The sun was beginning to set, signaling the imminent arrival of night. Fortunately, by this time of day, Nathan had almost completely finished transporting most of the essential supplies he had found in the apartments on the ninth floor.
It had taken multiple trips back and forth. At times, he even had to set his weapons aside just to carry more items. More than once, he ended up with three backpacks on him—one on his back and one in each hand. But despite the effort, he had managed to bring nearly everything he deemed crucial for his survival.
Now, he only had one last trip left with the backpack he was still carrying. Once he returned to his apartment, he planned to take a detailed inventory of everything he had gathered. Many of the things he had taken were grabbed in a rush, without checking them properly, so he needed to assess how useful his haul actually was.
Finishing the granola bar in his hand, he stood up from the chair where he had been resting. This would be his final trip from the ninth floor to his base, and he hoped he wouldn't have to return anytime soon. That was his last thought before heading up the stairs, gripping his bat tightly.
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Once inside his base, Nathan began a thorough review of everything he had gathered. Next to his toolbox, there was now a solid collection of additional supplies, including several nearly full rolls of duct tape, bottles of glue, and other useful materials. He had also found multiple packs of instant noodles, canned food, and a considerable amount of junk food.
He had to admit—this time, he had managed to amass a decent stockpile. Maybe not enough to stay locked in for months without scavenging, but certainly enough to reduce the urgency of going outside in search of supplies. And this was only from the ninth floor. There were still eight more floors left to explore, meaning there was a potentially massive amount of provisions and tools waiting to be collected.
A small smile crossed his face as he realized this. Taking things step by step had been the right decision, he thought as he continued sorting through the pile of items on the floor.
Among his findings, he had also come across several books on carpentry, electrical work, and various other topics. This particular discovery struck him as incredibly valuable. Now that the internet, television, and other sources of information were no longer available, these books had become his best source of knowledge.
In a world where every skill could mean the difference between life and death, those books were worth more than gold.
There were still plenty of things left to organize, but he knew he'd be at it for a while longer.
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It had been a while since he finished organizing everything. He had also reinforced the defenses at the entrance of his apartment, which, for now, only consisted of sofas and chairs blocking the way.
After making sure everything was in place, he washed his face with a little water to clear his head and went to find something to eat. However, as soon as he opened the fridge, a foul odor hit him immediately.
Frowning, he began checking the containers, looking for anything that was still in decent condition. After a few minutes, he found one with food that seemed somewhat edible and set it aside. He checked again in case there was anything else salvageable, but he had no luck.
It wasn't a surprise. Without electricity, cooked food wouldn't last long.
"New priority: food," he muttered, closing the fridge with a sigh.
He walked over to a chair and dropped into it while eating, his expression reflecting frustration. It felt like the world had given him a brief moment of victory by letting him gather useful tools and supplies from the ninth floor, only to immediately take it away with the reality that his food was going bad.
"This is all such bullshit," he thought bitterly as he finished eating.
He needed to move faster. His top priority now was to find food and more resources before things got even worse. But before that, he had to rest. Exhaustion was weighing on him like a ton of bricks.
Turning toward the window, he looked at the sky. The night had completely swallowed the city, leaving no trace of light on the horizon. At least the gunshots and screams that had once echoed frequently were now much more occasional and distant.
He sighed, picked up the empty container, and left it in the kitchen. Then he drank some water and made his way to his bedroom.
The day had been incredibly productive, but it was time to call it a night. Tomorrow, he would start clearing out the eighth floor.
He entered his room, set his weapons near the bed, and stripped off his clothes before collapsing onto the mattress. Almost instantly, exhaustion took over him.
For the past few days, his mind had been under constant tension, never allowing himself a single moment to truly process everything that was happening. He knew suppressing his emotions would only harm him in the long run, but he also understood that letting them take over wasn't an option. Keeping a cool head was the only thing that could ensure his survival.
He closed his eyes and let his worries fade away—at least for tonight.
Tomorrow, he would deal with everything else.
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Nathan woke up early the next day. He wasn't sure of the exact time, but from the faint darkness still lingering in the sky, he could tell it was pretty early. That meant he had plenty of time to move forward with his plans.
He got dressed quickly and, without wasting time on unnecessary preparations, grabbed a couple of snack bags. Not the best option, but at least it would give him some energy to start the day. As he ate, he mentally reviewed his strategy. Today, he would clear the eighth floor—no matter what.
Finishing the last bite, he took a sip of water and grabbed his weapons. With swift, practiced movements, he removed the barricades from his apartment and stepped into the hallway.
Everything was exactly as he had left it the night before. The air was still thick with the stench of the zombies' corpses piled in one corner, but he forced himself to ignore it. Wasting time on that wasn't worth it.
Tightening his grip on the bat, he walked toward the stairs with steady, determined steps.
Today, no matter what happened, the eighth floor would be his.
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Sorry for the delay in updating, I'm currently going through a few problems that take away my time to write.
Anyway I hope soon to recover the rhythm of the updates or at least upload a chapter every other day.
Anyway I hope to upload new stories today or tomorrow and the day after tomorrow I'm sure you'll have a new chapter of this story and the fanfic of The Summoner of Legends.