The apartment door opened slowly and soundlessly. Azlan peeked through the narrow gap, his eyes sweeping the empty corridor that was dirty and messy.
Making sure there were no zombies in the corridor, he carefully exited the apartment, his body pressed against the wall.
Now, in the open corridor, he realized the building was small—only two floors. He saw iron stairs connecting the upper floor to the ground. Azlan gripped the baseball bat tightly in his hand, each of his steps feeling heavy to his ears. He was ready to swing the bat at any moment.
Once he reached the ground floor, he immediately rushed toward a large tree not far from the building. Hiding behind the thick trunk, he stuck his head out to observe the situation.
From behind the tree trunk, he observed a figure moving across the street.
"Actually, how long has this zombie outbreak been going on? Based on their appearance, these zombies don't look like people who were just recently infected."
No one could answer Azlan's doubts.
The zombie was a woman, or what remained of her. Her clothes were a tattered office dress covered in black substance. Her skin was grayish-green, rotting in several places, revealing muscle and bone underneath.
Half of her face was gone, leaving empty eye sockets and teeth displayed in a horrifying smile. Small maggots moved inside wounds on her arms and neck. The aroma emanating from her body was truly nauseating, far more putrid than animal carcasses Azlan had ever smelled at the refugee camp.
If it were a normal person experiencing this situation for the first time, they would surely vomit the contents of their stomach and be scared half to death. However, Azlan was not an ordinary person.
As a civilian surviving in an occupied country, corpses and the smell of death were everyday sights. The horror he now saw was just a different version.
"Before planning for the future, let me gather intelligence first."
In a short time, Azlan began formulating strategies in his mind:
"First, what attracts zombies' attention? Sight? Human scent? Or sound?"
He needed to test which sense was most dominant in zombies to devise a movement plan.
"Second, test how strong zombies are. Is their physical strength greater than ordinary people because the limiter in the brain no longer restricts them?"
He had to know how much energy was needed to neutralize them.
"Third, weaknesses. In movies and games, the head is always a zombie's weak point. But this is the real world, it's not impossible there are differences. Anyway, knowledge in movies is mostly fake, something exaggerated."
He had to confirm the most effective kill spot.
"Lastly, don't let zombies wound me. Whether it's a scratch or a bite, I must avoid the slightest injury."
This was the golden rule. One small mistake, one scratch, and everything would end. Azlan had already experienced death once; he didn't want to rise again as one of them.
His eyes shifted to that lone female zombie. It was the perfect test subject. With the baseball bat in hand and katana on his back, Azlan prepared to shift from observer to hunter.
The first step in surviving in this new world was understanding his enemy, and there was no better way than direct experience.
With measured and silent steps, Azlan closed the distance between himself and the female zombie.
Each step brought him closer to the unbearable putrid smell that stung his nose. However, his face remained flat, his hand gripping the baseball bat tightly, ready to strike like a snake if the creature turned around.
Ten meters... Five meters... Two meters...
Azlan now stood right behind her, so close that he could see the detail of every wound and the moving maggot colonies. His eyes occasionally glanced around, making sure there were no other threats sneaking up.
The environment remained quiet, only filled by the sighing wind and the zombie's dragging footsteps.
(Confirmed. Human scent is not a trigger for attacking humans. Next is sight.)
With growing confidence, Azlan dared to take a bigger risk. With a careful lateral step, he circled around, placing himself directly in the path of the female zombie's vision, and stared at her.
The empty eyes in that half-skull face didn't react at all. No change, no pursuit. The creature just kept swaying in place, trapped in its own aimless reality.
(Good, it's not sight either. The only thing left is sound. If zombies are attracted by sound, my survival chances increase drastically.)
Azlan felt his confidence in survival soar. As long as he moved without making loud noises, he was sure he could live safely in this post-apocalyptic world. However, he still needed confirmation.
He picked up a stone from a crack in the asphalt, and with a low throw, tossed it at the metal plate of a car door lying several meters beside them.
*CLANG!*
The loud metallic thud broke the silence. The effect was immediate. The female zombie, who had been lethargic before, seemed electrocuted. Her head jerked toward the sound source, and with a sudden rough movement, she began walking—faster than before—toward the location of the sound.
She growled and grabbed at empty air, aggressive but without a target. When she found no prey, her movements slowed back to meaningless swaying.
(Sorry, I don't know you, but for the sake of survival, you'll be my experience in killing zombies.)
There was no more reason to delay. Azlan approached the female zombie from the side-rear, the safest position. With both hands gripping the baseball bat, he swung it with full force and precise accuracy at the side of the creature's head.
*BANG!*
The result exceeded his expectations. The zombie's skull didn't just crack but completely shattered like a watermelon falling from height. Brain fluid and bone fragments scattered, staining the surrounding ground. Its body collapsed limply, finally still forever.
"Weak, too weak..."
Azlan was slightly surprised by the effectiveness of his attack.
"Could it be that zombie strength weakens because their bodies rot as time passes? That's not impossible, seasonal changes cause corpse decomposition processes. Especially in summer, the duration is faster."
He stared at the headless corpse for a moment, then looked away while shaking his baseball bat to clean off the clinging organ remnants.
"It's confirmed the head is a zombie's weakness. What remains is knowing the cause of zombification, but that problem can be postponed, as long as I'm not injured by zombies, I should be fine."
"To be safe, don't drink from water sources that might be contaminated with the virus. So, mineral water is the best choice."
Then, his empty stomach growled, reminding him of the most urgent need. Finding food was the absolute priority.
With a clear goal, Azlan began to move, exploring the city's deserted and dangerous streets. He became a ghost among shadows, always alert, always avoiding.
If he encountered a group of zombies gathered together, he would take a detour without hesitation. However, when only two or three zombies blocked his path, he no longer used the noisy baseball bat. Instead, he drew the katana from his back.
*SWOOSH!* *SWOOSH!* *SWOOSH!*
*THUD!* *THUD!* *THUD!*
With one quick and precise horizontal slash, he beheaded the first. Before the first body fell, Azlan had already reversed his sword and slashed the second zombie's neck. That head flew off, its body collapsed. For the third zombie, he thrust the katana's tip precisely under the chin, penetrating straight to the brain.
Three zombies and three movements. Almost soundless except for the whoosh of wind from the sword blade and the sound of falling bodies.
"Indeed, using a sharp weapon is more convenient. But its disadvantage is also clear, the blade wears out quickly."
He observed slight scratches and dullness on his katana blade. Azlan realized that in a world without resources, maintaining the sharpness and condition of weapons was key.
Although the baseball bat was noisier and required more physical strength, it was a more durable choice and ideal for situations that didn't require total silence. The katana was a 'special' weapon that had to be saved for critical situations.
Putting the katana back in its sheath, Azlan continued exploring the city.