NOVEL NEXT CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 3: The Tower's Arrival
Lu Ming descended the stairs, each footstep echoing through the stillness of his fortified home. Before him loomed the front door—a custom-made barricade, reinforced with five heavy locks. It was more than just a door; it was a testament to his extreme caution—or perhaps his paranoia.
The doorbell’s shrill ring broke the silence. "Ding-dong. Ding-dong."
Lu Ming turned towards the wall-mounted monitor, his eyes narrowing as he observed the two delivery men standing on his doorstep. Their uniforms matched, and their fidgeting hands betrayed a mix of impatience and unease.
“Just leave the package at the door,” his voice crackled through the speaker, amplified and authoritative.
A flicker of surprise crossed their faces. One of them spoke up, his voice a blend of confusion and professionalism.
“Sir, the package is rather heavy. We’re actually responsible for installation.”
Lu Ming shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“No need,” he replied. “I’ll handle it myself.”
The men exchanged a glance, then shrugged. If the customer was willing to do the heavy lifting, they weren’t about to argue. Lu Ming waited, watching the monitor until they turned and left. Only once their figures disappeared from view did he unlock the door and step outside.
Before him was a mountain of packages, precariously stacked on the doorstep. Inside were barbells, dumbbells, weight plates, a gantry frame, back pullers, and more—everything he needed to turn his home into a fully functional gym. A small fortune in equipment, weighing tons altogether.
With sleeves rolled up and muscles straining, Lu Ming began hauling the heavy boxes inside, one by one. His breath came in ragged gasps, but he didn’t stop. Each item dragged inside filled him with a growing sense of satisfaction. His makeshift gym on the second floor was about to get a significant upgrade.
Half an hour later, sweat dripped from his brow as he stood amidst the mountain of boxes now piled in the entryway. A triumphant grin crossed his face.
“With all this equipment,” he mused, “and the knowledge I’ve gathered, maybe I can accelerate my training.”
The word "maybe" lingered in the air. Despite his meticulous preparation, the uncertainty of the future still loomed. Yet, Lu Ming’s conviction in the impending apocalypse was unshaken. To him, wealth was nothing more than a means to survive the trials to come. There was no regret for the expense, only determination.
He began mentally drafting his fitness program for tomorrow, carefully considering every detail. But his thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a violent tremor beneath his feet.
The tremor was sudden and fierce, shaking the house to its core. For a moment, Lu Ming froze, stunned. Then, instinctively, he turned towards the open door.
In the distance—about ten kilometers away—the city center was in chaos. The ground trembled violently as a massive black tower burst from the earth, rising higher and higher until it dwarfed the surrounding skyscrapers. It pierced the clouds, casting a shadow over the city—a monolithic structure that dominated the skyline.
Cries of astonishment and terror filled the air. The people of Nanxiang City had never seen anything like it.
Lu Ming remained silent, his initial shock quickly replaced by cold resolve. He moved to the door and slammed it shut.
Bang!
The heavy door closed with a loud thud, the sound echoing through the house.
Click, click, click, click, click.
One by one, five locks engaged, sealing the entrance. His fingers glided across the electronic screen, triggering a faint buzzing sound as iron panels slid into place over the windows on both floors, completely barricading the house.
The world outside was plunged into chaos, but inside, Lu Ming’s house was silent—secure, insulated from the madness.
Leaning back against the door, Lu Ming spoke softly to himself, his voice a low murmur in the eerie stillness.
“Well, come on. Doomsday.”
His chilling words hung in the air, a grim acknowledgment of the unknown horrors that were about to unfold. Memories of the Black Mist Tower incident in New York flashed through his mind. There had been no communication from the trapped city, and the mystery surrounding it only deepened the sense of dread.
But there was no fear in Lu Ming’s heart. He had prepared for this. His home was fortified, his supplies were plentiful, and now, as the world edged towards disaster, he was ready.
The moment the tower appeared, Black Mist had already isolated the area. No one could enter, and no one could leave. Lu Ming remembered the reports—fighter jets deployed by the Amelia military had disappeared into the mist, never to return. Communication within the zone was completely cut off.
Was the information he’d seen online real or fake? He didn’t know. But when Lu Ming checked his phone and computer, the truth was undeniable: communication was down, and the internet was dead.
Lu Ming quickly went to the second floor, peering through the observation hole in the iron plate that covered the window.
From his vantage point, he could see the black tower in the distance. It had stopped growing at a tremendous height—around a thousand meters, by his estimate.
He moved to another window for a different angle. Oddly, there was no black mist in sight.
“Maybe it only surrounds the outskirts of the quarantine zone,” Lu Ming speculated. He had no intention of testing the theory, though. Venturing outside would be too dangerous.
He scanned the street below through the observation hole. It was nearing seven in the evening, and the usual bustle of the urban village was gone. Neighbors, usually out for evening walks or enjoying their meals, had stopped everything to stare at the looming tower. Bewilderment and fear filled their faces.
Suddenly, a scream tore through the stillness.
"A zombie!"
The panicked cry echoed from down the street.
"Dad, our dad is alive!"
"Don’t bite me, old man!"
"A zombie! It's a zombie!!"
Lu Ming turned toward the source of the commotion. At a mourning hall nearby, an elderly man, dressed in burial garments, had risen from his coffin. He leaped out and sank his teeth into his son’s neck.
Blood sprayed, staining the hall.
Elsewhere, elderly men playing cards suddenly lost their minds. They moved with unnatural speed, attacking anyone nearby.
In moments, screams filled the air.
Even more terrifying was the sight of the son, his neck torn open, twitching on the ground. Moments later, he rose, his eyes wide and glowing with an unnatural light.
A sickening cracking noise came from his body as he lunged at a passerby, biting and tearing into them.
Amid the chaos, Lu Ming let out a breath. “Well… that’s fine.”
Murmuring to himself, he pulled up a chair and sat by the window, peering through the observation hole once more.
With pen and paper in hand, Lu Ming opened his notebook and carefully wrote on the first page:
[The Black Mist Tower's Doomsday Incident Record.]
He examined his neat handwriting, nodding in satisfaction. As he observed the carnage unfolding in the streets below, he began to take notes.
End of Chapter 3