"Where am I?"
Yasin groggily woke up from his sleep.
Looking at the scene before him, his mind was in complete chaos.
It was a rather luxurious bedroom.
The walls were adorned with purple gilded wallpaper.
The floor was made of solid, heavy, and rustic hardwood.
On the bedside table sat an opulent bedside lamp and an antique bronze clock.
A Rolex watch glead with a dazzling golden glow.
Everything in this room exuded wealth and opulence.
"What the hell is going on? How did I suddenly appear here? Where exactly is this place?"
Yasin pressed his aching head a few tis, a string of questions spilling from his lips. But no one answered. The surroundings were utterly silent, without the slightest hint of movent.
These questions remained unanswered—until Yasin caught sight of the clock on the bedside table.
"1993?!"
Yasin suddenly sat upright, staring in shock at the clock beside the bed. It displayed several letters along with a date:
1993-10-3 7:30
"Is the clock broken?"
Yasin picked up the heavy tipiece and examined it carefully, then reached for the bedside lamp's pull cord.
However, the lavish and antique bedside lamp didn't emit any light.
"No electricity?"
He tried the other switch to confirm. Once he was certain the power was out, he got up and walked to the window, pulling back the curtains.
The next mont, his pupils shrank rapidly, and he nearly collapsed to the ground in shock.
"No! This... What the hell is this?!"
Trembling, Yasin steadied himself and looked out at the road not far from the house.
Countless people were wandering aimlessly.
But these "people" were either missing an arm, half a body, or had no legs, crawling grotesquely on the ground.
Almost all of them were incomplete.
"Zombies?!"
Yasin swallowed hard, forcing himself to suppress his shock as he observed the walking corpses outside the window.
Looking more closely, he noticed the one closest to him—a woman missing half her neck, staring blankly over a railing.
Her face was both nauseating and expressionless.
Rotting flesh, grayish-white eyes, and sharp, mucus-covered teeth protruded from her collapsed, grotesquely large mouth.
Her remaining physical features and tall, curvaceous figure suggested she had once been a Caucasian woman.
Yasin took a deep breath and turned back to glance at the clock, which still displayed 1993-10-3 7:30.
This ti, he was finally certain.
"I've traveled through ti... and I've ended up in a post-apocalyptic world!"
At that mont, Yasin felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness.
For soone from the 21st century, zombies weren't an unfamiliar concept.
With countless zombie movies and post-apocalyptic novels, Yasin quickly grasped his current predicant.
After a long ti, he finally recovered from his initial shock and confusion. His resilient mindset allowed him to accept reality rather quickly.
Since he had arrived in the apocalypse, he needed to find a way to survive.
At the very least, he now had the luxurious house and comfortable lifestyle he had always dread of.
Looking at the extravagant furnishings and the Rolex on the bedside table, Yasin couldn't help but feel a little emotional.
No matter how bad things got, it wouldn't be worse than his past life—suffocating under crushing mortgage and car paynts, living in a tiny cage of an apartnt, too financially burdened to even think about dating.
At least now, he had no debts and could live freely.
Worst-case scenario? He'd just get eaten by zombies.
In the past, he had to swallow his anger and suppress his strength, never daring to lash out.
Now, the streets were filled with zombies—prey he could hunt as much as he wanted!
If he could adapt to this world and find a way to survive...
Yasin smirked self-deprecatingly.
"Maybe, as a 30-year-old bachelor, I can finally find my woman here... Maybe even more than one!"
In the apocalypse, there were no rules, no morality. Strength was everything. Those who possessed power and resources ruled.
The won who once played hard to get, looking down on n, might now be nothing more than property—re resources to be claid.
n could decide their fates as they pleased.
And those untouchable goddesses from before?
Now, they were just commodities.
Snapping himself out of his fantasies, Yasin refocused on the imdiate issue at hand.
"Right now, the priority is to check how much food and water I have in this house and figure out exactly where I am! I also need to find a weapon for self-defense."
Grabbing a wooden hanger from the closet, Yasin cautiously opened the bedroom door, peeking outside.
After confirming there was no danger, he stepped out.
The house was a standard Arican-style building—only two floors in total.
From the second floor, he descended to the living room. To the left was the kitchen.
Tightening his grip on the wooden stick, Yasin tiptoed across the living room and into the kitchen.
The kitchen was a bit ssy, but what imdiately caught his attention was a massive refrigerator.
"Holy shit!"
The mont he opened the fridge, Yasin couldn't help but exclaim in delight.
Not only was it stocked with food, but it also had plenty of drinks and alcohol.
It seed that the original owner of this villa was a hobody like him—soone who didn't like going out much.
These supplies would be enough to sustain him for quite so ti!
BANG!
"Ahhh!!!"
"Fuck you, you goddamn bitches! Go to hell!"
At that mont, a loud crash ca from outside, followed by a woman's terrified scream and a man's furious cursing.
Judging by the sound, it was coming from very close to his house!
Hearing human voices made Yasin's heart race with excitent.
Reviews
All reviews (0)