Chapter 13: The Lone Path
The moment Ash Dante Corleone finished speaking, silence fell over the group like a heavy curtain.
"I'd like to move alone."
Those simple words carried weight—cold, sharp, and absolute.
Several people exchanged uneasy glances. Some were confused, others clearly displeased. In a situation like this, where survival depended on numbers, someone willingly choosing to leave the safety of a group sounded either incredibly brave… or completely insane.
The first to react was the bearded man with the massive hammer.
"You serious, kid?" Marcus said, frowning. "Out there isn't a game. You've seen what's roaming around."
Ash met his gaze calmly. "That's exactly why."
Marcus narrowed his eyes, but he didn't interrupt.
Ash continued, his voice steady.
"A large group attracts attention. Zombies, mutated beasts, insects… they all react to noise and presence. The bigger the group, the higher the risk."
Some of the teachers shifted uncomfortably. They couldn't deny his logic.
"But alone?" one of the male teachers said nervously. "Isn't that even more dangerous?"
Ash shook his head slightly.
"For you, yes. For me, no."
The bluntness of his words stung, but no one could argue. They had all seen what he was capable of. The cafeteria alone was proof—fifteen zombies neutralized without a single drop of blood spilled.
Even the cold, composed leader of the group studied him more seriously now.
"You're confident," she said.
Ash didn't reply immediately. Instead, he looked around at the frightened faces in the distance—the students huddled together, shivering, whispering, breaking apart mentally.
"I'm realistic," he finally answered.
Another silence followed.
Then the archer spoke.
"If you go alone… what's your goal?" he asked.
Ash replied without hesitation. "Level up. Clear threats. Gather supplies. Learn how this world works."
His eyes sharpened slightly.
"And come back stronger."
That last sentence made several people feel a strange chill.
It wasn't arrogance.
It was certainty.
The leader crossed her arms, her expression unreadable.
"You're not interested in cooperating?"
"I am," Ash said calmly. "Just not tied down."
He looked directly at her.
"If I stay, I'll be forced to slow down. Protect. Wait. Discuss. That's not efficient right now."
A few people looked offended, but again—no one could deny it.
Ash wasn't wrong.
Finally, she nodded.
"Fine. But if you're leaving, you'll still share information when you return."
Ash gave a slight nod. "Fair."
Marcus let out a rough chuckle. "Kid's got guts. Or he's crazy. Either way, I like it."
Ash ignored the comment.
"Then it's settled," the leader said. "The rest of us will form teams as planned."
Ash turned to leave, but paused.
"One more thing."
Everyone looked at him again.
"If you hear something… or feel something is wrong—don't hesitate."
His gaze swept across them.
"Run."
That single word sent a chill through the group.
Without waiting for a response, Ash walked away.
—
The moment he stepped out of the gymnasium, the cold rain hit his face like needles.
The storm hadn't weakened.
If anything, it had grown more violent.
Thunder roared across the sky, and flashes of lightning illuminated the campus in brief, terrifying glimpses—broken windows, abandoned vehicles, bloodstains, and shadows that seemed to move when you weren't looking directly at them.
Ash adjusted his coat and stepped forward.
His movements were light, controlled, and precise.
Every sense in his body was active.
The world had changed.
And so had he.
He moved through the campus silently, avoiding open spaces whenever possible. His enhanced agility made it easy to navigate obstacles—vaulting over barriers, slipping through narrow paths, and crossing distances faster than any normal human could.
A low growl suddenly echoed from the left.
Ash stopped instantly.
His body lowered slightly, his muscles tensing.
From behind a collapsed vending machine, a creature slowly emerged.
It looked like a dog… but wrong.
Its body was larger, its muscles unnaturally swollen, and its eyes glowed faintly with a savage light. Its fur was patchy, and parts of its flesh looked hardened, almost like armor.
The creature sniffed the air.
It had detected him.
Ash didn't move.
He observed.
Level… unknown.
But based on size and aura alone—stronger than the average zombie.
