7:00 a.m.
Amitesh walked toward the room where he stored all the alcohol, cigarettes, and tobacco.
His steps were steady. In his hand, he carried a bottle of lemonade he had just prepared.
Why did I even keep this stuff? he thought. Alcohol, fine. But cigarettes and tobacco? That was just stupidity.
Empty Old Monk bottles lay scattered across the floor. In the middle of it all, a girl with short neck-length hair slept like nothing in the world could bother her.
He walked closer and nudged her shoulder.
"Gauri. Wake up. It's morning."
A pause.
"…Did you seriously drink all of that?"
She blinked, squinting at him, then frowned.
"Uh… who are you?"
He exhaled through his nose. "Oh, come on."
She kept staring.
"I'm Amitesh," he said. "Don't tell me alcohol wiped out your memory already."
Her expression changed instantly. She reached up and grabbed his face.
"Oh, it is you," she said, smiling lazily. "Relax, I was kidding. You look different though—cleaner. Shaved suits you."
She tugged his cheeks. "And hey… did you get taller?"
She started squeezing and pulling his cheeks like he was a baby.
"Stop it and get back to your senses," Amitesh said, annoyance creeping into his voice.
She laughed, clearly enjoying his discomfort.
Great, he thought. A drunk with zero boundaries.This girl is a nightmare when she's drunk.
He handed her the bottle. "Drink this."
She took it without asking, gulped half of it down, then leaned back against a crate.
"…Wow. Okay. That helps."
"You good now?" he asked.
"My head's still spinning," she said. "But yeah. Better."
He hesitated. ""Isn't it pretty harmful for you to drink that much alcohol?"
She waved him off. "I'm fine."
"That's not an answer."
She glanced at him sideways. "Check my status."
"My what?"
Before he could argue, a screen appeared.
He stared at it for a long second.
"…You're kidding."
"Nope."
The system confirmed it, far too casually.
Gauri grinned. "See? Built different."
He rubbed his face. "Of course you are."
System — Status
Name: Gauri (System Master)
Body Enchantment: Alcohol and cigarette smoke have no bad effect on body.
Special Skill: not showing for security reasons
Special Item: Lighter made of bulletproof glass
Amitesh stared. "Seriously?"
"Yes," the system replied.
She shifted, suddenly more serious. "Amitesh… I need a favor."
His shoulders tensed. "I don't like how that sounds."
"I know," she said quickly. "Just listen."
She took a breath. "When we met, we were running from zombies. We had a military truck—special unit. We had to abandon it. My walkie-talkie is still there. If I can reach the camp, they can send help."
He didn't respond right away.
"And?" he finally said.
"And I was sent to find resources," she continued carefully. "Food, shelter, anything useful. You have more than enough to save people. I thought maybe—"
"No," he said immediately.
She stopped. "I didn't even finish."
"I know where it was going," he replied. "And the answer's still no."
"If they come here, they'll take everything," he continued. "This place, my supplies, my control. I won't survive that."
She looked down.
"…People are starving," she said quietly.
"Some of them won't make it another week."
He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.
A long silence passed.
"…Where's the truck?" he asked.
Her head snapped up. "You'll help?"
"I said I'll think about it," he corrected.
"Start by telling me where it is."
"I don't know," she admitted.
He sighed. "System. Help."
The screen appeared again.
"Ten kilometers," the system said.
A route formed.
Amitesh raised an eyebrow. "So now you're a GPS too."
"Multi-functional," the system replied.
He nodded once. "I'll go."
Gauri's face lit up instantly. "Thank you—really. I—."
She stopped herself, biting her lip.She seemed like she wanted to say more—but held back, afraid of asking too much.
A cold voice cut through the room.
"She sober yet?"
Zoey stood in the doorway, changed into baggy army jeans and a blue crop top,Her ponytail was tied high, her presence sharp and alert.
She stepped inside, boots heavy against the floor.
"You're not drunk anymore, right?" Zoey asked Gauri, her voice calculating.
"Very," Gauri said, smiling. "Wanna check?"Gauri replied with a mischievous smile.
She raised her hands playfully. "Come on, sis Zoey. Let me touch those perfectly round—"
"Fuck off. Stay away from me, you drunken lesbian bitch," Zoey snapped, stepping back and covering her chest.
"Hehe, just once," Gauri teased.
"Touch yourself if you want," Zoey shot back.
"Mine aren't as good as yours."
"Ahem… ahem," Amitesh interrupted.
"Please remember—I'm still here."
Zoey turned, already pulling out her gun.
"Relax," she said calmly, loading it. "Just making sure evidence disappears."
"Whoa—stop,".He raised his hands.
"Alright. Stop. Just stop."
"I didn't see anything. I swear."
The system's voice cut in.
"Alright, kids. Enough all of you."
Zoey lowered the gun, grabbed Gauri by the arm.
"We're leaving," she said.
"Hey, I was flirting," Gauri protested as she was dragged away.
The door shut behind them.
Amitesh stood there, staring at it.
"…What the hell did I get myself into?"
He began gathering the empty bottles, lifting them one by one and carefully placing them in the corner of the room.
From outside, Big Sis Priyanka called out,
"Amitesh, the food is ready. Come eat before it gets cold."
He stepped out, closing the door softly behind him, and walked down the stairs to the ground floor. Everyone was already seated—everyone except Gauri.
Amitesh looked at Zoey.
"She's sleeping," Zoey replied.
They sat down to eat. What amazed him wasn't the quantity of food, but the variety—upma, poha, and poori bhaji. The portions were generous too.
Well, it was food for seven people, after all.
When he lived alone, he never cooked anything special. To be honest, he neither knew how to cook nor cared enough to learn.
His gaze shifted to Priyanka.
