Lena's exquisite body had indeed intoxicated Yasin. He could hardly resist the urge to hide away in the villa all day, indulging in the pleasures of dominating this international superstar.
But Yasin understood—no matter how alluring a woman was, in this apocalyptic world, strength was what truly mattered.
While he enjoyed taming and playing with women, he had to grow stronger, secure more resources, and establish his own safe haven.
Only then could he survive this hellscape, claim more women, and savor greater pleasures.
Otherwise, he might run into a more powerful faction at any moment—one that could seize everything he had, or worse, enslave him.
Moreover, yesterday at Vivian's estate, Yasin had made a terrifying discovery:
The zombies were evolving.
The undead in the estate were different from the ones outside—more grotesque, their bodies harder, their strength, speed, and even intelligence noticeably heightened.
This meant Yasin had to grow stronger, fast. He needed more supplies. He needed a fortress of his own.
And Vivian's estate?
It was perfect.
First, it had running water and electricity.
Second, it was surrounded by high walls and equipped with a full security system. Once powered, the cameras and alarms would function normally.
Plus, the estate was massive.
"System, check my current energy reserves."
[Zombie Core Energy Acquired: 16]
[System Energy Storage: 100% — Ready for Second World traversal.]
[Maximum Stay in Second World: 8 hours.]
He'd killed six zombies in Vivian's backyard and ten more outside the villa, totaling sixteen.
Though the system was fully charged and ready to transport him to the Second World, eight hours wasn't enough.
With no wealth in the Second World, bringing back supplies would be impossible.
For now, crossing over was pointless.
To transfer resources, he needed money—lots of it.
And given his current status in the Second World, accumulating wealth in just a few days? Impossible.
But Yasin had noticed something else.
Every time he killed a zombie and absorbed that white energy, not only did it charge the system—it also altered his body.
Subtly at first, but the changes were undeniable.
His strength had increased. His vision, hearing, reflexes, even his height, stamina, and sexual endurance—all had improved.
Each kill left him euphoric, buzzing with boundless energy.
At first, he wasn't sure if the zombie cores were responsible.
But after last night's ferocious session with Lena, he was certain.
The energy was evolving him.
This revelation made him hungrier for zombie kills.
Pulling back the curtains, Yasin surveyed the villa's front yard.
The sun was harsher today. By 10 AM, its scorching rays had driven most of the undead away, leaving only a dozen sluggish stragglers.
After a moment's thought, Yasin settled on his next moves:
1. Kill more zombies.
2. Clear Vivian's estate room by room.
3. Claim it as his first stronghold.
He scavenged planks, nails, and wooden poles from the toolshed, barricading the villa's shattered front door before slipping out the side entrance, sword in hand.
The Sword's flaw? Reach.
Against zombies, it cleaved through skulls like butter, but in close quarters or against hordes, its limitations showed.
One swing, one kill. No more.
The moment Yasin stepped into the yard, two dormant zombies stirred.
Their milky eyes locked onto him, nostrils flaring as they let out wet, guttural "Hhhhkkk—" groans, staggering upright.
But sluggish daylight zombies?
Pathetic.
With a single flash of steel, two heads tumbled to the ground.
"Roar!~~~"
"Ugh ugh ugh!~~ Ugh ugh!~~"
"Huh huh huh!~~ Huh huh huh~~~"
Hearing the sounds, several other zombies nearby started converging toward the area.
Watching the dozen or so zombies closing in, Yasin recalled a long-handled saber he had seen in a TV show before.
The blade and handle were of equal length, with the longest reaching over two meters.
It was extremely sharp, capable of both slashing and thrusting.
Yasin had previously seen the power of this weapon in an American TV show.
A strong man wielding the saber with full force could slice through five fully grown sows in an instant!
If he had such a powerful weapon, dealing with the dozen or so zombies ahead would be effortless!
With that thought in mind, Yasin swiftly sidestepped and swung his saber, slicing the nearest zombie's head in half.
Dark blood and brain matter splattered everywhere as the zombie collapsed heavily to the ground.
A cluster of milky white energy was swiftly absorbed into Yasin's body.
Utilizing his agility, Yasin continued to eliminate zombies while nimbly dodging across the front yard's grass.
Before long, he had cleared the entire yard of zombies.
Stepping outside the iron gate, under the blazing midday sun, the small town's concrete road was a scene of devastation.
Scattered across the ground were numerous zombie corpses. The originally narrow two-lane road was completely blocked by vehicles abandoned in the chaos of the apocalypse, with dozens of crashed cars creating a horrific scene.
