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Chapter 1

"Help me! Oh my god, anyone inside?" The rap-tapping and a woman's desperate cry echoed through the hallway. Richardson Smith peeked through the peephole and saw a stunning blonde outside. Normally, he wouldn't think twice about opening the door for such a beauty. However, beauty was not the priority here. His scarce food storage wouldn't even allow him to share with anyone even if it was the most gorgeous woman in the world. Richardson had to shut her out.

Clutching his pocket watch, he snapped, "Shut up, you idiot! You'll bring those damn zombies right to us!" Just yesterday, he was a regular office worker. One night's sleep later, he woke up in a post-apocalyptic nightmare, with only his family heirloom pocket watch for company.

After witnessing the zombies upstairs feasting on humans, he had no illusions left about this world.

In this apocalypse, zombies were terrifying, but human nature was the real danger!

"Help me, please! I live downstairs. I heard noises from here this morning. Please, give me some food! I'm a model. I can give you gold, all my savings, anything for a bite. Please, I'm starving." The woman's sobs were heart-wrenching. Seeing her determination, Richardson hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and opened the door. "Get in, quick!"

The woman's eyes lit up with hope as she scrambled to her feet. But it was too late! The zombies in the corridor had already heard the commotion and were closing in on Richardson's place.

"Damn it!" Richardson cursed, yanking the woman inside and slamming the door shut. From past experience, he knew that if they stayed quiet, the zombies would eventually wander off.

He glared at the woman. He didn't care about her model looks or long legs. If she made any noise, she was dead. Luckily, she seemed to know the deal. She mimicked zipping her mouth, stayed quiet, and sat in the corner, her eyes scanning the room for food. 'The only piece of bread left is in my pocket. You won't find anything else!' Richardson thought angrily. He wasn't a saint, but in this apocalypse, he didn't know when he'd eat again. No way was he trading food for a woman.

He started thinking about how to get out and find more food. In this terrifying new world, how was he going to survive?

Absentmindedly, he fiddled with the old pocket watch hanging from his neck. It was an antique bronze mechanical watch he used to wind up every day before work.

As he waited for the zombies to leave, he wound the watch out of habit.

"Give me something to eat, I'm starving! I'm a noble model! I have luxury cars and mansions! How could I possibly starve to death?" Suddenly, the beautiful woman in the corner started screaming like a maniac. Richardson glanced over and saw her face had gone pale, and there was a nasty scratch on her neck oozing black blood. "Damn it," he muttered, "she must've been scratched by a zombie on her way up here!"

Realizing she was turning into a zombie, he was racking his brain to figure out a way to tackle the coming trouble in front of him when he saw an axe on the ground and reached out. But just as his fingers left the winding crown of the pocket watch, everything froze!

The woman, mid-scream and mid-pounce, was stuck in place. The zombies outside, who had been trying to break down the door, also stopped dead in their tracks. Richardson picked up the axe, but seeing this bizarre scene, he paused, totally confused.

After a moment, he burst into laughter. Since the apocalypse hit, he hadn't laughed like this. He laughed so loudly!

"Stop time! This pocket watch can actually stop time!" He looked at the old watch in his hand, grinning from ear to ear.

Ignoring the woman who could've attacked him any second and the zombies outside still roaring, he even reached out and pinched her pale face. Feeling the stiff touch, he shook his head and said, "What a waste, such a beautiful model turning into a zombie."

With that, he aimed the axe at her neck and swung down hard. Because time was stopped, her body didn't spurt blood. He tossed her aside and sat on the sofa, starting to figure out the time-stopping function of the pocket watch. This could be his ticket to surviving and thriving in this post-apocalyptic world.

He closed the pocket watch, and in the next second, time resumed. The body in the corner sprayed blood everywhere, and the zombies outside continued clawing at the door. He opened the watch again, and as the hands started to move, the world froze once more.

Seeing this, Richardson finally understood. "Excellent. After winding it up, I just need to open the pocket watch to stop time. So, this means I have the whole world at my disposal! Fantastic. A wonderful day ahead. I could see myself driving a sports car with a slice of hot pizza and beer in my hands on the road already!"

Grabbing the pocket watch, Richardson got up excitedly and opened the door. He kicked the frozen zombies out of the way, looked at the tall buildings outside, and shouted, "Apocalypse world, here I come!" Then he turned back to the zombies who had almost killed him, holding the axe with a fierce smile. "Thanks for taking care of me these past few days. Before I leave, please allow me to present my farewell gift!"

Like a madman, he raised the axe and brought it down on a zombie's head. The cracking sound of bones breaking echoed as the axe severed the zombie's neck. The head, still attached by a bit of flesh, hung awkwardly in front of the zombie's chest. He shook his hand, ignoring the gory scene, and got ready to take out the rest of the zombies.