The creature let out another growl and began circling.
Fast.
Very fast.
Ash's eyes narrowed slightly.
Good.
Without warning, the mutated dog lunged.
Its speed was explosive, its jaws wide open, aiming directly for his throat.
But Ash had already moved.
His body shifted to the side with minimal motion—efficient, precise.
The dog's attack missed.
In that same instant, Ash's hand shot forward.
Crack.
A sharp, brutal sound echoed.
His fingers struck the creature's neck with pinpoint accuracy.
The dog stumbled, its movement disrupted for just a fraction of a second.
That was all Ash needed.
He stepped in.
His knee drove upward.
Bone shattered.
The creature collapsed mid-motion, its body hitting the ground with a heavy thud.
It twitched once… then went still.
Ash stood over it, breathing steadily.
No wasted energy.
No unnecessary movement.
Clean.
Efficient.
Different.
"Too slow," he muttered quietly.
A faint energy flowed into his body.
He felt it clearly now.
Stronger.
Sharper.
Alive.
Ash clenched his fist slightly.
This… was the path.
Not safety.
Not comfort.
Growth.
He continued forward.
—
Minutes later, Ash reached the outer edge of the male dormitory.
The building loomed in the darkness, its windows shattered, its entrance partially blocked by debris.
This was where the next objective lay.
Supplies.
Clothes.
And possibly… survivors.
Or worse.
Ash approached cautiously.
The moment he stepped inside, the smell hit him.
Rot.
Blood.
Death.
His expression didn't change.
He had already grown used to it.
The hallway was dim, lit only by occasional flickers of unstable lights. Doors were broken, some hanging off their hinges, others stained with dark marks.
A faint sound echoed from deeper inside.
Dragging.
Slow.
Irregular.
Zombies.
Multiple.
Ash moved forward silently.
As he turned the corner, he saw them.
Seven… no, nine.
Their bodies were twisted, their movements sluggish but relentless.
They hadn't noticed him yet.
Ash tilted his head slightly.
Then he moved.
Like a shadow.
Like a predator.
The first zombie didn't even react before his hand struck its jaw upward.
Snap.
Its head twisted unnaturally.
The second one turned—
Too late.
Ash stepped past it, his elbow smashing into its temple.
Bone cracked.
The third lunged.
Ash grabbed its arm, twisted, and drove it into another zombie, knocking both off balance.
His movements flowed.
No hesitation.
No wasted motion.
In less than fifteen seconds, all nine zombies were down.
Not a single drop of blood spilled.
Ash stood in the silent hallway.
His breathing remained calm.
Controlled.
This wasn't a fight anymore.
It was execution.
He looked down at his hands briefly.
Stronger.
Faster.
Better.
But not enough.
Not yet.
Ash continued deeper into the dormitory, searching room by room.
Clothes. Bags. Useful items.
He took only what mattered.
Efficiency.
At one point, he found a room with two survivors hiding inside—a trembling boy and a girl barely holding back tears.
When they saw him, their eyes widened with hope.
"Please… help us…"
Ash looked at them for a moment.
Then he spoke.
"There's a safe point at the gymnasium."
He pointed in the direction.
"Go now. Stay quiet."
The boy hesitated. "Aren't you coming with us?"
Ash shook his head.
"No."
The girl swallowed nervously. "W-what about you?"
Ash turned away.
"I'll be fine."
He didn't wait for more questions.
He left.
—
As he stepped back out into the storm, something inside him had become clearer.
The world wasn't going back.
Not to normal.
Not to safety.
This was a new era.
And in this era…
Only the strong would decide their fate.
Ash looked up at the dark sky, rain running down his face.
A faint, almost invisible change flickered in his eyes.
Something deeper.
Something ancient.
Dormant… but awakening.
"Level 25…" he murmured.
A small, dangerous smile appeared on his lips.
"Let's see what happens then."
He stepped forward into the storm.
Alone.
Unstoppable.
—
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