[Killed a zombie][Points gained +1]
"Why so unfriendly? It's really disappointing."
Lam Pham wiped the black blood off Frostmourne with a helpless sigh. Even in the apocalypse, he still hoped that, whether human or zombie, a sliver of sanity could remain. There was no need to resort to such extreme behavior.
This world hasn't been completely destroyed yet, has it?
Did no one attend nine years of compulsory education?
Even if there's only one person left alive, morality must not fall.
He headed toward the real estate agency to help Lý Mai and her daughter find a place to stay.
In recent years, Hoàng City had developed rapidly. A large number of people from other places had poured in, contributing to its growth. Consequently, housing prices had soared, making homeownership difficult for the average person.
But when it came to renting, the older apartment complexes became the first choice—cheap and functional.
Before long, he returned to his own complex, where a real estate agency was located right next door.
Carrying his sword, Lam Pham avoided provoking zombies along the way. Of course, if any zombies provoked him, he would not hesitate to defend himself.
Tan Phong Real Estate Agency.
He knew the owner of this agency—Cố Văn. A young, handsome man who had risen up from the countryside to build his own career. Quite admirable.
Lam Pham had even met Cố Văn's girlfriend—a woman in her forties.
The moment he saw them together, he became convinced that true love exists in this world, and that love knows no age. The two were very affectionate, and Lam Pham often saw Cố Văn snuggling in her arms, occasionally showing a more masculine side by kissing her in public.
Quite the show-offs.
Now that the apocalypse had arrived, he wondered how the couple was doing.
Standing at the door, he looked at the property listings displayed outside.
"Hoa Viên Apartment, 10th floor, 2 bedrooms, 1 living room – 2300."
That was right next to his complex.
He kept looking.
"Sunshine Apartment, 3rd and 5th floors, 2 bedrooms, 1 living room – 2000."
Not in his own building. He had to keep searching. It wasn't just about price—he needed a unit that was close to his own. Safety was a top concern.
With zombies everywhere, if people were hoping for his help, they surely wanted to be nearby for protection. After all, he was strong now. Killing zombies was like chopping vegetables—slash slash slash!
Absolutely terrifying.
"Finding a place really isn't easy," Lam Pham muttered as he scratched his head.
Creak!
The glass door of the agency swung open.
"Ah, boss, you're here! Where's your girlfriend?" Lam Pham looked up and immediately recognized the person who had now become a zombie. Despite the transformation, he still retained some of his handsome features. His face was pale, his eyes vacant, his movements stiff—but he was still recognizably young and good-looking.
"Boss, I'm here to look at apartments. I'm helping someone. Just need something in the same building as mine, cheap if possible."
"Even though you've turned into a zombie, we used to be friends. Please don't attack me. I really don't want to cut you down."
Lam Pham sighed—he knew he was talking nonsense.
"Raaaargh..."
The zombie growled, its primal instincts on full display.
Slash! Slash!
With a single, fluid motion, Lam Pham sliced the once-handsome boss cleanly in two. Black blood gushed out, staining the floor.
"Sigh..." Lam Pham exhaled, a little mournful. There was nothing more to say.
This apocalypse... it's really too cruel.
"Sorry, boss."
He stood at the entrance. The office was empty now, so he walked in. He hadn't found a suitable place outside, but maybe there'd be something inside.
Inside were a few desks with computers and stacks of flyers.
"Ah..."
One listing caught his eye.
"Sunshine Apartment, Block 2, Unit 804, 2 bedrooms, 1 living room – 1800."
Finally, a perfect match. Just what he had in mind. It should be perfect for the mother and daughter.
From memory, an old man used to live upstairs but had passed away a few months ago—probably vacant now.
The listing had the owner's contact number.
"Could this be it? Finally." Lam Pham looked excited as he pulled out his phone and dialed the number.
On a rooftop of a high-rise building...
A group of people huddled together, their faces pale with fear.
The apocalypse had come suddenly. Fortunately, they lived in a luxury complex with gated security. Not just anyone could enter. After some struggle, they managed to clear the zombies from the building.
Now, when they had nothing to do, they stared at the sky, hoping for rescue. A helicopter would be a dream come true.
Unfortunately, they hadn't even seen a shadow of one these past few days.
Buzz buzz!
Suddenly, a middle-aged man's phone vibrated.
He hadn't thrown it away. To modern people, a phone was their last tether to humanity. Without it, what was left?
As the ringtone echoed, the man's expression changed. He clung to the hope that this was a rescue call.
He answered, only to be stunned by the voice on the other end.
"Hello, Mr. Tran, you listed an apartment with Tan Phong Real Estate. I was wondering if it's still available for rent?"
Clack!
Tran Cuong slammed the phone down in anger.
Who the hell was this? Can't they see what's happening out there? Are they blind?
Back at the real estate office...
"What the hell was that about?" Lam Pham frowned and redialed.
"F* your mother!"** the voice roared on the other end.
"Mr. Tran, there's no need for such language. I'm just trying to rent your apartment," Lam Pham said calmly. He didn't get angry—he understood that the other party might be under a lot of stress.
"Screw off."
The call ended again.
"Sigh... people are really losing it these days," Lam Pham muttered.
Before he could say more, the phone rang again.
"What the hell do you want!?" the man barked.
Lam Pham replied, "Mr. Tran, I really just want to rent your apartment. There's no need to be so aggressive."
"Haha! Fine, take it! I'm on the third-floor rooftop of the International Assembly Building—come get it yourself!" Tran Cuong snapped. After so many days of stress and desperation, his eyes were bloodshot, his mind fraying.
Clack!
"Tran bro, what's wrong?" someone nearby asked. A young man in his twenties with a sharp haircut. He came from a wealthy and powerful family—his father a government official, his mother in business.
Normally, someone like him wouldn't call anyone "bro," but in this situation, he had no choice. Tran Cuong was strong and reliable—a valuable asset in the apocalypse.
"Some idiot prank calling about renting an apartment."
The young man pulled Tran Cuong aside, speaking in hushed tones.
"Tran bro, I've calculated—our supplies will last maybe two more weeks at most."
Tran Cuong frowned. "So...?"
The youth whispered, "There are fifteen of us. Four of them are elderly couples. I say... we don't need to keep them. Kill them."
Tran Cuong looked at the four old folks. They were two elderly couples.
When the apocalypse started, no one thought food would be such a big issue. But they quickly realized that supplies were key to survival.
Being rich folks, they didn't keep much food at home—just fresh stuff bought daily by housekeepers. Alcohol? Plenty of that, though.
When they were at their lowest, those elderly couples had shared their hidden food supplies with the group. It helped everyone survive the toughest days.
But now?
Tran Cuong was a ruthless man. So what if the food was from them? Everyone just wanted to live.
The young man leaned in. "After we deal with the old folks, we can kill the men too. As for the women—keep the pretty ones. We don't know how long this will last, so might as well enjoy ourselves."
Tran Cuong hesitated. "Doing this openly... people might object."
"Don't worry, Tran bro. Leave it to me." The young man's smile was crazed. His plan was simple: kill everyone—then even Tran Cuong—and all the supplies would be his.
He didn't want to die. He'd seen the zombies. He knew he couldn't outrun them, couldn't outfight them.
But manipulating people? That, he was good at.
After everything they'd been through, these survivors were no longer truly human. Deep inside, they had already fallen into darkness.
Power, wealth, influence—none of them had clean hands. As long as it meant surviving a little longer, they would do anything.
Even if it meant silencing their own conscience...