"Heh, when it rains, it pours. Seems like today is truly my unlucky day!"
Although Anirudh had figured out why these zombies were here, that knowledge meant little now. Watching as the zombies surged toward him from all directions, getting closer and closer, he let out a bitter laugh, a sense of despair rising in his heart.
If he were at his peak, he might still have a chance against these seven or eight zombies. But now… all he could hope for was to take a few of them down with him before he died.
Anirudh had never been one to give up easily. Even now, in the face of certain death, he forced himself to his feet, gripping the broken crowbar in his hand tightly as he faced the encroaching horde.
The zombie closest to him was a female, judging by her tattered white office attire. She had likely been a corporate employee, but now her once pristine uniform was soaked in dark, clotted blood. Her face retained traces of beauty, but her pale neck and chest were torn to shreds, blood and flesh mangled and horrifying.
"Die!"
To Anirudh, it didn't matter if they were male or female. Once they became zombies, they were his enemies!
Just as he had once approached corpses in his forensic work, without regard for gender or status—dead was dead.
Before the female zombie could lunge at him, Anirudh roared and mustered his remaining strength, thrusting the broken crowbar toward her head like a makeshift spear. He aimed for a single decisive strike, knowing he lacked the energy for prolonged combat.
But Anirudh had overestimated himself.
Weakened and drained of energy, his thrust hit the zombie's face but failed to pierce her skull. The jagged end of the crowbar scraped away flesh but was stopped by her cheekbone.
"Damn it!"
His heart sank. This level of injury was nothing to a zombie. If she retaliated now or even grabbed him, the others would swarm him in an instant, tearing him apart.
Anirudh tried to retreat, but dizziness from blood loss clouded his vision. Though he managed to steady himself without falling, it was too late to evade.
"So… this is the end, huh…?"
The pain and weakness coursing through his body filled Anirudh with despair.
But then, something unexpected happened.
Despite his blunder, the female zombie didn't attack. Instead, she froze in place, trembling as if seized by fear.
Not just her—all the zombies within five meters of him halted. They stood still, shivering, as though Anirudh was no longer prey but… a master.
"What… is going on?"
Anirudh was stunned. Could this be a hallucination caused by blood loss?
The pain and exhaustion grounding him proved it was real. The zombies were genuinely terrified of him.
No, perhaps not terrified of him.
A sudden realization dawned on him, and his gaze shifted to the bloody severed tongue still embedded in his shoulder.
That monstrous red creature from earlier had been far stronger than ordinary zombies—possibly a leader or some higher-level variant. Could it be that the severed tongue, imbued with the creature's aura, was tricking the zombies into perceiving him as their superior?
"I'm not doomed yet!"
Hope reignited in Anirudh's chest. If these zombies dared not oppose him, he might even be able to kill them all and use the opportunity to push his "Ancient Body Tempering Technique" to the small success stage.
From "harbinger of death" to "savior"—what a twist that would be.
Taking a deep breath, Anirudh steadied himself. Gripping the crowbar tightly, he aimed for the eye socket of the female zombie and thrust it with all his might.
Squish!
This time, there was no mistake. The crowbar pierced the zombie's eye, driving deep into her brain. With a wet squelch, blood and viscous fluids splattered as the zombie collapsed, lifeless.
As she fell, a faint blue light emerged from her body, merging into Anirudh's. A sliver of energy coursed through him, easing his exhaustion.
"Ah…"
The influx of strength relieved Anirudh somewhat. He pulled the crowbar free and cautiously eyed the remaining zombies.
To his relief, the severed tongue's influence appeared stronger than he'd anticipated. Even after he killed one of their own, the zombies didn't resist or flee. They merely trembled, rooted in place.
Anirudh exhaled deeply, gripping the crowbar as he systematically dispatched the rest of the motionless zombies.
As a forensic expert, Anirudh knew precisely how to kill with the least effort. Years of dissecting corpses left him unfazed by the gore, enabling him to swiftly and efficiently eliminate the remaining seven or eight zombies.
By the time the last one fell, the surrounding streets had grown eerily quiet. No more zombies appeared nearby, though faint gunshots and roars echoed in the distance—likely from the hospital.
Whatever was happening there was beyond his ability to intervene.
Having slain over thirty zombies, Anirudh felt his body reach a breaking point. His "Ancient Body Tempering Technique" was on the verge of a breakthrough, his energy building to dangerous levels. His entire body felt as though it might burst.
"The technique is about to reach the small success stage…"
Excitement mixed with apprehension. While the "Ancient Body Tempering Technique" promised to reshape his physique and unlock immense potential, breakthroughs carried inherent risks. Normally, practitioners would retreat to safety for such milestones, ensuring no interruptions.
But Anirudh was severely injured and infected with zombie toxins. Success was uncertain. He had to return home immediately.
Steeling himself, he staggered to a nearby electric scooter, started it, and sped toward his home. The journey was unnervingly smooth—no zombies blocked his path, likely deterred by the severed tongue's aura.
Once home, Anirudh locked the door and retrieved a surgical kit. The severed tongue, though a blessing, was also a ticking time bomb. It had to be removed before his breakthrough.
"Alright… let's do this."
Stripping off his shirt, Anirudh took a deep breath, gripping the surgical tools as he faced the mirror. With painstaking care, he began cutting away the tongue's barbs embedded in his flesh.
Though tedious, the process was painless. His left arm, infected by the zombie virus, was completely numb.
When the barbs were finally severed, Anirudh braced himself. The true challenge lay ahead.
"Here goes nothing!"
With gritted teeth and a fierce resolve, Anirudh gripped the tongue and yanked it free in one swift motion.
Squelch!
Blood sprayed as the tongue tore free, pain crashing over him like a tidal wave. His vision blurred, and his knees buckled, but he bit his tongue to stay conscious.
He couldn't afford to pass out—not yet.