Chapter Twelve: Equipment—The Eye of the Undead
The progenitor zombie is the earliest form of the undead, with a minimum classification of level 5. Simply put, its abilities are at least three to five times greater than those of a human, and its infectiousness is formidable. Generally, a constitution score above 10 allows one to resist infection from ordinary zombies; to withstand infection from a progenitor, however, a constitution of over 50 is needed.
Now, hearing the progenitor’s heavy breathing, Yang Fan immediately instructed Zhu Liang to back away and take out the keys. With his abilities enhanced in every aspect, Yang Fan's mind worked much faster. He asked Zhu Liang for the keys not for any other reason, but to protect Liu Qiaoqiao and the others.
The strength of the progenitor increases with time and the number of infected humans. Yang Fan could sense that this progenitor could easily snap the iron door. If that happened, those hiding inside, like Liu Qiaoqiao, would be in grave danger. So Yang Fan opened the door, choosing to face the progenitor alone. He trusted his skills, which is why he asked Zhu Liang for the keys.
Yang Fan’s reflexes were already several times faster than a normal human’s. In an instant, he snatched the keys, inserted them into the lock, twisted, and pulled the chain free. Opening the door, a zombie rushed at him immediately. Yang Fan kicked it, sending it tumbling down the stairs.
“Die.”
Yang Fan shook the fire axe in his hand, and slammed it down. Instantly, with a sickening splatter, brain matter sprayed across the floor—a common zombie dispatched. Yang Fan shouted at Zhu Liang, “Lock the door, then hide. Only come out when I call for you.”
Zhu Liang possessed the qualities of a leader, never hesitating. With a click, he locked the iron door, then said to Yang Fan, “Be careful.”
He disappeared inside, while Yang Fan stood at the stairwell, feeling the progenitor’s heavy breaths. His grip on the fire axe tightened.
A sudden roar echoed. The progenitor, which had been moving slowly, abruptly increased speed just as Yang Fan sensed its appearance. It was a woman in red, evidently a teacher, her face pale, hands ghostly white, nails sharp and clawing toward him.
Yang Fan crouched just in time, reacting swiftly, then kicked the progenitor away. He swung the axe at her head, but the blade struck with a metallic clang—it couldn’t penetrate, her skull as hard as iron.
Without hesitation, Yang Fan jumped over the railing, landing behind the progenitor, drawing her toward the sixth-floor corridor. More zombies approached from afar.
“Quick fight.” Yang Fan knew he had little time. This progenitor had clearly evolved to level six or seven. Were it not for his bloodline and profession bonuses, her sudden attack would have cost him his life.
The progenitor’s intelligence initially was a third of a human’s, but as she consumed humans, she evolved, her intellect even surpassing humanity. Yet all memories from her previous life were erased, starting anew.
“Tai Chi.”
Yang Fan wasted no more words. He shook himself, and instantly his fists glowed with a fine golden aura—so subtle it was nearly invisible in the night. This was qi, sharper than a Swiss army knife, enough to pierce the progenitor’s basic defenses. Otherwise, the fire axe alone would have been futile.
In that moment, Yang Fan's movements seemed slow, but his attacks were powerful. The progenitor charged, intelligence present, but her primal desire drove her to devour Yang Fan, whose vital energy was strong. Unable to resist temptation, she lunged and was promptly sent flying by Yang Fan.
With lightning speed, Yang Fan darted in, seizing her throat and twisting with all his might. He had hoped to break her neck outright, but found he could only twist it slightly—not enough to snap it. He leapt away, for a swipe from her claws would have spelled doom.
“What now?” Yang Fan felt troubled. The progenitor rose, and seven or eight zombies were closing in. If he couldn’t find a solution, he would be in real danger.
“This is the only way.” In his desperate deliberation, Yang Fan suddenly thought of a plan. He flung the progenitor aside with the fire axe, then conjured a yellow talisman out of thin air. The symbols on it were chaotic, but one word stood out: “Explosion.”
