C6 The Method to Become Stronger!

After observing the blue liquid evaporate, Willett spent some time in thought before once again lifting his spear to resume his hunting endeavors. True to his expectations, each zombie he hunted down secreted a blue liquid from its head upon death. This liquid had a fleeting existence, lasting no more than five seconds. It also appeared to actively seek out human presence to either parasitize or corrode. As a result, he often saw the blue substance creeping towards him along the bamboo pole, almost as if it were alive, and he felt an intense craving for it. It was as though a persistent voice in his head was urging him, "Drink it, drink it, drink it!"

Yet, perhaps due to the distance, the blue liquid would only climb a short way up the bamboo before dissipating into a mist. Instinctively, Willett sensed that the liquid posed no harm to him, only potential benefits. He found himself torn: his otaku nature cautioned him to avoid unnecessary risks and prioritize safety, steering clear of the blue liquid. Conversely, his instincts compelled him to hunt zombies and consume the liquid. When instinct clashes with reason, some can harness their intellect to master their primal urges, the mark of the wise. Others let their instincts overrun their thoughts, typical of an otaku... Regrettably, Willett was clearly not among the wise, but rather a quintessential otaku. Nevertheless, his otaku aversion to danger led him to adopt safety as his foremost concern while heeding his instincts. He methodically exterminated the remaining zombies on the rooftop, sparing only those with the smallest heads to roam aimlessly—his experimental subjects.

Willett was admittedly quite cowardly. The zombie before him was barely one and a half meters tall and missing an arm, yet Willett still feared an attack. From a safe distance, he used his spear to sever the zombie's limbs, leaving behind a living torso writhing on the ground. He then cautiously retrieved a spare ladder from his home to bridge the gap to the adjacent rooftop.

The rooftops were in close proximity, and soon Willett had made his way across. He watched the zombie continue to roll on the ground, its mouth snapping open and shut like a piranha. He removed the short spear from the bamboo pole and plunged it into the zombie's mouth. In no time, the creature lay still. The familiar blue liquid emerged as anticipated, seeping into Willett's pant leg. That well-known chill returned to his body, as cold as ever, shooting from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head. But then, "Huh?"

Willett's eyes snapped open in surprise, no longer squeezed shut from the intense pain he had braced for. He touched his head and wondered aloud, "Why doesn't it hurt?"

As it turned out, although the blue liquid's entry into his body was preceded by the same sensations as before, the excruciating pain in his brain didn't recur. Instead, he felt a chilling sensation encircling his brain, sharpening his awareness. Vigorously waving his hand, he was astonished to find that the short spear, which had previously felt substantial, now seemed as light as air in his grasp. Were it not for the icy touch of the spear confirming its presence, he might have doubted it was still in his hand at all. This confirmed his suspicion: his strength had increased once more. The blue liquid was indeed enhancing his physical capabilities. Excitement surged through him as he thought, "This is just from killing a few zombies. What if I took down dozens, hundreds, or even thousands? Could I become the next Superman?" In that moment, his inner homebody's passion ignited; zombies were nothing but clouds passing by, mere experience points. "Level up by slaying a few more," he chuckled to himself.

However, his triumph was interrupted by a blood-curdling scream from the next street over. He instinctively reached for his telescope and peered in the direction of the noise. What he saw made his hair stand on end.

"A Licker! Damn it, there's actually a Licker just like in Resident Evil! How can this be? Is Capcom somehow prophetic, or is this all just a nightmare?"

Willett's fear had him babbling incoherently. Through his telescope, he had caught sight of a grotesque creature atop a neighboring building. The skinless monster, with bulging blood-red muscles, was gruesomely chewing on a human. The creature was a near-perfect match to the Licker from Resident Evil, with its exposed brain, horrifying red musculature, a mouth bristling with serrated teeth, and a long, barbed tongue. Its massive claws completed the image of a monstrous killing machine. With a flick of its tongue, it gruesomely bisected its victim, then devoured the remains with a few crunches of its jagged maw. Sensing something in the distance, the creature bounded across the rooftops with blinding speed, vanishing around the next corner.

Willett's zeal for hunting zombies had vanished. He quietly thought to himself, "Zombies are truly the most terrifying... the most terrifying! Next to this guy, I might just end up being the one turned into experience points... Better to chant Amitabha and keep a low profile..."

After a moment's contemplation, he resumed his descent. His primary objective for the day was securing drinking water, and despite the risks, he had to press on. Besides, with his current agility and strength, unless he was swarmed by a horde of zombies or had the misfortune of encountering a Licker, his chances of survival were high. And if worst came to worst, he could always outrun them.

