Chapter Fourteen: Saving Lives (1/5)

Potential grade: Gold?
This was different from skills, and the most important aspect was its attribute effect—it could apparently scan any monster up to five levels higher than himself. Realizing this, Yang Fan immediately glanced around, but there were no zombies in sight. Instead, he saw Zhu Liang; the moment he looked at him, a neat square panel appeared before his eyes, displaying:

[Player]
Class: None
Vitality: 70%
Mental Power: 50%
Constitution: 5
Strength: 4
Agility: 2
Intelligence: 3
Skills: None
Equipment: None
Assessment: Grade F
Note: This is a very weak individual and can be killed with ease.

“Good stuff,” Yang Fan praised aloud. The Eye of the Zombie could turn anything into data, letting him make more advantageous decisions. He then turned his gaze to the item in his hand.

[White Equipment]
Fire Axe
Sharpness: 2 (Can cut through ordinary iron.)
Adds: +2 Strength
Note: A very common item in the apocalypse, useless against zombies above level 5.

This was the equipment’s stats. Under the apocalypse system, it was impossible to know such detailed information about equipment or items without special help. The reason so much information was given the first time was because the system explained it upon initial acquisition. Normally, to know an item’s stats, one had to buy a shoddy appraisal charm, each costing ten apocalypse coins—an outrageous price. If you happened to find a bronze or silver item, the higher-quality appraisal charms were even more valuable. Now, with this thing, as long as the item wasn’t more than five levels above his own, he could analyze it quickly and get detailed information.

He hadn’t had time to savor his fortune when suddenly a scream rang out from a distance—it came from the third floor. Normally, Yang Fan wouldn’t have heard it, but perhaps this was a hidden function of the Eye of the Zombie. Every piece of equipment had a hidden effect, though most only slightly increased some ability and weren’t very significant.

Hearing the piercing cry, Yang Fan immediately gripped the fire axe and told Zhu Liang, “Stay behind me. Don’t hesitate—if you see a zombie, hack it. I’ll protect you.”

The rather portly Zhu Liang nodded at once. There was no trace of the usual stern discipline director about him now; he had already accepted Yang Fan as the backbone, following closely and nervously glancing behind. If a zombie appeared, he thought he’d swing without hesitation.

As Yang Fan reached the stairwell, he spotted two zombies—now he could check their stats.

[Level-1 Zombie]
Level: 2
Type: White
Constitution: 20
Strength: 14
Agility: 1
Intelligence: 1
Note: The lowest tier of zombie, with a very slim chance of mutation. Recommended for beginners to hone skills and combat techniques.

Their constitution and strength far surpassed even level 3 or 4 humans, but their agility and intelligence were fatal flaws. Yang Fan dispatched the two zombies easily, gaining four apocalypse coins, and continued downward. Luckily, most of the zombies had probably gone outside—otherwise, with five or six thousand students at No. 8 High, a sudden outbreak would have left Yang Fan no choice but to hide.

At this moment, Yang Fan hurried downstairs, planning to check the third floor. He left not a single zombie on the way—each one was a form of experience. To reach level 1 required killing a hundred ordinary zombies; to reach level 2, probably two hundred more. Yang Fan counted his kills in his mind, and by the time he reached the third floor, he had already slain seventy or eighty zombies.

His body was splattered with blood, and his stamina had dropped a bit. Zhu Liang had managed to kill four or five, which was quite impressive—after all, it takes time for anyone to adjust to such a drastic change, let alone adapt to it instantly. Zhu Liang had forced himself to act, and Yang Fan admired his character.

He also felt it was only natural that Zhu Liang held the position of discipline director. Decisive and ruthless, he could be a valuable assistant if kept in check, though if his loyalty wavered, he would become a problem.

Yang Fan didn’t want to think too much about it for now, but he kept it in mind. Arriving at the left side of the third floor, he found the area blocked by zombies—this was the dance studio. Yang Fan could clearly hear several people inside, and among them, girls were screaming for help. Although there were many zombies outside, they couldn’t break through the door, which was made of solid steel. Unless it was a level 10 mother zombie, ordinary zombies would never get through.

