Wasteland Nation
Ch. 5 - There's Always a Greater Sky

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The sanatorium was in chaos. Messages in the WeChat group revealed that most survivors were staff members, gripped by panic. Ordinary people, unawakened and struggling to grasp the new reality. Chen Liu scrolled through the chat, searching for mentions of Physical-type abilities he could copy. Nothing useful, he thought, his expression tightening with disappointment. Either no one had such an ability, or they were keeping quiet.

A suggestion in the group urged survivors to gather at the cafeteria building. It made sense—food and numbers meant safety in the apocalypse. Chen Liu’s villa, stocked only with a few buckets of instant noodles, couldn’t sustain him long. The idea gained traction, but he wasn’t ready to join. Crowds bring rules, no privacy, and shared loot, he thought, his face set with caution. With his current strength, mixing with others risked complications. The apocalypse’s early chaos offered a rare chance to hunt crystals alone. Once high-level zombies emerged and organised the weaker ones, killing them would grow harder. I need to level up now, he thought, his expression resolute.

Chen Liu finished his noodles, locked the bedroom windows and doors, and pushed a table against the door for extra security. One mistake could end me, he accepted with dismay. He kept the gateball mallet close, settling for a light nap rather than deep sleep. When he woke, his energy had returned. He packed a backpack with a bottle of mineral water and gauze, then slipped out.

Most undead on the roads were slow-moving corpses; zombies were less common. Chen Liu entered Old Wang’s villa next door, climbing through a window since the front door was locked. Indoor fights were quieter, less likely to draw a horde. A corpse pounded at the door, trapped since the outbreak, too dull to open it. When it saw Chen Liu, it lunged. He waited, dodged, and drove the mallet’s sharp end through its skull. Crack—the corpse collapsed. He kicked it aside, stabbed three more times, and reduced its head to pulp. One-star zombies are no match now, he observed.

These zombies, once elderly residents with frail bodies, gained limited strength from transformation. A soldier-turned-zombie would be worse, he thought as a chill went through his body. Their retained combat instincts could outmatch star rankings. He extracted a white crystal and searched the villa, finding only anti-inflammatory drugs and cold medicine. Moving villa to villa, he avoided outdoor fights when possible, luring undead inside for safer kills. By evening, he had eleven one-star crystals, some medicine, food, and a pair of binoculars. As dusk fell, he returned home. Night’s too risky.

Over instant noodles, Chen Liu checked WeChat. Survivors had reached the cafeteria, some with bedding. One, a “Bronze-Skin Iron-Bones” Awakened, led the charge against zombies. This E-rank defensive ability offered high resistance to physical damage, ideal for early zombie fights. It’s copyable, but has weak potential. Chen Liu was sceptical. An E-rank ability capped at full-body bronze skin and iron bones. The B-rank “Indestructible Golden Body,” capable of deflecting bullets and, at higher levels, artillery, was far superior. I’ll wait, he decided.

He opened Weibo for news. If the sanatorium was a storm, cities were a hurricane—true apocalyptic chaos. Survivors hid in homes, offices, or stairwells, posting online to cling to a sense of humanity. Isolated islands in a sea of undead. Chen Liu imagined how lonely and scared they all felt. Two names stood out: “Wing,” a man with C-rank demonic wings, hovered above streets, facing thousands of zombies in a viral photo. Perfect for my ability. Chen Liu watched with envy. The wings offered unmatched mobility, but Wing was far from Jiangchuan Province. The other, the “Flame Queen,” incinerated over a hundred zombies with a single fireball in a video. At least Five-Star, Chen Liu imagined. His earlier confidence was shaken. His face grew serious. Cities, packed with zombies, offered more crystals, forging powerhouses. Others are out there, hiding their strength, he thought, urgency rising.

Before bed, he scanned the surroundings with binoculars. Zombies stood in the streets, staring at the moon, cultivating with its yin-aligned energy. They’re getting stronger every day. Unlike Awakened, who needed crystals to refine energy until becoming Evolvers, zombies used blood, crystals, and moonlight. In this evolutionary race, no one could afford to lag. There’s always a greater sky, he hoped. Then, he prepared to absorb crystals and reach Three-Star.

thINKer: Finally, Chen Liu sees other Awakened and a greater sky. Humanity might just survive.   

Footnotes

[^1]: Yin-aligned energy, rooted in Chinese philosophy, is associated with the moon, darkness, and passivity, here used by zombies to cultivate strength.