Chapter Eight: Rest

Having witnessed zombies' heads explode and their rancid brain matter splatter across Chu Qingfeng's face, Yan Luo had learned to avoid striking the skull when attacking zombies. Instead, he targeted the chest and neck—places where the force of a fire axe could easily break bone.

Indeed, zombies were slow, their reflexes dull, their bones brittle. They weren’t difficult to deal with—at least, not for him.

Yan Luo possessed impressive physical strength: standing 1.8 meters tall at eighteen years old, he was slender yet muscular, embodying the ideal physique for an Asian man. Unflinching and composed, he faced terror without a ripple of emotion, easily dispatching zombies.

“You have successfully eliminated ten zombies. Title unlocked: Zombie Hunter.”
“Zombie Hunter: When equipped, increases damage dealt to zombies by 10%.”

Yan Luo equipped the title. Instantly, a line of text appeared above his head: Zombie Hunter.

Tang Tianjie had long since earned this title. His teammate, Li Changxin, wore it too. In fact, this young woman was aiming for the “Meat Grinder” title, awarded for slaying one hundred zombies with a blade. She had already killed about a third. Tang Tianjie would use his Colt M1911 pistol to knock zombies down, and Li Changxin would finish off any survivors with her machete.

A strange laugh echoed through the air. Yan Luo turned to see Li Changxin raising her machete high, hacking vigorously at a zombie on the ground. The creature, severed in half, convulsed as filthy guts and intestines spilled out.

This "adorable girl who had surpassed the limits of humanity" was covered in splattered fluids—foul blood, brain matter, pus—all from chopping zombies.

With one hand gripping her machete, Li Changxin stood beside the zombie’s mutilated torso, her laughter chilling to the bone. Yan Luo noticed her pupils had dilated many times over, the whites of her eyes bloodshot, her brows arched like crescent moons.

On her charming face, that laughter was accompanied by a distorted grin.

You have felt a strong emotion:
Pleasure +2

Since the zombie hunt began, this was the eighth time Yan Luo sensed pleasure from Li Changxin. The accumulation of pleasure within the Heartless Doll had reached fourteen points. Yet, this was the first time the girl had laughed so indecently.

“What’s wrong with you?” Tang Tianjie asked, apparently concerned, though the stench of corpses clinging to Li Changxin made it difficult for him to approach—the zombies were revolting, which was why he preferred shooting over stabbing, even at the cost of forfeiting the "Meat Grinder" title.

Most of the zombies encountered along the way had been shot dead by him. After exhausting his original supply of bullets, he’d found more in a house. Thanks to him, survival for the nine newcomers in this novice world had become much easier.

The girl’s wild laughter ceased. Her twisted expression turned blank, then the corners of her mouth curled slightly. With a faintly sweet voice, she said, “Being surrounded by zombies everywhere—I guess I was just too scared… Sorry for worrying you, Brother Tang.”

Li Changxin tilted her head, smiling adorably, radiant as sunlight.

“Actually, zombies aren’t that frightening.”

Mortician Xu Han wore a grave expression. As a mortician in this small town, he was surrounded by corpses but unable to perform last rites—a source of immense pain for him.

“We fear zombies largely because we fear what we might become after death. If you set aside that subconscious dread, a zombie isn’t even as dangerous as a vicious dog.”

Chu Qingfeng suggested, “It’s dawn, everyone should rest and eat something.”

Truthfully, they owed much to Tang Tianjie for using his pistol to eliminate most zombies. He’d left some for Li Changxin to chop. The others had killed varying numbers—at most a dozen or so, at least three or four, except for the chuunibyou girl Ye Li, whose kill count was zero.

Their physical exhaustion was severe, and the psychological strain of adventuring through a zombie-infested, lifeless town was immense.

Chu Qingfeng felt utterly drained.

“My goodness, I can finally rest!” Zhu Xiaoyong, who had only killed two zombies, collapsed onto the ground. From night until now, in just a few hours, he’d exercised more than he had in an entire year in the real world.

He weighed three hundred fifteen pounds—over three hundred!

Wang Dongwei was gasping heavily. His teammates were an overweight homebody and the chuunibyou girl, so the pressure was enormous. Besides Tang Tianjie and Li Changxin, he had killed the most zombies—sixteen, to be exact. His hand, gripping the crowbar, trembled slightly.

“Hmph.”

Tang Tianjie glanced contemptuously at Chu Qingfeng and Wang Dongwei, then sat down to take stock of his gains. He’d killed sixty or seventy zombies; every few brought some loot. He couldn’t help but speculate about the future: if he ever entered a world of gods and monsters where monsters dropped treasures...

“If I were to enter the Mythic Era, wouldn’t I become rich? Achieve sainthood through destiny?”

Meanwhile, Yan Luo also sat down quietly and began to tally his own gains.

Stored emotions within the Persona Mask.