Just a second before he was about to act, Richardson felt a strange energy surge into his body. It was pure, warm, and oddly comforting, giving him the sense that his genes were evolving.

He clenched his fists, feeling the changes coursing through him, and muttered, "I can feel it, I'm getting stronger. So, killing zombies brings rewards? I wonder if this is just me or if others could feel it too."

After a moment of thought, Richardson confirmed that the energy wasn't harmful and continued swinging the axe at the next zombie.

In the time it took to drink a cup of coffee, he had already cleared out the zombies outside his door. Feeling refreshed, he leaned against the hallway wall, rubbing his sore arms, and couldn't help but smile bitterly. Killing zombies was hard work, but the rewards were worth it. The energy he absorbed had reached a threshold. If everything went smoothly, he estimated that killing a few dozen more zombies might elevate his genes to the next level.

He closed his eyes and thought, 'What will happen after collecting enough of this energy? Awakening special abilities? Becoming a superhuman? Anyway, first, I'll rest, then head to the supermarket for food, and hit the gun store to upgrade my gear!'

Feeling his arms less sore, Richardson found a large backpack in the room, packed the last piece of bread and a big bottle of water.

Standing at the doorway, he surveyed the room and said, "Farewell, home, sweet home. Thank you for your two days' service."

After bidding farewell, Richardson opened the pocket watch to stop time and swaggered out of the building.

On the street, he saw nothing but zombies. He swallowed hard and mustered the courage to walk forward. Standing in the middle of the zombie horde, he spotted a large supermarket.

"After I rest my arms and eat something, I'll come back to kill you bastards!" he muttered, suppressing the urge to chop down all the zombies on the street, and hurried towards the supermarket.

Just as he was about to rush in for a free shopping spree, he caught a glimpse of a woman waving for help from a building next to the supermarket. The time stoppage made it hard to see exactly what she was doing, but considering the apocalyptic setting, she was probably calling for help.

No matter what she was doing, the real taker of Richardson's attention was the only piece of fabric on her body, her underwear. 'I can't expose my pocket watch's ability. So, before I go to save her, I better get myself fed up and grab some new gear at the gun store first!'

After all, that woman looked pretty good from a distance. With a plan in mind, Richardson didn't waste any time and entered the looted supermarket. The chaotic scene in front of him told the story of how many times this place had been ransacked since the apocalypse hit.

He picked up an intact package of chocolate from a fallen shelf, found a few unexpired loaves of bread in another area, and grabbed two bottles of cola. Swiftly collecting the necessary supplies, he left the supermarket.

Throughout this process, he didn't make any unnecessary movements or check the warehouse or other areas. Even though he could stop time, this was still the post-apocalyptic world. One thing that should never be tested was human nature!

The gun store raid went more smoothly. Although the door was locked, Richardson easily entered through a smashed window.

Looking around, he sighed. "A fortress is often breached from within. These corpses were clearly shot before being eaten by zombies. One can only imagine the stories here. But for me, it's good news. No humans left means I can find some good weapons and gear."

As he muttered, he realized he had gotten used to talking to himself since arriving in this post-apocalyptic world. This habit wasn't a good sign.

After killing a zombie squatting in the ammunition room with an axe, Richardson, panting heavily, used his phone to light up the dim room and began to search.

First, he needed a gun, even just a handgun. Anyone who had seen Resident Evil knew that using a gun to shoot zombies wasn't as fast as using a knife to chop them. Especially for Richardson, who could stop time, a sharp long knife would be the best weapon.

But that didn't mean a gun was useless! A gun was fast within 30 feet and accurate within 10 feet. When facing humans, Richardson might encounter unpredictable situations, so even with the pocket watch, his top priority was finding a handgun for self-defense. Well, he had to admit he was also thinking about the woman upstairs in the supermarket.

After a bit of searching, Richardson found a handgun. "This will do. Low recoil and very convenient." Although he didn't recognize the model, after a few simple tests of the safety and firing, he was quite satisfied.

Since he could always come back for more powerful firepower later, he wasn't overly greedy. He put two boxes of bullets in his backpack and left the small room to find a more efficient cold weapon. At the same time, the old pocket watch suddenly closed, and time began to resume.

Upstairs in the supermarket, intern doctor Anna Johnson was vigorously waving for help at the window. Although her physical strength was waning, the will to survive drove her to keep going. She hoped against hope that a good samaritan could pop up and come to her rescue. The zombies had already broken into Anna's home, and she was just one door away from being torn to pieces!

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