And this was just the outskirts—Yasin could only imagine the level of destruction in the city.
A few zombies were wandering between the vehicles, seemingly searching for prey.
Yasin avoided the main road and instead walked along the relatively spacious sidewalk toward the estate.
Lining the road were numerous small villas, similar in design to the one he had previously stayed in. From Lena Whitmore's villa to the estate, it was about a hundred meters, with seven or eight villas in between.
Earlier, due to the urgency of the situation, Yasin had taken a shortcut and hadn't had the chance to inspect these villas. Now, he had ample time to search them carefully to see if there were any other survivors or useful supplies inside.
However, after searching three villas in a row, Yasin was disappointed.
All three were empty—no survivors, no food. He did find some clothes and US dollars, but in the apocalypse, such things were practically useless.
It wasn't until he reached the fourth villa that he found something worthwhile—a pump-action shotgun.
The shotgun's owner was a burly American man dressed in a U.S. Air Force uniform. When Yasin found him, his corpse had already begun decomposing, emitting a faint stench. His arm bore the clear marks of a zombie bite.
Judging by the state of decomposition, the man had likely died two or three days ago.
It was clear that after being bitten, he had chosen to end his own life with his gun.
His head had exploded from the point-blank shot, splattering the surroundings with blood and brain matter.
Yasin picked up the pump-action shotgun and checked it—there were three rounds left in the chamber. The gun had a name engraved on it: Ken Kalba.
This pump-action shotgun used large-caliber shells, approximately 18.4mm in diameter, with immense power. At close range, it could wipe out multiple targets in a single blast.
However, its accuracy was low, and the noise it produced was enormous—making it not the most ideal weapon in the apocalypse.
Still, a gun was a gun.
Yasin stored the shotgun inside the Dimensional Cube and continued searching the house, but he couldn't find any more ammunition. However, he did discover a combat knife on the man's body and a photograph clutched in his hand.
The photo depicted a family of three.
The background was a plane.
The family looked happy and content.
From the man's build, he was likely the deceased in front of him.
The woman in the picture was a stunning beauty with an alluring figure and a radiant smile.
Between them stood a young girl, around eight or nine years old.
She had golden, wavy hair, adorable large eyes, a well-defined nose, and a distinct mixed-race charm, making her incredibly cute.
The moment Yasin saw the girl's photo, he felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity.
It was as if he had seen her somewhere before.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall where.
Placing the photo back onto the man's chest, Yasin shook his head and continued toward the next villa.
"Hm?!"
The fourth villa was completely different from the previous ones!
To Yasin's surprise, the iron gate was tightly locked.
Moreover, looking through the windows from outside, he noticed that they were heavily barricaded, with curtains tightly drawn over them.
It seemed like someone was inside!
This realization brought a surge of excitement to Yasin's heart.
Glancing at his watch, it was 11:18 AM—high noon. The zombies on the street had either retreated into the woods or were lying motionless under cars, only stirring when Yasin passed by.
After decapitating a few approaching zombies, Yasin carefully surveyed the surroundings.
Once he confirmed it was safe, he decided to investigate.
Finding a suitable spot to climb, Yasin carefully scaled the villa's front yard wall.
The wall wasn't very high—only about two meters. With a running start, Yasin could easily pull himself over. Such a height was more than enough to keep out zombies, which couldn't climb.
The front yard was clean, with no signs of zombie activity—no blood, no remains. It seemed that the family here had been incredibly lucky when the apocalypse struck. They had neither turned into zombies nor recklessly fled outside.
Yasin also noticed fresh soil disturbance in the yard.
The bark of a fruit tree had been stripped in several places.
These signs clearly indicated that someone was still inside the villa!
And more importantly, they were on the brink of starvation, having resorted to eating tree bark and digging up roots.
Storing his sword in the Dimensional Cube, Yasin retrieved his shotgun and cautiously approached the villa's front door.
In this apocalypse, humans were far more dangerous than zombies.
If there were survivors inside, Yasin had no way of knowing whether they would be hostile toward him.
With morality and law no longer in place, combined with the constant threat of death and extreme scarcity of resources, the apocalypse brought out the darkest sides of human nature.
Trust between people had completely collapsed.
In such an environment, anyone could be ruthless and willing to go to any lengths to survive.
The survivors inside could very well try to kill him to steal his supplies—or even just to protect their own.
If someone inside had a firearm and caught him off guard, he could be dead in an instant.
Thus, Yasin had to be extremely careful.
Just as he was about to approach the villa's front door, the curtain on the second floor suddenly moved.