"No way!" All four guys in Dorm 708 shook their heads in unison. Like hell they were going out there—zombies eat people. If you can hole up and survive, why risk your neck?

"Let's just stay put and wait for rescue," said a bespectacled, bookish-looking guy. "As long as we keep quiet and out of sight, the zombies won't find us."

"And what if rescue doesn't come for days?" Sean frowned.

"No big deal. We've still got plenty of food in here. We can hold out for a while," said another guy with a mop of curly hair.

At that, Ethan's eyes lit up.

They'd scavenged through room after room and barely scraped together a few bags of chips and candy. None of them had eaten their fill in days. And now these guys were sitting on a stash big enough to last?

"Mind if we come in for a bit?" Ethan said with a friendly smile. "Standing out here in the hall's just asking to draw zombies."

"Ah—yeah, yeah, come in, quick!"

The moment they heard "draw zombies," the guys inside panicked and scrambled to let them in.

Ethan led the group into the dorm, and the sight that greeted them was enough to make their mouths water: a table piled high with snacks—chips, cakes, bottles of Coke and Sprite. Chris and the others stared like they'd just walked into heaven.

"Someone have a birthday last night?" Ethan asked.

"Yeah, it was mine," said the curly-haired guy, grinning. "They bought a ton of stuff to celebrate."

"Well then—happy birthday!" Ethan said, already making his way to the table like he belonged there. He grabbed a snack and started eating without hesitation.

"Happy birthday!"

"Happy birthday!" Chris and the others echoed, following Ethan's lead. They crowded around the table and tore into the food like wolves.

"Th-thanks…" Curly muttered, still stunned.

"Wait, hold up—what the hell? They're eating all our stuff! What are we supposed to eat later?" the guy with glasses suddenly snapped, panic rising in his voice.

"Shit, shut up!" one of the others hissed, realizing too late what was happening. They all rushed forward to stop the feeding frenzy.

But by the time they got there, most of the food was already gone—devoured or stuffed into pockets by the starving newcomers.

"Are you guys bandits or what?!" Curly shouted, furious.

"Bandits? Come on, we're just celebrating your birthday," Ethan said, mouth full, a Coke in one hand and a bun in the other.

"My birthday's over! I don't need your celebration—give us back our food!" Curly's curls practically stood on end with rage.

The other three glared daggers at them too. These guys had no shame.

"Come on, it's already in our stomachs. You want us to puke it back up?" Ethan said with a grin. "But hey, I'm not taking your stuff for free."

He walked over to the bunk beds, grabbed the metal frames from two of them, and yanked them off like they were made of cardboard. He tossed the steel tubes to the stunned residents.

"In the apocalypse, this kind of thing's worth more than food. Might just save your life."

They caught the makeshift weapons, too shocked to speak. Ethan's strength had clearly rattled them.

Then, without missing a beat, Ethan stuffed two bags of roasted peanuts into his pockets and led his crew out the door.

"If you're not planning to fight zombies, then lock the door tight. Good luck waiting for rescue."

Only after they were gone did the guys in the dorm dare to speak.

"Goddamn bandits! They just ate through days' worth of food—how the hell are we supposed to wait for rescue now?!"

"Exactly! They've cut off our only way out!"

Out in the hallway, Ethan and the others were lounging against the wall, sipping soda and munching on cake like they were at a picnic.

"Man, this hits the spot."

"Ethan, don't you think that was a little much?" Sean asked, frowning.

"Too much?" Ethan raised an eyebrow. "You really think rescue's coming?"

"Well…"

"Even if it is, it won't be for at least ten days, maybe more. You think they've got enough food to last that long?"

"No."

"Exactly. We took their food, sure—but I gave them weapons. And in this world, weapons are worth more than snacks. They've got a better shot now."

"Yeah… you're right," Sean nodded, clearly convinced.

After that, they cleared out the zombies in the next two dorms and headed deeper into the building.

It took them over half an hour to sweep through the ten dorm rooms on the right side. They cleared out the zombies, rummaged through every drawer and closet, and managed to scavenge a modest haul—some snacks, bottled water, a few clean changes of clothes, and basic toiletries.

Each of them slung a backpack over their shoulders, stuffing it with whatever they could carry.

The backpacks, of course, were looted too.

Not a single survivor in those ten rooms. That said a lot about their odds.

There were nearly fifty people living on the seventh floor. In the end, only the four guys from Room 708 and the three from Sean's group were still breathing. The rest had either turned or been torn apart.

Less than a ten percent survival rate. The number sat heavy on everyone's chest.

Then again, dorms were densely packed. Other parts of campus might've fared better.

By the time they finished clearing the floor, the sun was already dipping low. They decided to hole up for the night in one of the intact rooms and figure out their next move in the morning.

For now, they had enough food and water to get by. Hunger wasn't an immediate concern.

They picked two dorms with unbroken doors. Sean's group took one; Ethan and Chris took the other.

After a quick tidy-up, Ethan and Chris collapsed onto the beds. The day had wrung them out, body and soul.

Ethan pulled out a charging cable he'd scavenged and plugged in his phone. Then he lay back, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"Ethan," Chris said quietly, "do you think we'll actually survive this apocalypse?"

"We will," Ethan said, firm and sure.

Chris nodded, though his eyes were clouded with doubt.

He used to think the end of the world would be thrilling—like in the movies. But now that he was living it, he knew better. The constant, gnawing fear of death was nothing like the silver screen.

"Don't overthink it," Ethan said. "Just focus on the next step. Speaking of which, you're coming with me to the sixth floor in a bit."

Chris blinked. "Why? We're safe here, aren't we?"

"When we were clearing out the zombies earlier, I activated my ability and scanned the sixth floor. Caught a glimpse of something in the hallway—a mutated zombie."

Chris sat up straighter. "A mutated one? Like the kind that almost wiped out our whole group?"

"Exactly."

"Isn't that insanely dangerous? Why would we go near it?"

Ethan turned his head toward him. "You ever wonder why my strength suddenly shot through the roof?"

Chris's eyes widened. "Wait… you mean it was that crystal?"

Ethan nodded. "Yeah. After I absorbed it, my physical abilities got a massive boost."

Chris let out a low whistle. "So those crystals… they might be the key to surviving all this."

"Exactly. And we need to get our hands on more of them before anyone else figures it out."

"You think those crystals only come from mutated zombies?" Chris asked.

"Seems like it. We've killed plenty of regular ones and only found a crystal once. That tells me mutated zombies are rare—and when you find one, you don't let it go."

Chris nodded slowly. "Alright. Should we bring Sean and the others?"

Ethan shook his head. "No. We're just allies right now. As long as there's no conflict of interest, things are fine. But the second something valuable's on the line? That's when problems start. I'm not sharing this."

"Got it. So when do we head down?"

"Rest a bit, then we move. Quietly. No need to wake the others."

"Alright."

...

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.