Getting A Sugar Momm Chapter 6: First Kill

Chapter 6: First Kill

After two hours of drills that left my arms burning and my shirt soaked through with sweat, Zero decided it was ti for the real test.

"There’s a straggler three blocks east," she said, tilting her head as if she could hear sothing I couldn’t. "F-Tier. Freshly turned, so maybe a week old. It’s slower than the one from yesterday."

"You want

to fight it."

"I want you to kill it." She crossed her arms. "I’ll be right there. If things go sideways, I’ll step in. But I want to see what you do."

My grip tightened on the pipe.

The gene prir had been in my system for only a couple of hours and my body definitely felt different.

I wasn’t stronger exactly, but definitely more alert. Like soone had turned up the contrast on my senses by a few notches. Colors were slightly sharper, sounds slightly crisper.

Or maybe that was the adrenaline. Hard to tell.

We moved through the streets quietly. Zero walked ahead, completely relaxed, while I clutched my pipe like it was Avalon, the Holy Sword. Maybe I should rena myself as Arthur. Am I even getting the mythology right?

She led

around a corner and held up a fist. I stopped.

There it was. The damned thing crouched over sothing on the ground about twenty ters away. It was smaller than the one from yesterday, thinner actually. Its movents were also jerky and uncoordinated, like a puppet with tangled strings.

Finally, a zombie who fit the definition of a freaking zombie.

’Freshly turned. Slower. Less muscle developnt.’ I studied it from behind the rusted hull of a van. ’But still way stronger than

in a straight fight.’

So I wouldn’t fight it straight. Only an idiot would—and I’m the epito of smartness.

I looked around. The street was narrow here, flanked by collapsed storefronts. Debris was everywhere. Broken glass, tal scraps, a toppled vending machine lying on its side about five ters from the zombie.

My overthinking brain churned up an idea.

I picked up a chunk of concrete from the ground and hurled it hard to the zombie’s right. It cracked against a wall and the zombie’s head snapped toward the noise instantly, and it scrambled in that direction on all fours.

’At least they are idiots.’

The mont it turned, I moved toward the vending machine. Then, I wedged the pipe under its edge and used it as a lever, throwing all my weight down. The machine groaned, teetered, and held.

’Co on, co on you rusty son of a bish...’

The ugly zombie realized the noise was a decoy and spun back toward

with a shriek that made my blood curdle. It charged at , fortunately not at an incredible speed.

I waited. Three seconds. Two. One.

I threw my entire body onto the pipe. The vending machine tipped with a tallic scream and ca crashing down directly into the zombie’s path. It tried to dodge, but its freshly turned reflexes weren’t fast enough. The machine caught it across the legs and pinned it to the asphalt with a thunderous crunch.

It wasn’t dead—well, technically it was, but you get it. It thrashed and clawed at the ground, dragging itself forward with its arms. But it was trapped.

I walked over, heart hamring so hard I could hear it in my ears, and raised the pipe above my head. The zombie snarled up at

with those milky white eyes.

"Nothing personal," I said, a grin forming on my face. "You’re just too ugly for this world."

I brought the pipe down on its skull. Once. Twice. Three tis, until the thrashing stopped and the street went quiet.

I stood there, breathing hard, covered in sweat and gri, holding a bent pipe over a dead zombie pinned under a vending machine.

’I actually did it.’

I actually killed a freaking zombie.

I turned around. Zero stood behind , arms still crossed, but her expression had completely changed. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted slightly. She was looking at

like she’d just found a rare gem.

"You..." she walked toward

hurriedly. "You used the environnt. The decoy, the lever, the timing. You didn’t try to overpower it. You outthought it. Good job!"

"I told you, I’m a writer. Procrastination is what I do."

Her composure cracked on my words as a grin spread across her face, so wide and genuine that it was almost blinding. She grabbed my face with both hands and squished my cheeks together.

"My baby killed his first zombie!" she squealed. "Oh my god, you’re a genius! A tiny, squishy, F-ranked genius!"

"Mph—my feesh—"

"Do you know how many people just charge in and die? Like idiots? That’s how so many people died initially. But you, you beautiful, noodle-bringing, big-brained man!"

She let go of my face only to ruffle my hair so aggressively that I was sure she’d scalp . "I’m going to spoil you so rotten. Whatever you want. Weapons? Gear? A base with running water? I’ll get it. Consider it done."

"I’d settle for you not dislocating my jaw with your enthusiasm." I struggled out of her grasp.

"No promises!"

The cold, collected, dangerously strong woman from yesterday had evaporated, and in her place was soone who looked like a proud girlfriend whose boyfriend just won first place at a... science fair.

It was, without a doubt, the most terrifying and flattering reaction I had ever received.

She linked her arm through mine and started walking

back, chattering the entire way about combat theory and how environntal kills were a sign of S-tier survival instinct.

I understood maybe half the words. The other half was drowned out by the buzzing in my chest.

’Yeah,’ I thought, glancing at the grinning woman attached to my arm. ’I could definitely get used to this.’

I was grateful to et this woman so quickly in this world. She was powerful, a bit mysterious and even a bit insane, but she was also very sweet.

’I am going to spoil you rotten with my food, dear.’