Act decisively when necessary; it's better to face one than a horde. How many could there possibly be inside? Quick action is key.**
Liu Bin twisted the doorknob and opened the door—it was unlocked.
As he entered, a figure in a security uniform, severed at the waist, crawled towards him on the ground.
A rubber baton hung conveniently by the door. Perfectly placed for the taking, Liu Bin found this confrontation distressingly straightforward.
He shut the door behind him, seized the baton, and with a swift blow, shattered the crawler's head.
With the immediate threat neutralized, Liu Bin scanned the room.
To his right, the cabinet and the corners of the room were stocked with riot gear. It was time to arm himself.
After a flurry of activity, Liu Bin transformed from a defenseless civilian into a miniature 'mech' warrior, clad in protective gear.
The school was surprisingly well-equipped, even having a full riot suit available. To maximize defense without being burdened by heat and tightness, Liu Bin added cut-resistant gloves and arm guards over his black tracksuit, maintaining mobility.
Feeling secure in his gear, Liu Bin turned his attention to weaponry.
He first found a backpack and meticulously collected useful items: a flashlight, a map, a stab-resistant vest, a pack of compressed biscuits, and two unopened bottles of water.
Rejecting the riot fork for its bulk and limited utility when alone, Liu Bin opted for several more manageable rubber batons.
With his left hand equipped with a baton, his right hand now carried a plastic riot shield—mockingly termed plastic but officially known as a phalanx-style riot shield, capable of withstanding chemicals, bricks, sticks, glass, and blades.
Now fully equipped and hydrated, Liu Bin steadied his breath, ready to face the unexpected. His training had covered this gear, but practical use against a horde of zombies was a new challenge. In this scenario, he didn't have to worry about inflicting harm—here, it was kill or be killed.
Upon stepping outside, Liu Bin kept the shield forward and moved sideways, a habit that saved him when a zombie unexpectedly leaped from above.
Reacting quickly, Liu Bin used the momentum to swing his baton, hitting the zombie squarely on the forehead. Black blood splattered on his shield and helmet.
His heart pounded from the close call, the first real test of his adapted weaponry.
The noise attracted more of the undead, who began shambling towards Liu Bin.
Despite his preparedness, the situation demanded rapid adaptation. He pressed on, acutely aware of the zombies inching closer.
The brevity of his journey to the security room belied the dangers it posed. Each step was now a blend of caution and urgency, a balance between survival and bravery.
In the apocalyptic silence of the school, each echo of his steps marked a tense progression through a landscape transformed into a battlefield.