A mother is a mother, after all—her heart always open when it comes to feeding others.
Then he glanced at the twin girls and the children. They still avoided looking at him, sitting stiffly, unease clear in their posture.
After the meal, Priyanka busied herself washing the dishes. The children and the twin girls followed her, leaving only Zoey and Amitesh behind.
"Hey, Zoey," he said, turning toward her.
"What?" she replied, clenching her fists.
"I'm going to your truck. Take care of everyone while I'm gone."
Her eyes widened.
"Wait—wait, wait. You're going to our truck? Are you serious?"
"Yes," he replied calmly.
"Amitesh, do you even realize where we are living right now?"
He frowned in confusion. "Well… in this building?"
She pressed her palm to her forehead.
"No. This area falls under the Red Zone. Even if we're on the border, it's still dangerous. The most powerful and dangerous Mushroom Heads live here. And you're saying you're going to the truck? Do you even know why we abandoned it? A massive monster attacked us! You can't go out there."
Suddenly, a system screen appeared in front of Zoey.
System: Don't worry. I'll go with him.
"No!" she yelled.
System: I said—
The usually bright golden-yellow screen turned a blazing orange.
Zoey collapsed to her knees. It felt as if gravity itself had doubled.
"S-sorry…" she said in a trembling voice. "I'm sorry. You can go."
The screen returned to normal.
System: Good 😊
I began packing a small bag—some water bottles and a few pieces of kopra (dried coconut).
A ten-kilometer journey wasn't that long. This would be enough.
As I was about to leave, Zoey called out from behind and held out a gun.
"I know it won't be very useful, but take it."
"I can't," I said.
"Why?"
I replied, embarrassed,
"Because… I don't know how to use a gun."
Zoey stared at him for a moment, disbelief written all over her face.
"You don't know how to use a gun?" she asked.
Amitesh shook his head. "Never learned."
She let out a slow breath and held the gun out again. "Then you'll learn now. We don't have time."
She placed the gun in his hands, adjusting his grip with practiced movements.
"Hold it firmly, but don't squeeze like you're strangling it," she said. "Your right hand here, left hand supporting from below."
She tapped his finger.
"And keep this off the trigger unless you're ready to fire."
He nodded, stiff. "Okay."
Zoey stepped in front of him and pointed toward an empty corridor.
"Now your stance. Feet shoulder-width apart. Lean slightly forward. If you stand straight, the recoil will push you back."
She pulled the slide back halfway, letting him see inside.
"This is the chamber. Always check it before anything else. Empty or loaded—you check."
She released the slide with a sharp click.
"Safety on when you're not shooting. Safety off only when you aim."
Amitesh swallowed. "And… aiming?"
"Front sight," Zoey said. "Focus on this, not the target. Line it up with the rear sight. Don't rush."
She stepped back.
"Now raise the gun."
His hands trembled slightly.
"Breathe," she said quietly. "Slow breath in… slow breath out. Don't hold it."
She placed her hand over his, steadying it.
"When you shoot, don't pull the trigger. Press it. Smooth. Like you're afraid of breaking it."
He nodded again.
"What if something comes too close?" he asked.
Zoey's expression hardened.
"Then you don't hesitate."
She met his eyes.
"You shoot to stop it. Nothing else matters."
Silence filled the room.
Amitesh lowered the gun slightly. "I think I understand."
Zoey took a step back and gave a short nod.
"Good. Because once you step outside, mistakes get you killed."
Zoey stepped back and pointed down the empty corridor.
"Now shoot."
Amitesh stiffened. "Wait… do I really have to?"
"Yes."
She said it with a cold gaze, her eyes sharp and unblinking.
He swallowed and raised the gun again. His hands trembled, the weight of it suddenly unbearable.
"Focus," Zoey said. "Front sight. Breathe."
He inhaled slowly, then exhaled. The world narrowed to the small metal sight in front of him.
The trigger felt harder than he expected.
His finger pressed—hesitant, unsure—
Bang.
The sound exploded through the hallway. The recoil jolted his arms, his ears ringing as the bullet slammed into the far wall, chipping concrete.
Amitesh staggered back a step. "What the—!"
"Don't drop it," Zoey snapped.
He tightened his grip, heart pounding.
"That was recoil," she said flatly. "Now you know."
Smoke curled from the barrel. The sharp smell of gunpowder filled the air.
Amitesh stared at the gun in his hands. "…I shot it."
"Yes," Zoey replied. "And you're still standing."
She walked past him, inspecting the impact mark.
"Next time," she said, turning back to him,
"you won't be shooting a wall."
Her eyes met his again—cold, serious.
"You'll be shooting something that wants to kill you."
System: You did great.
Amitesh slid the gun into his bag.
"Put it in your pocket," Zoey said.
"Well… I don't think I'll use it, so—"
He didn't finish the sentence. Instead, he pulled the bag onto his shoulders and stepped out of the building.
He turned back once.
Everyone was there, standing together, waving goodbye.
He raised a hand in return and began walking.
Two hours later, he reached the truck.
It looked like a military vehicle at first glance—but on closer inspection, it was something far more advanced. Thick metal plating covered its body, and heavy spikes jutted out from the front, back, and sides, giving it a brutal, predatory appearance.
He approached cautiously.
Step by step.
Just as his hand reached for the door—
Boom.
A massive punch slammed into the right side of his face.
Caught completely off guard, his body was thrown through the air. He skidded across the road, rolling several meters before crashing hard onto the asphalt.
"What the hell…?.
His vision swam. His head throbbed with blinding pain.
Warm liquid trickled down his temple.
Blood.
It streamed from the left side of his head where it had struck the road.
His ears rang as the world spun around him.
"…Who attacked me?"