He safely cleared from the fifth floor down to the second. But on the fourth floor, two zombies at the stairwell took notice of him. With no escape route, he knew it was a do-or-die situation. Thankfully, these decrepit zombies couldn't keep pace with Willett. He circled them briefly, opting not to use his short spear for fear it would get stuck in their skulls. Instead, he aimed a horizontal blow at one zombie's head. "Thud!"

The sound echoed as the zombie's head burst open like a watermelon hitting the pavement, splattering in all directions. The other zombie, undeterred, charged at him but was swiftly impaled through the head by Willett. As both zombies lay defeated, a blue liquid seeped into his body, though the sensation was less intense than before. A cool breeze seemed to pass through his mind, slightly replenishing his strength, but without any significant enhancement. This left Willett somewhat disheartened. It appeared that there was a cap to the strength gained from slaying zombies, similar to leveling up in a game. He figured that killing ordinary zombies would offer diminishing returns from now on.

The journey to the second floor was silent. As expected, three barrels of pure water were neatly arranged, but the water dispenser had been knocked over, rendering the opened barrel unusable. Thankfully, with careful rationing, the remaining water should last quite a while. Before his body had mutated, fetching the barrels would have been a challenge, likely requiring multiple trips. Now, however, it was a breeze: one barrel in each hand and another nestled under his armpit. Willett hummed contentedly as he made his way to the rooftop and back into his own home.

Upon returning, he felt no desire to drink water and instead powered up his computer, grateful for the dual-line design of their network. One of the lines was even tapped from the Polytechnic University, virtually guaranteeing no power outages. Only a city-wide power crisis in Depridge could disrupt his supply, and in that case, he'd be out of options. With electricity available, he hurried to compile useful knowledge. Despite the disparities between games, movies, and reality, he knew that being prepared was always better than the alternative. Once the computer booted up, he dove into the Resident Evil series, a past obsession of his. He had previously gathered extensive information online and created a detailed compendium for his own amusement, never imagining its current utility. Focused, he opened the compendium to the Licker page and studied it intently.

"Licker"

The Licker wasn't a direct mutation from a normal human. As the Resident Evil series explained, an infected person's metabolism accelerates, causing their body tissue to rot and age. The skin turns ashen and bloodless until it peels away, exposing the muscle beneath. Infected hosts experience intense hunger, needing constant food intake to sustain their rapid metabolic demands. If the host is well-nourished, the skin's decay continues, but muscle tissue grows quickly. As they lose the functionality of human hands, their forelimbs evolve into claws, facilitating movement and hunting on ceilings and walls. Strangely, Lickers completely lose their vision, but their tactile and auditory senses become incredibly acute, surpassing those of wild animals. In the game, a Licker will stand and locate any sound it hears, pouncing without hesitation once a target is identified. Since Lickers retain critical brain functions, they can feel pain, which is why in the film adaptation, they pause when shot, unlike early-stage (T Virus-infected) zombies who relentlessly advance despite attacks. Their accelerated metabolism also means wounds heal much faster. Without heavy weaponry, the chances of survival against a Licker are slim. However, a precise shot to the brain ensures its demise, although such accuracy is rare given their speed.

Willett scrutinized the dossier on the Licker, exhaling deeply. This creature, having evolved into a merciless killing machine, was beyond his capacity to confront at present. Thus, he had to maintain absolute quiet to avoid drawing the attention of this deadly predator. Otherwise, it would be a certain death.

For the time being, Willett had resolved his immediate needs for food and water. The next consideration was his future course of action. Should he hunker down and wait for rescue, or attempt to break through the siege? The answer came swiftly; for an introvert like him, safety was paramount. As long as his life wasn't in jeopardy, he had no intention of abandoning the safety of his cozy stronghold. Yet, he knew he couldn't remain indefinitely. The food at home would last maybe a month at best, and the daunting sea of corpses amassed at the supermarket entrance had thoroughly dissuaded him from venturing out for supplies. After much deliberation, he still couldn't chart a path forward. So he decided to stop pondering the future. Who could predict what tomorrow might bring? With a stockpile of food and water, he resolved to train his body once more, to become acquainted with his enhanced physical state. In doing so, he would know exactly what he was capable of in the face of danger.

Lost in thought, he ambled over to the water cooler, filled a glass, and took a drink. Settling down on the floor, he began to rest. Just then, a peal of thunder echoed, and the sky rapidly darkened. The patter of raindrops against the window heralded the first downpour since the apocalypse's onset.