypse would begin at 8:00 AM. He glanced at the clock on the wall. The hands pointed to 7:59.
Only one minute left.
He walked to the window and looked down at the street below.
Outside, everything seemed normal—cars filled the roads, and people were walking around, chatting and laughing, as if nothing was wrong.
The second hand of the clock ticked, slowly aligning with the minute hand. A new era was about to begin.
8:00 AM.
Suddenly, the once-bright sky was covered by an eerie red glow. The sun turned blood-red, as if the entire world had been stained with an ominous hue.
People on the street looked up, confusion written all over their faces.
"Why's the sun turning red?"
"Is this some kind of astronomical event?"
"Hurry, take a picture and post it on Facebook!"
Just then, a virtual system interface suddenly appeared in front of everyone, as if reality had instantly turned into a video game.
[Ding! Please choose: Join the Humans or the Zombies?]
Most people froze, staring blankly at the options in front of them, unsure of what to do.
After a moment of hesitation, someone slowly reached out and selected the "Human" option.
[The apocalypse game will officially start in 30 seconds. Please make your choice quickly. If there aren't enough players in the zombie faction, the system will randomly assign participants.]
The cold, mechanical voice echoed in everyone's ears, like a countdown to their doom.
Panic set in. People hurriedly chose "Human," desperately clinging to the last shred of safety they could find.
[5]
[4]
[3]
[2]
[1]
...
The countdown hit zero.
Chaos erupted. People frantically tried to confirm their choices.
But in the next moment, many of them blacked out, as if struck down by an invisible force, instantly losing consciousness.
On the streets, cars veered out of control, crashing into one another.
"Bang! Crash!"
Windows shattered, glass flying everywhere, and the streets descended into chaos. Panic spread like wildfire as people's expressions grew more frantic.
"Honey! What's wrong? Wake up!"
On the sidewalk, a woman desperately shook the man who had collapsed beside her. But when the man opened his eyes, his face had twisted into something monstrous. Without warning, he lunged at her, sinking his teeth into her neck.
"Ahhh—!!"
Her scream tore through the air as blood quickly soaked her clothes. Her body convulsed violently, her eyes rolling back as her life drained away in an instant.
Similar scenes played out all over the streets.
"Monsters! There are monsters!"
"They're zombies! Run!"
"Mom, please wake up!"
Screams, cries, and roars echoed through the city, plunging it into utter chaos.
Ethan stood by the window, and everything went black. He lost consciousness.
When he woke up again, he was no longer human.
"Ugh—"
He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a low, raspy groan. His ability to speak was completely gone.
"Just as I thought…"
Ethan mused silently. His body had undergone a massive transformation, and many of his functions were lost.
Even the 10-inch DICK he had once been so proud of was now unresponsive.
"Looks like I'll need to evolve before I can get that back," he thought.
He turned to look at the mirror in the living room. His reflection hadn't changed much, except for his skin, which had turned pale as paper, devoid of any color, giving him a sickly, eerie appearance.
As a zombie, his limbs were stiff, his movements slow, and he had almost no sense of pain.
At this point, he was slower than an average human.
If he were to classify himself based on the levels from his previous life, he was now just a lowly D-class zombie—a rookie.
However, some of his senses had become sharper. His hearing and sense of smell were now incredibly acute, his nails had hardened into sharp, iron-like blades, and his teeth were strong enough to tear through flesh with ease.
Ethan picked up an apple from the table and took a small bite.
The once-familiar sweetness and crispness were now tasteless, like chewing on a piece of dry wax.
"Disgusting…" he muttered under his breath, frowning slightly.
Worse yet, the apple didn't satisfy his hunger. Instead, it only intensified the emptiness inside him. His stomach churned, craving something far more primal—flesh.
Ethan slowly walked toward the dining table. Despite his stiff movements, he still carried himself with his usual grace.
He picked up a pristine white napkin and carefully tied it around his neck, as if preparing for a fine dining experience.
From his spatial storage ring, he retrieved a slab of fresh, raw beef and placed it on a plate.
Then, he picked up a knife and fork, meticulously cutting the beef into small pieces, just as he would have in a high-end restaurant.
Each slice was precise and deliberate, as though he were still the gentleman dining in luxury.
He speared a piece of raw beef with his fork and slowly brought it to his mouth.
His teeth easily tore through the meat, and the blood burst in his mouth, carrying a sweetness he had never tasted before.
"This… this is what I need," Ethan thought to himself. The taste of raw meat was unexpectedly exquisite, far surpassing any cooked food he had ever eaten.
Outside, the world was still in chaos. The streets were filled with screams, cries, and the growls of zombies.
But Ethan paid no attention to any of it.
He was focused on the meal in front of him, savoring each bite of raw beef.
As he continued to eat, he could feel energy building up inside him, and his body was quietly changing.
The more he ate, the more agile his limbs became, and his strength steadily increased.
The steel knife and fork in his hands, once sturdy and unyielding, now felt fragile. With just a little pressure, he could easily bend them.
But he didn't stop. He kept eating, plate after plate, as if his stomach were a bottomless pit that could never be filled.
Time passed without him noticing, and the streets outside gradually grew quieter. The cries of humans faded away, replaced by the low growls and snarls of zombies.
The city had fallen. Only a few survivors remained, clinging to life.
Ethan, however, was still lost in his own world, focused solely on the delicious meal before him.
He ate a total of fifteen plates of beef before he finally felt somewhat full.
But even then, his stomach still craved more.
The growth rate of zombies was astonishing, especially when they had access to plenty of flesh.
Ethan could feel it—his body was rapidly recovering as he ate. His movements were becoming more fluid, and his strength was far beyond that of an ordinary person.
He set down the knife and fork, untied the napkin from his neck, and moved with a smooth, graceful motion. After consuming so much meat, his body was no longer stiff, and his limbs were more flexible than they had been even before he became a zombie.
"Looks like I've leveled up…" Ethan thought to himself.
He estimated that he had now reached the level of a C-class zombie. While he was still far from the peak, he was much stronger than when he had first mutated as a D-class.
He stood up and walked over to the window, gazing down at the scene below.
The streets were a wreck, littered with broken glass, bloodstains, and scattered limbs. Zombies roamed the streets, searching for new prey.
Some zombies gathered in small groups, crouching over human corpses, fighting over the remains like wild animals, growling and snarling as they protected their food.
Occasionally, he saw survivors jumping from high buildings, trying to escape the nightmare of the apocalypse.
But their bodies were quickly devoured by the zombies below, leaving nothing behind—not even bones.
The sky was still bathed in that eerie red glow, the sun stained with blood, casting a desolate light over the apocalyptic ruins.
Ethan watched it all, feeling nothing.
None of this concerned him. He leaned lightly against the windowsill, enjoying the breeze as he picked up a glass of red wine, swirling the liquid gently.
The deep red wine swirled in the glass, mirroring the blood-red sky outside.
He took a sip, then picked up a white towel and elegantly wiped the corners of his mouth.
No matter how the world changed, elegance would never go out of style.