Returning to the apartment complex, Lam Pham silently stared at the dense branches and leaves. He didn't even know why he was so entranced by them.
The complex was far too quiet—so quiet that aside from his own breathing, there wasn't a single other sound.
"Only me left."
Lam Pham walked toward the stairway. He noticed someone standing on the second-floor balcony of the building next door.
It was a large, bald man—very alert, and instead of speaking, he just waved at him.
"What do you want?"
Lam Pham recognized the guy. A drug addict, pretty nasty. Back then, the guy used to bully him, even stole his bike once. When Lam Pham caught him and called the police, the guy had to return the bike. But the very next day, he beat Lam Pham up for it.
The bald man was stunned that Lam Pham was talking aloud. "This guy's crazy," he thought. "Isn't he afraid of attracting zombies?"
The man found a piece of cardboard and scribbled something on it:
"Bring food and water to our door."
When the outbreak hit, the bald man had been smoking, drifting in and out of consciousness. He turned on the TV and realized the world had gone to hell. He tried to escape, but the moment he opened the door, he saw terrifying zombies and immediately ran back inside, too scared to leave.
He had no food at home, and he was starving. Seeing Lam Pham walk around freely shocked him, but he didn't care about that—he just wanted Lam Pham to come over and draw the zombies to his door.
What a malicious plan.
"No." Lam Pham shook his head and rejected him without hesitation. "You bullied me before. Why would I help you now?"
"You're different." The bald man's lips twitched as he held back his anger. He wrote another message on the cardboard:
"If you bring stuff to my door, I'll let you stay with me. When the time comes, I'll take you to a secret base I know about."
"I still won't help you." Lam Pham was as calm as ever. He didn't care whether speaking would attract zombies.
The bald man's face darkened, teetering on the edge of fury. He couldn't believe the little guy didn't know what was good for him.
Fine. You want to die?
I'll help you.
He grabbed a metal basin and began banging on it loudly, creating a sharp, ringing noise. The sound echoed far and wide.
Roar!
Zombies heard the noise and started growling.
Several of them emerged from the silent stairwell, twisting their bodies. As soon as they saw Lam Pham, they rushed toward him hungrily.
"If you won't help me, then die!" the bald man shouted viciously.
Lam Pham had expected something like this. Bad people would always stay bad. If you didn't listen to them, they'd try to kill you. Just human nature's dark side, really.
The bald man saw Lam Pham standing still and sneered. So calm? Must be scared stiff.
Lam Pham calmly set down the groceries and the water jug. He paid for these things, after all. It'd be a waste if they got destroyed.
The fastest zombie charged first, howling. Its pale eyes darted around, and its bloody mouth was full of torn flesh—what looked like intestines, even. It had clearly bitten a lot of people.
"If I'm not mistaken, you must be Uncle Chu's son," Lam Pham muttered, trying to recognize the person behind the decayed face—though that was pretty hard.
Squelch!
He swung a cleaver sideways, slicing through the zombie's head. Black blood spilled out as he kicked the body away.
"That kid is this strong?" The bald man was shocked. He couldn't believe it. The same guy he beat up so easily back then could now kill zombies like slicing meat?
Another zombie attacked.
Still calm, Lam Pham swung his cleaver like a butcher. One strike, one kill. His strength made it all so easy—everything was light work to him.
Only two zombies remained. Lam Pham didn't want to waste energy cutting them.
He threw down the cleaver, kicked one zombie away, then grabbed the other and flung it toward the second-floor window.
"Holy shit! What the hell are you doing?!" the bald man panicked. Before he could react, the zombie crashed through the window and tumbled into his balcony. With no pain, it growled and lunged at him.
Lam Pham picked up the last zombie and tossed it toward the second floor as well.
"You bastard! I'm gonna kill you!" the bald man screamed. One zombie was hard enough to deal with—now there were two.
"Aaaaagh!"
The man screamed as a zombie bit into him. He tried to leap out the window but got dragged back in. As they gnawed on him, he clung desperately to the railing, his eyes full of rage and despair as he looked at Lam Pham.
