The basketball rolled toward his feet, almost like it had a mind of its own.
He picked it up, imagining some kind of dance routine using a basketball as a prop, but then he shook his head—better not. His basketball skills were atrocious.
He was about to put the basketball back, but then thought of the old folks—and Phỉ Phỉ's growing body.
There weren't many recreational activities in the residential complex, so he figured he might as well buy it and bring it back. It could help them stay active. So he tossed it into the shopping cart.
But at that moment, a low growl rang out. He looked up and saw, at some point, a strange zombie had appeared ahead—crouched low like an animal crawling on all fours.
It was a female zombie, dressed in a skirt. The color of the skirt was hard to make out due to the bloodstains. Her long, dirty hair was matted with a sticky substance that looked like bits of flesh and blood.
Roar!
The female zombie howled, her face twisted with rage. Unlike most other zombies who would charge at the sight of a living person, she seemed more curious, observing rather than attacking.
"Hello there..." Lâm Phàm raised a hand in greeting. Being friendly was a form of communication between humans—and even if the other party was a zombie, that didn't mean communication wasn't possible. People talk to animals, after all, and animals often understand.
He believed zombies could understand too.
This was the apocalypse.
People nowadays were aggressive and unfriendly. He didn't like it.
Right after he spoke—
Roar!
The female zombie screamed again and darted away. Within seconds, she disappeared from view. He could hear her dashing at high speed across the shelves, and in a blink, she reappeared at the end of the aisle behind him.
"You're really fast, huh? Were you an athlete before?" Lâm Phàm asked.
He chatted with the zombie casually.
She hadn't attacked him, so he had no reason to attack her.
He observed this peculiar zombie. Her legs were long and slim—clearly, she had taken care of them when alive. Most women loved to have thin, long legs, like chopsticks.
Her arms were slender too, but her exposed skin was marked with black veins, giving off a strange feeling.
The zombie bounced around, crawling on top of shelves, occasionally baring her teeth and growling. She moved rapidly, almost like walking on flat ground atop the shelves, showing excellent balance.
"Really fast... faster than any zombie I've seen so far." Lâm Phàm generously offered his praise. Compliments, after all, often improved people's moods.
He once joined a praise-focused online forum where everyone was extremely friendly. Every morning, they would post compliments, making each day a little brighter.
It seemed this female zombie wanted to show off her speed. She kept zipping back and forth, running at high speed from one side of the aisle to the other.
But Lâm Phàm could clearly see every movement. No matter how fast she ran, he could track her.
He even felt that he might be able to run faster than her.
But he chose not to say it.
After all, he wasn't a professional athlete. If an amateur like him could outpace someone who had once trained professionally, that would just be sad. It would hurt their pride. So he stayed quiet.
"Hey, I know you're fast, but you need to pay attention to your surroundings. You're knocking everything off the shelves—this kind of behavior..."
Roar!
Before he could finish, the female zombie lunged at him, claws outstretched. Her fingers were long, black, and sharp—clearly dangerous.
Slash!
He swung his sword once.
His eyes were calm, with a hint of regret.
In that moment, the zombie seemed frozen in place. A line split across her forehead as her body was cleaved in two. Blood spilled across the floor. Frostmourne felt like it struck something hard—but he didn't care. Probably just bone.
[Killed Speed-Type Mutated Zombie]
[Points Earned: +3]
"I guess those three corpses earlier were your handiwork. Your claws really are sharp... too dangerous," Lâm Phàm muttered, shaking his head. He pushed his cart and continued shopping.
At the checkout counter—
"I'm done. Please ring me up."
He mumbled to the empty cashier booth. Not that he was weird—talking to yourself was normal, like when people look in the mirror and ask, "Am I handsome or what?"
He entered the booth and scanned the groceries.
The bills were separated—some items were for Lý chị and her daughter, others for the old folks. Since he had all three of their payment cards, he couldn't just lump everything together.
Maybe they all got along well.
But even the best relationships required fairness. If someone constantly felt shortchanged, things would fall apart quickly.
Soon, he finished organizing the receipts and checked out.
He had too many items to carry, and the reusable bags weren't cutting it. He had to borrow the shopping cart for now. Once he got everything home, he'd return it. Just meant a bit of extra walking—no big deal.
He left the supermarket, pushing the cart along the quiet streets.
A lonely figure on an empty road, carrying the hope of the survivors in the complex. Occasionally, a zombie passed by, adding a touch of dark flair.
Lâm Phàm was in a great mood. He genuinely enjoyed helping others. Even though he acted indifferent when Lý chị and the old men thanked him, deep down, he was pleased.
He was still a young man, after all. Everyone enjoys being praised.
Who doesn't like being called a good boy?
Still, he knew he had to keep working hard. He believed Hoàng thị would recover one day. He needed to keep making money, buy a car, a big house, and build a better life.
Even if storms came, even if the world fell apart, he wouldn't give up.
At that moment—
He stopped.
Ahead were two connected storefronts.
Tân Hoa Bookstore.
It was a very old-fashioned name. Bookstores like this had gradually disappeared over time. Even those that still existed were usually tiny shops with minimal space.
What caught his eye was how this bookstore was different from the other stores around it.
Everything else was messy, cluttered, and trashed—but inside the bookstore, the books were still neatly arranged.
"Of course. Book lovers wouldn't dare mishandle a book—even during the apocalypse."
Lâm Phàm sighed in admiration.
He stepped inside.
Thinking of Phỉ Phỉ, he figured she needed some workbooks. Not only to help her study, but to ease her anxiety. After all, the world was chaotic now.
But he didn't want Phỉ Phỉ to be affected by the apocalypse.
He wanted her to live like she used to—study, finish school, and do her homework when she got home.
So he picked out a few workbooks.
Math, literature, geography, history...
That should be enough.
Once she finished these, he'd get her some more.
They were cheap. Not worth mentioning. What mattered was watching a child's knowledge grow. That was something to be happy about.
He smiled at the stack of workbooks.
Thinking about how Phỉ Phỉ would react when she saw them—
She'd be touched, for sure.
It was easy to tell that Phỉ Phỉ was a little girl who loved to study.