NOVEL NEXT CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 7: The Second Day
The apocalypse had erupted the night before. This was the second day, but for Lu Ming, it might as well have been the hundredth. He had long since disconnected from the chaos outside, as though it no longer had anything to do with him.
Through the small observation hole in the window, he could just barely glimpse the street below—desolate, with the occasional shadow of a shambling figure moving in the periphery.
“But whatever's going on out there,” he mused aloud, “it doesn’t concern me anymore.”
Lu Ming’s focus had shifted inward. The world beyond his walls was fading into insignificance, while his mind swirled with thoughts of his own progress.
The [skill panel] floated in his mind, a constant reminder of the work still ahead:
- Slingshot (Lv2 10/100)
- Archery (Lv2 7/100)
- Hand-to-hand Combat (Lv1 53/100)
He rubbed his eyes, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on him. In the late afternoon, around 5 o’clock, he had prepared a modest dinner using the cooking skills he had honed for such a crisis. But it was his relentless drive to push his hand-to-hand combat proficiency that had truly drained him.
Punch after punch against the sandbag.
The relentless thudding of his fists had echoed through the silent room for over an hour, and in the end, his proficiency had only increased by a few precious points.
- Hand-to-hand Combat (Lv1 57/100)
The progress felt agonizingly slow.
Sighing, he took a long gulp of a protein shake, the cold liquid soothing his parched throat but offering little relief for his aching body. His muscles burned, his arms trembling from the repetitive strikes against the unforgiving bag.
"Today was tiring..." he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes for a moment.
He went through the motions of his evening routine in a daze—washing up, inventorying his supplies, making mental notes for tomorrow’s training. The safe house was quiet, save for the soft hum of the electronics still running. By the time he collapsed onto his bed, the fatigue had fully overtaken him. Within seconds, his consciousness faded, dragging him into the depths of sleep.
6:00 a.m., Day 3.
Lu Ming’s eyes snapped open at precisely the same time as always. His internal clock remained unnervingly sharp, even amid the apocalypse. He stretched lazily, feeling the satisfying pull of his muscles.
“A beautiful day has begun,” he whispered to himself, though the words lacked any real enthusiasm.
The world outside had crumbled, but his routine remained steadfast. Out of bed, wash up, boil water, and cook breakfast. Mundane tasks, the kind that anchored him to reality. While going through the motions, his mind wandered, planning out the day ahead.
“Morning: workout, reading, videos. Afternoon: skill training.”
He sighed. “Another busy day.”
After a quick breakfast of oatmeal and boiled eggs, Lu Ming headed to the fitness area on the second floor. His most important task awaited: maintaining his core attributes.
Today was Tuesday. A relatively easy day. Back and shoulder exercises dominated his workout, but he still pushed his body hard, as though the end of the world hadn’t drastically changed his priorities.
By the time he finished, an hour and a half had slipped by unnoticed. His muscles were sore, but his mind was sharper than ever. With a grunt of satisfaction, he checked his attributes panel, feeling the familiar surge of anticipation.
Name: Lu Ming♂
Age: 25 years
Strength: 6.5 (7.2) ↑
Physique: 6.9 (7.6) ↑
Agility: 7.3 (8.0) ↑
[Skills]
- Fitness (Lv2 0/200): Maximum attribute points obtained every day increased by 0.2 points.
His attributes had surged. Not just the 0.6 he had expected, but 0.7. And his Fitness skill had leveled up to 2. From now on, each day would yield an extra 0.2 attributes. A small gain, but in this new world, every fraction of an increase mattered.
Lu Ming allowed himself a rare smile. Even the bland protein powder he drank afterward tasted sweeter than usual.
As he rested, catching his breath, the world outside suddenly erupted.
“Bang!”
“Da da da da da!”
“Boom!”
Explosions shook the ground, their force rattling the windows. Lu Ming was on his feet in an instant, rushing to the observation hole. He peered outside, his heart pounding, and saw the street teeming with movement. Zombies—dozens of them—sprinting toward the source of the commotion. Their twisted, decaying bodies moved with a terrible, unnatural speed.
Smoke billowed from a spot three blocks away. Gunfire cracked through the air, heavy, rhythmic, and unmistakable.
The military.
It had to be.
The sound of automatic weapons and explosions echoed, growing louder with each burst of gunfire. Only the military would have the kind of firepower to make such noise.
“They’re moving to reclaim the city,” Lu Ming muttered, though doubt lingered in his voice. Could they? Against the sheer number of undead swarming the streets? It seemed impossible.
Despite his preparedness, despite his fortified house and weapons, the thought of facing the outside world again gnawed at him. There were too many unknowns. Too many risks. The apocalypse had come with all its horror, and his supplies, though ample, had a finite end.
Three years.
He had enough for three years, and yet, that number felt fragile now.
Twenty minutes passed in a tense silence. Lu Ming remained at the window, his eyes scanning the street for signs of the military, but none came. The explosions faded into the distance, and the zombies slowly trickled away from view, drawn to the fading sounds of battle.
No soldiers appeared. No military vehicles entered the street.
"If the military won, they'd be here already," he muttered, backing away from the window. "They’d come for survivors."
But no one came.
"If they lost… all the more reason not to go outside."
The logic was sound. Lu Ming had no reason to leave, not now. Not yet.
While Lu Ming kept calm in the aftermath, other survivors had seen the military's arrival as a glimmer of hope—or a cruel joke.
"The military! The military’s here to save us!"
The shout echoed through a cramped, three-story building, startling the group huddled within. Liu Aiyuan, her voice filled with sudden excitement, stared out of a crack in the window, her heart pounding with the possibility of rescue.
The others, cramped together in the tiny shared housing, snapped their heads toward her.
“Liu Aiyuan, keep your voice down!” hissed Wang Sheng, a burly man in his thirties, his fierce expression immediately silencing her.
The room was a tight, thirty-square-meter space, far too small for the seven people crammed inside. They had been trapped here since the apocalypse began two days ago, surviving in silence, trying to stay unnoticed.
In the quiet, Liu Aiyuan flushed red, biting back a retort. Wang Sheng’s authority had been established early, through brute strength if necessary.
Fan Huiling, a woman with heavy makeup clinging to Wang Sheng’s arm, glanced at Liu Aiyuan with a sneer. “He's right, you know. You’re gonna get us all killed if you keep shouting like that.”
Liu Aiyuan fumed but stayed quiet, anger simmering beneath the surface.
Yao Zheng, a young man in his twenties, glanced out the window with furrowed brows. “If the military’s here… do you think they’ll save us?”
End of Chapter 7