But why were there screams of pain inside?

Yang Fan frowned, and the zombies, catching his scent, turned to face him. Zhu Liang’s jaw dropped—there were more than thirty zombies at a glance.

What now? He looked to Yang Fan, only to see him heft the fire axe and charge forward without hesitation.

Three zombies came first. Yang Fan swung the axe, decapitating one, then quickly dispatched another. As the third zombie lunged at him, Yang Fan tossed the axe upward, seized the zombie’s head with both hands, and twisted—there was a crisp snap, and the third zombie was finished.

Ordinary zombies were no match for Yang Fan, even without using any martial energy.

However, facing more than thirty zombies left Yang Fan somewhat winded. Fortunately, Zhu Liang mustered his courage and helped shoulder the load, barely holding off a couple himself. The corridor wasn’t wide, so only three or four zombies could attack at a time. Yang Fan retreated as he fought, gradually clearing out all thirty-odd zombies, most of which were level 1, with a few level 2—none were level 3.

Once the area was cleared, Yang Fan sensed more zombies approaching. He called to Zhu Liang, “Let’s go check it out.” Stepping over bodies, he made his way to the dance studio door, Zhu Liang close behind. Soon, they reached the entrance. Yang Fan knocked and called out, “Open up, the zombies outside have all been cleared.”

“Students, open the door quickly! I’m your discipline director, Zhu Liang. Open up—we need to help each other!” Zhu Liang didn’t know why Yang Fan wanted them to open up, thinking he was looking for reinforcements. In truth, Yang Fan had heard girls screaming for help and wanted to check inside. Having witnessed too many horrors in his former life and feeling powerless, now that he was reborn, he didn’t intend to be a savior, but he would help where he could.

That was Yang Fan’s innate kindness. Otherwise, if it were someone with a dark heart, having suffered so much and then been reborn, who knows what they might do.

At this moment, Yang Fan listened intently. The noisy room inside suddenly grew much quieter. Through the peephole, he saw a person, though their features were unclear—it was only an ordinary peephole, not X-ray vision.

The person seemed to size him up, but didn’t open the door immediately. Several minutes passed before it finally opened.

There was a clatter as the door swung open, revealing a yellow-haired youth wielding an iron rod, looking hostile.

Seeing him, Zhu Liang’s expression changed at once. He lowered his voice to Yang Fan: “This guy’s a notorious troublemaker at school—a freshman who hangs out with the senior gang leader. Should we go in?”

After hearing Zhu Liang’s words, Yang Fan sensed more zombies gathering nearby. His stamina was seriously depleted, so he entered without hesitation. Zhu Liang followed close behind, and as soon as they were inside, the door slammed shut.

Bang.

“Ah!” Zhu Liang yelped, struck by a rod and collapsing in pain, his back throbbing. Yang Fan, reacting quickly, snatched the iron rod in one swift motion and turned to face a crew-cut man about 1.8 meters tall. Without hesitation, Yang Fan slapped him hard—the sound was crisp, and the youth howled, rolling on the floor. With Yang Fan’s current strength nearly three times that of a normal person, that slap at the very least dislocated his jaw, if not more.

“You think you’re tough? Stand down!” someone barked.

Suddenly, a chilling presence filled the air—Yang Fan’s hair stood on end. At that moment, a black pistol was pointed directly at him.

He wasn’t yet capable of dodging bullets, so he obediently halted.

Now Yang Fan took stock of the situation: six or seven girls were kneeling to the side, bound, while a dozen or so boys—either bald, crew-cut, or sporting red or yellow hair—stood around with iron rods and even razor blades in hand, surrounding him.

The one holding the gun was a fat man, shirtless, his face brutish and menacing, a thick gold chain around his neck—clearly a thug from outside. Beside him was a girl, almost naked, likely a junior or senior, hair a tangled mess, hugging her knees and shivering.

It was all too obvious—no further explanation was needed.