On the future evolutionary forums, there was a general consensus among many seasoned evolutionaries: for most, two factors played the largest roles in determining their strength.
One was talent, and the other was profession.
Talents would manifest after the Cosmic Will—the so-called "system"—descended upon the world, as long as one didn't become a zombie.
But professions, especially the hidden and powerful ones, were far rarer and more coveted.
Novak, having lived through the apocalypse before, knew the requirements to unlock several powerful hidden professions, as well as the specific dungeons where they could be found.
Yet, this knowledge wasn't useful to him now.
At this point, his only option was to focus on talent.
After the arrival of the Cosmic Will, all talents, items, skills, and professions would be ranked from F to SSS tier.
Anything ranked S or higher was unique.
Those who possessed items, skills, or talents of such high rank often found themselves under the scrutiny of the gods. And when it came to SSS-tier items, even the gods themselves coveted them.
Novak knew this all too well. In his previous life, he had been killed by the Dark Mother Goddess—despite her fondness for him—because of a battle over a fragment of an SSS-tier item.
The mere fragment had been priceless, so the full item's worth was unimaginable.
But how could he awaken his talent within these crucial ten days and evolve it into an SSS-tier talent—one of the rarest among billions?
Novak pondered deeply.
In his past life, some evolutionary forum posts had analyzed how talents worked, advising people to explore their hidden abilities and try to fully unleash them during the pre-apocalyptic phase. While this advice might have sounded vague or impractical to others—since no one knew their talent's true potential before awakening—Novak had an advantage.
He had already lived through the apocalypse.
And he knew exactly what his talent was.
[Virus Resistance (E-tier Talent): Your constitution differs from ordinary humans. Bacterial or viral infections struggle to breach your immune system. Even the basic zombie virus finds it difficult to kill or assimilate you.]
At first glance, it seemed strong. But in reality, virus resistance was only useful in the early stages of the apocalypse, where the zombie virus was the most prominent threat.
The talent offered no boost to his combat abilities, which was the real problem.
In his previous life, Novak had pondered countless times how to make the most of this lackluster talent.
Now, fate had given him another chance to figure it out.
The time for hesitation had passed. In this brutal world, even a 10% chance of gaining power was worth risking everything.
And Novak wasn't just looking to survive. He craved strength—enough to spit in the faces of the gods, enough to force the Dark Mother Goddess to kneel before him and beg for mercy. If he didn't have the courage to fight for that, he might as well throw himself off a building before the apocalypse even began.
So how could he maximize his talent's potential and push it beyond its basic limits?
The answer was simple.
——
That night, a lone figure moved through the dimly lit corridors of the Ateneo de M-anila University's Affiliated Hospital.
Novak adjusted the brim of his cap, slipping through the quiet hallways with practiced ease. After discreetly gathering some information, he headed directly to a special ward on the third floor.
At this hour, most of the patients' families had gone home, and the halls were nearly empty.
Entering the ward, Novak found the patient lying in the bed, seemingly unconscious from a severe fever.
To any ordinary observer, the person in the bed might appear to be in a regular, comatose state. But Novak could see what others could not. Beneath the patient's skin, small worm-like bulges occasionally squirmed, and their fingernails had already begun to gray and sharpen.
This was no ordinary patient—this was the early stage of zombification.
Novak had encountered far too many zombies in his previous life to be fazed by the sight.
Without hesitation, he retrieved a syringe from his pocket.
Novak carefully inserted the syringe into a prominent purple vein on the patient's arm.
With a soft hum, the dark red and black liquid was slowly drawn into the syringe.
In just ten seconds, Novak adjusted his cap and left the ward as if nothing had happened. Without a trace of hesitation, he exited the Affiliated Hospital of Ateneo de M-anila University.
When he returned to the dormitory, his roommates still hadn't come back. They were most likely still in the internet cafe, absorbed in their games.
Novak couldn't help but feel a pang of pity. Their carefree days had only ten more sunsets left before everything would change forever.
But he didn't care about them. He and his roommates had different paths. The shallow bond they shared in the dormitory meant little to him.
In his previous life, Novak had lived for decades in the wasteland of the apocalypse. An orphan, without family or anyone to rely on, he had become emotionally distant. If someone greeted him, he would greet them back, but he wouldn't go out of his way to invest in relationships.
The moon shone brightly that night.
The cool, white light spilled through the window, illuminating the bedroom even though the lights were off.
Despite the years of violence and bloodshed he had endured in his previous life, despite the cold, calculating calm he had cultivated over decades, Novak couldn't shake the small wave of anxiety coursing through him.
He knew that in the next few moments, there was no guarantee he would live to see the sunrise.
The zombie virus was no ordinary virus. It had unparalleled transmission power and an almost absolute lethality.
But the most terrifying aspect was that after death, the infected would rise again, continuing to spread the virus even as corpses.
There was no other virus like it.
No disease that attacked human organs or ravaged the immune system could compare to this unknown force—the zombie virus.
Novak had only dared to take this risk because he knew his talent: Virus Resistance. As the apocalypse approached, he could feel it activating. If it weren't for this confidence, he never would have considered injecting himself.
But what if?
What if his talent couldn't fully activate in time? What if this gamble cost him his one chance at rebirth?
He knew the future. He could grow stronger gradually, step by step, without taking such extreme risks. Was it really worth pushing himself so hard?
The thought crossed his mind for only a moment before Novak crushed it.
Nothing in the apocalypse came with a 100% guarantee. If he wanted power, if he wanted to rewrite his fate, he needed to be willing to push beyond his limits. To hesitate now would mean forfeiting everything.
In the future, opportunities like this—simple yet powerful—wouldn't come around again.
Taking a deep breath, Novak steeled himself. He pulled out the syringe, the dark red blood still swirling within it. With one last glance at the glowing moon outside his window, he drove the needle into his own arm.
As the final drop of infected blood entered his veins, Novak's face instantly went pale.
It was as though all the strength had been drained from his body at once.
Fighting the urge to collapse, he used the last of his energy to stagger into the bathroom. He threw the syringe into the toilet and flushed it away, watching it vanish into the sewer.
And then, it hit him.
His blood felt as if it had been set on fire.
Every vein, every artery in his body seemed to twist and writhe in agony. His heartbeat pounded like a heavy drum against his chest, each thud more painful than the last.
Finally, Novak could no longer hold on. His legs gave out, and he collapsed face-first onto his bed.