Strong emotions weren’t easily generated, but fortunately, this world was full of zombies and terror! For most newcomers, strong feelings of fear arose frequently at the start.

However, as time passed, the fear he absorbed dwindled, replaced occasionally by disgust.

The golden period for harvesting strong emotions had passed.

Disgust: 16 points
Anger: 10 points
Confusion: 10 points
Madness: 2 points
Fear: 27 points
Discomfort: 2 points
Pleasure: 14 points

He needed one hundred points to craft a Persona Mask.

The prompt advised that emotions should be combined in whole number ratios; otherwise, the likelihood of failure was extremely high. With so many emotions and only a basic level of Fate talent, the chance of failure was nearly one hundred percent!

The more types of emotion, the stronger the Persona Mask, but also the higher the risk of failure. Similar emotions fused more easily.

“From now on, Heartless Doll will absorb only: disgust, fear, and madness. Disgust is set to stop at twenty points, madness at twenty, fear at sixty.” Yan Luo planned to use these three emotions to craft his first Persona Mask.

Disgust and fear were easiest to gather in the zombie world, while madness, being an intense emotion, would enhance the mask’s power after synthesis.

The success rate for fusing three emotions was already low—he dared not add more.

Releasing emotions allowed for insight.

Ten points of confusion released!

Almost instantly, Yan Luo became utterly bewildered.

Chu Qingfeng gulped down a piece of bread, washed it down with a bottle of cola, then picked up a bag of potato chips and another cola. These were scavenged along the way, intended to curry favor with Yan Luo and foster camaraderie.

“Brother Yan.”

Chu Qingfeng set down the chips and cola, then patted Yan Luo, who sat on the stone platform with his head bowed, silent, his face hidden in shadow. “Is something troubling you?”

Yan Luo slowly raised his head.

The psychologist was startled—nearly jumped. Yan Luo’s eyes were vacant, lifeless, utterly lost—an expression of pure confusion.

Confused…

Ten points of confusion was considerable; it took quite a while for Yan Luo to snap out of this state, which felt like a blend of post-orgasm clarity and chaotic thought. He looked up to see Chu Qingfeng’s mouth agape—had he not programmed the Heartless Doll, he could likely have absorbed a strong “shock” emotion from this guy.

Suppressing his own astonishment, Chu Qingfeng felt as if he’d been utterly blindsided.

As a psychologist who had transcended human limits, Chu Qingfeng was adept at reading others’ thoughts through their eyes, mannerisms, micro-expressions. He could deduce personality, even predict someone’s next move. But Yan Luo was a complete mystery!

“This is definitely the greatest challenge of my life!”

This thought flashed through his mind. Chu Qingfeng lowered his head slightly and pushed his glasses—a gesture to conceal the mix of defeat and excitement burning in his eyes. What could thrill a psychologist more than encountering someone like Yan Luo?

“Yan Luo, someday I will understand your heart.”

“In this life, I wish to know only you!”

Suppressing his surging emotions, Chu Qingfeng, as a psychologist, knew that if the other didn’t wish to speak, pressing questions could cause discomfort. He didn’t mention what had just happened. Instead, he smiled warmly, “We’ve killed quite a few zombies—now we’re all tired and hungry. Come, have something to eat.”

“Ye Li’s backpack contains a lot of food we found on the way—there’s sausages, luncheon meat, but I bet you won’t eat those.”

Chu Qingfeng joked lightly about himself, “Once we’re back in the real world, I probably won’t be able to eat meat for a while.”

“No! I want luncheon meat. After fighting zombies, I’ve used up a lot of energy.” Yan Luo replied while wiping his right hand—the one that held the fire axe—with a towel, cleaning off the bits of flesh and foul blood that had splattered onto it.

“Bring me two more cans, please.” Having finished cleaning, Yan Luo scraped the minced meat from under his nails.

Chu Qingfeng: “…”

Luncheon meat was canned, compressed meat; Chu Qingfeng fetched two large cans. He watched Yan Luo pull off the lids, revealing white and red pieces glistening with moisture—resembling the swollen flesh of a zombie. Chu Qingfeng’s stomach clenched involuntarily.

You have felt a strong emotion:
Disgust +1

American soldiers once referred to luncheon meat as offal meat, ghost meat.

Yan Luo calmly washed his hands with water. Lacking utensils, he used his fingers to dig out a large chunk of the red and white congealed meat, stuffing it into his mouth and chewing heartily. Some juices dribbled from the corners of his lips, reminding Chu Qingfeng of the brain matter and slop that had splattered onto his face and even into his mouth earlier.

“Ugh!”

Chu Qingfeng couldn’t hold back; the cola and bread he’d just consumed poured from his mouth in a torrent, splattering messily on the ground.

You have felt a strong emotion:
Disgust +3

The set value of twenty points for disgust was now full.

Yan Luo glanced at the puddle of vomit, then continued calmly eating his luncheon meat.