When Ryan tried to go back and revisit the strange post, he found that it had vanished. No matter how much he searched, it was nowhere to be found.
It was clear that the authorities had taken action and removed it. Given how the apocalypse and the ergence of zombies had already thrown humanity into panic and chaos, the revelation that zombies could evolve would likely incite even greater unrest.
Failing to uncover any other useful information, Ryan closed the twitter.
After all, it was only the second day of the apocalypse. Most survivors were still cowering in their hos, paralyzed with fear. A few survivor bases had started to form, but they were rely gatherings of desperate individuals with nowhere else to flee from the pursuing zombies.
Although the governnt urged people through the news to stay calm and assured them that order would be restored, no tangible rescue efforts had been seen yet. Most people were still caught up in a frantic struggle to survive.
After a quick look through the news, Ryan climbed out of bed. Beside him, Olivia was still sound asleep, her peaceful expression showing no signs of waking anyti soon. Not wanting to disturb her, Ryan dressed himself.
"Looks like I'll need to find a few pretty maids to help dress and take care of daily chores in the future," he mused. A ruler should have personal attendants, after all.
However, the eight won he had captured earlier were not up to the task. If he were to have maids, they needed to be as beautiful as Olivia at the very least.
Otherwise, they wouldn't be pleasing to the eye. Those won were fine for nial tasks like cleaning, cooking, and laundry, but for personal attendants, they fell short.
Even the most attractive among them was far inferior to Olivia. While they might be considered pretty by normal standards, Ryan had no interest in them. His standards had risen. In this apocalypse, there was no shortage of won, so he saw no reason to settle for less.
On the third floor of the hospital, a few won responsible for serving Ryan had already prepared breakfast.
"Master, these are the only things left from the supplies you brought back," one of the girls said softly.
Ryan had already established so basic rules for them: they were to address him as "Master," obey his orders without question, and refrain from acting on their own without his permission. Although the won were clearly fearful, they had all complied.
Ryan didn't care if they were genuinely loyal or rely pretending, as long as they followed the rules on the surface. He would ensure they had enough food to survive, so long as they stayed in line.
The food on the table was simple: canned goods, beef jerky, vacuum-sealed roast chicken, and other instant als. So had been reheated in a microwave from one of the rooms.
Taking a bite of luncheon at, Ryan didn't feel it was too shabby. Considering that many people were still being chased by zombies, unable to find food at all, this was already more than decent.
"Sister, you are here, please sit down and eat." Ryan invited his sister to have breakfast.
Lily rolled her eyes, dark circles under them betraying her exhaustion. With a hint of grievance in her gaze, she sat down and picked up a piece of beef to eat.
"Sis, I'm planning to head out after breakfast to clear so zombies and bring back more supplies. I'll leave this place in your care," Ryan said casually.
"Alright, don't worry about it. I'll take care of things here for you," Lily replied. She understood her brother's ambition—he was already treating this hospital as his base. She herself was ready to assist him in achieving his goals.
Ryan felt at ease leaving his territory under his sister's watch. After all, Lily was no ordinary woman; she held double doctorates in psychology and computational philosophy. Managing a small group of people was hardly a challenge for soone of her intellect.
To ensure her safety, Ryan left her the only Type 54 pistol he had. In his hands, the gun was more useful for intimidation than practical use—its loud noise risked attracting more zombies, making it unsuitable for everyday combat.
After finishing breakfast, Ryan checked on Olivia, who was still lying on the bed. Her loyalty had risen to 95, a level of absolute devotion. Once soone's loyalty exceeded 90, betrayal was out of the question, which reassured Ryan.
It had to be said: the path to a woman's heart often led through her body. After taking Olivia's virginity last night, her loyalty had skyrocketed from 85 to 95.
Interestingly, Ryan could only see loyalty levels of those above 80, anyone below that threshold remained unreadable to him. Among the people in the hospital, only two individuals had a loyalty score over 90—Olivia at 95, and Lily, his sister, at a perfect 100.
This didn't surprise Ryan. His bond with his sister had long transcended the need for proof. After all, in their past life, she had sacrificed her life to save his. Seeing her unwavering loyalty now only made him cherish his one true family mber even more.
Carrying his backpack, Ryan headed to the second floor and climbed out of the window using an external water pipe. The entrance to the small hospital building had been completely barricaded to prevent zombies from getting in.
With a climbing pack on his back, a dagger at his waist, and newfound strength coursing through his body, Ryan felt unstoppable. Testing his power, he punched a zombie blocking his path, sending it flying.
"Huh, that's so tough bones," he remarked with mild surprise.
His axe from yesterday had been sacrificed to break into an airport glass panel. Now, he casually picked up a steel pipe from the ground. Testing its weight and feel, he found it satisfactory. With the pipe in hand, Ryan made his way out through the hospital's rear exit, prepared to carve a bloody path forward.
Today, Ryan had plenty on his agenda. His first priority was finding weapons, ideally firearms—high-caliber ones if possible.
They weren't just for his own use but also for the won back ho, like his sister Lily and Olivia. While Ryan could teach them basic martial arts, progress was slow, and there was no way for him to directly transfer his skills to them. Firearms, however, could bridge that gap effectively.
In the early stages of the apocalypse, guns were invaluable. Even Ryan, with his current strength, couldn't completely avoid the danger they posed.
His second task was to find a reliable lee weapon. This would largely depend on luck. Lastly, he needed to gather supplies: food, clothes, water, and other essentials. They couldn't afford to rely on stockpiled resources forever. As more survivors erged, competition for resources would inevitably intensify.
Ryan headed toward the police station, deliberately choosing this destination. The city's main police headquarters was conveniently located not far from the hospital. There would undoubtedly be an arsenal of firearms and other equipnt there—perhaps even enough to et his needs.
"Let's hope no one else is there," he muttered to himself as he walked.
-----
Back at the hospital, Olivia slowly opened her eyes. Her body still ached all over, every movent bringing a sharp reminder of the previous night's intensity. Ryan had thoroughly exhausted her, but at least she could still get up.
Looking at the bloodstained sheets and the delicate crimson blossom imprinted on them, Olivia's face flushed with a mix of pride and shy satisfaction.
"Master was amazing last night. He must like a lot," she thought to herself, a small smile curling her lips.
Just then, the door creaked open, and Lily walked in, carrying a tray of breakfast.
"Olivia, you're awake! I brought you so breakfast—"
Her words trailed off as her eyes landed on Olivia, lying naked on the bed, with the bloodstained sheets clearly visible. For a mont, the two won locked eyes, an awkward silence filling the room.
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