"Fuuuck yooou...!"
His legs were being eaten alive, and one zombie even tore off part of his backside. Eventually, he lost the strength to resist and was pulled inside. His screams echoed throughout the apartment complex.
No one dared come out to check. Everyone knew—someone was getting eaten.
Lam Pham quietly watched until the scene ended. Then he picked up the groceries, slung the water jug over his shoulder, and left.
"You like hurting people that much? Fine, here's two zombies just for you."
He entered the elevator and pressed for the 7th floor.
He had no idea how many people were still alive in this complex, but he didn't care. The zombies outside were terrifying and incredibly dangerous.
Thank goodness he was smart enough to keep his apartment clean.
If corpses had been left around, the smell would be unbearable by now.
Back home, he put the groceries in the kitchen and set the water jug on the dispenser.
He glanced at the clock.
11:00 AM.
Time for lunch—his stomach was rumbling a bit.
He wasn't sure if the water supply was still safe to drink, but it was probably okay for washing vegetables.
He cleaned the food and meat, skillfully sliced everything up, and washed the rice. He had a small electric rice cooker—just about the size of a bowl—so it cooked fast.
A faint aroma of cooked rice began to fill the kitchen.
Lam Pham sat in front of his computer and continued scrolling forums.
It was the second day since the zombie outbreak.
Though a lot had changed outside, he still felt like things were relatively okay.
Suddenly—
A notification popped up in the bottom corner of the screen.
"Huh? There's still news coming through?"
Lam Pham clicked it open.
"To all surviving citizens of the city: do not count on rescue. This is an irregular infection. The system has collapsed. Internal structures are in disarray. We hope you can rely on your own efforts to survive. As long as you live, there is hope. Please unite. Please unite..."
It wasn't long, but for those still waiting on help, it was utterly crushing.
Everyone had hoped the government would suppress this zombie outbreak quickly. Who could've expected this?
An irregular infection meant people could turn at any time—even just sitting in a room. No warning. That kind of thing could destroy any group from within.
Even the luckiest survivor teams would have a hard time holding out against such a massive zombie horde. They were fast, felt no pain. Fighting them was insanely hard.
Lam Pham glanced at his phone as it lit up. There was no sound, just a silent notification.
Somewhere, deep underground in a hidden facility, a middle-aged man with a pale face and a bleeding arm struggled to operate a supercomputer. He had just broadcasted the message to all surviving citizens.
Everything had happened too suddenly. Zombies had appeared even in secure bases.
No one could react in time.
"Roooaaar..."
The middle-aged man groaned, his body trembling. Veins bulged across his face as his pupils rolled back and turned gray. He transformed into a zombie and wandered the server room.
When Lam Pham saw the message, he remained calm. "Yeah… can't expect rescue anymore."
A city with so many people… zombies made up the vast majority now.
To wipe them out or even attempt a rescue? How many people would that take?
He browsed the forums again. Hardly any new threads. Even fewer replies.
A few new posts did show up, but they were… well, tragic.
"Brothers, I'm done for. Here's my cloud drive link. Inside, I've stored my entire collection of artistic videos over the years. If you want them, take them. They're high quality. Treat the girls well. And for the love of god, don't… disrespect the collection."
"I was playing poker with my girlfriend when a zombie broke in. Now she's a zombie too. They're banging on my door. I've been bitten. I'll turn soon. Here's her photo—she's really beautiful. Jealous, huh?"
Lam Pham read them, amused. They were funny in their own way. But still—no one replied.
Just posting those threads must've taken a lot of courage.
He decided to leave a reply anyway. For both of them:
"Wish you peace, brother."
"Truly envious."
Totally sincere. Not trolling.
He sniffed the air.
The smell of rice was ready. He left the computer and headed to the kitchen. Time to stir-fry the vegetables. He liked making stir-fry after the rice was cooked—that way, everything would still be hot when he ate.