Yang Fan intended to use the explosive talisman to resolve the battle. He held the fire axe defensively, pushed the progenitor aside, and stuffed the talisman into her mouth. Next to the corridor was a one-meter-high iron railing. Yang Fan shoved her over it, then bolted upstairs.
A deafening blast erupted on the fifth floor, shaking the entire school. Ordinary zombies continued searching for humans, but the more intelligent progenitors were drawn by the commotion. The fifth-floor railings were shattered, debris and broken glass scattered everywhere.
Yang Fan’s ears rang. Even at the seventh-floor iron door, he was nearly deafened. The explosive talisman’s force was immense, akin to a grenade. Within ten meters, no ordinary zombie could survive, and even lower-level progenitors were obliterated. Waving away the dust before him, Yang Fan called out to Zhu Liang, who was hiding, “You can come out now.”
His voice was not loud, but Zhu Liang was fully alert, waiting for Yang Fan’s signal. Upon hearing it, he immediately emerged, surveying the dusty stairwell and the somewhat weakened Yang Fan. “Are you alright?” he asked.
“Nothing serious.” To say he was unharmed would be a lie; he had suffered a concussion, a minor injury. Zhu Liang quickly unlocked the iron door, stepped out, relocked it, and hurried to Yang Fan’s side, offering support.
Yang Fan took a deep breath, his delicate features taut with worry. He listened intently and found no zombies nearby. Thus, he led Zhu Liang downstairs.
Upon descending, Yang Fan noticed something unusual. The iron railing was twisted beyond recognition, dust everywhere, zombie corpses scattered about, missing limbs and heads. But a pair of gleaming objects appeared clearly before him—equipment?
Yang Fan was startled. He stepped forward and picked up the shining items, which seemed to be two small black crystals.
“Player has discovered bronze-grade equipment: Zombie Eyes. Would you like to equip them?”
“Actual equipment dropped?” Yang Fan was stunned. Zombies rarely dropped equipment; everyone knew that relying on zombies for loot was futile—better to save money and buy gear. The easiest drops came from the insect swarm, then mutated beasts, but zombies… rarely yielded anything.
Now, his first piece of equipment was dropped by a zombie. Yang Fan wondered if his luck had increased since reloading his save.
No matter. Yang Fan equipped the Zombie Eyes immediately. The black crystals transformed into beams of light and entered his eyes, turning his pupils deep black—though Yang Fan was unaware.
[Special Equipment]
Zombie Eyes
Current Grade: Bronze
Potential Grade: Gold
Effect 1: Can assess any zombie, mutated beast, or insect swarm up to five levels below the user, revealing attributes and weaknesses.
Effect 2: Can detect hidden weak units within ten meters.
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A brief word of respite: The original opening of this novel wasn’t like this. On the day before recommendation, I suddenly wanted to revise it to make it more appealing, without altering the characters or central story. Do you know how long it took me? A day and a night. From eight o’clock yesterday until now, almost nonstop. My face is greasy, irradiated by the computer, exhausted. Over thirty thousand words written and posted, yet… no one is willing to support me. It’s painful, so painful I can’t speak. I am a true underdog, no match for the wealthy sponsors or the prodigy young authors. I have no grand ambitions, only hope this book can keep pace with everyone, reach the Three Rivers, strong recommendations, subscriptions enough to sustain myself. I wiped my eyes, trying not to let the tears fall. A day and a night’s effort—I don’t want to be called “brainless.” Please don’t insult my work. I hope you respect me, as I respect you. Friends, in the vast sea of humanity, our meeting is fate. Could you help me? Collect, recommend, click to read. If you find anything unsatisfactory, please speak up; I will reflect earnestly. Thank you, everyone. There’s another chapter at midnight—I plan to write until half past twelve, preparing tomorrow’s draft. But my head is dizzy, so I’ll just persist with tonight’s update. Next week, I hope everyone can support me in the rankings!