"AAARGGHH—!"
Nathan's scream tore through the quiete evening as pain detonated across his nerves.
The Jumper's jaws clamped down on his right arm, teeth grinding through flesh with the enthusiasm of a dog attacking a chewing toy it absolutely should not have been given.
Hot pain surged straight into his brain.
Dammit! Dammit!! DAMMIT!!! It freaking hurts—!
The monster's weight pinned him to the wooden platform, its elongated legs braced like springs, locking him in place. Up close, the creature smelled even worse than the walkers — rotten meat mixed with damp soil and something metallic.
Nathan thrashed violently, twisting his torso, kicking, bucking, doing everything that short of inventing a new type martial art on the spot.
But it didn't budge.
The Jumper was strong. Far stronger than him.
Its growl vibrated through his arm as it chewed deeper.
"Ugh…! GET— OFF ME—!"
He slammed his shoulder sideways, but the zombie barely shifted.
Panic surged.
Think. THINK!
His left hand flailed blindly across the wooden floor, fingers scraping splinters as he searched for the gun he had dropped moments earlier.
The Jumper snarled, tightening the bite and its grip on Nathan's arm.
White-hot agony flashed behind Nathan's eyes.
His fingers brushed metal.
C'mon! C'mon! C'mon—!
He grabbed it desperately, nearly fumbling the grip from sweat and inexperience. Without hesitation, he shoved the barrel upward toward the monster's head — barely aiming, acting purely on survival instinct.
He pulled the trigger.
*BANG!*
The shot exploded at point-blank range, striking the side of the Jumper's grotesque face.
Blood and fragments splattered across Nathan's cheek as a notification flashed.
[Critical Hit!]
His earmuff had slipped from the earlier impact, the gunfire sound was painfully deafening at that range — he'd fired mere inches from his ear. But that was the least of his worries.
The Jumper jerked violently, its head snapping sideways as gore sprayed across the wooden surface.
Nathan barely registered the smell — he didn't have the time for it.
The zombie released Nathan's arm involuntarily, stunned — but not dead.
He looked at the monster's status for a heartbeat.
[Jumper — HP: 68%]
Are you fucking kidding me?!
Only thirty-two percent?!
Even with Hunter's Mark's 10% damage buff — even with a headshot — it barely crossed halfway.
"Nope! Nope nope nope!"
He reacted instantly.
Using every ounce of strength he had left, Nathan kicked the monster square in its midsection and rolled sideways, scrambling free.
The moment space opened, he bolted.
His pistol was empty — saved only by the chambered round he'd just fired.
Now it was nothing but useless metal.
Ahead of him, the dropped magazine lay roughly three meters (10 ft) away — three meters that would decide his fate.
His lifeline.
Behind him came a sharp, high-pitched growl. The Jumper was recovering.
Nathan didn't dare looking back.
Reload first! Panic later!
He dove forward, snatching the magazine just as claws scraped wood behind him.
His hands shook violently as he slammed it back into the handgun.
*Click.*
He racked the slide.
*Kr-chak!*
A round chambered.
He spun, raising his gun—
—and almost frozen in place.
The Jumper's hand was already reaching toward him, mere inches away.
Way too close.
But thanks to the recent level-up, his mana had fully recovered — minus one from the most recent Hunter's Mark usage.
And that was enough.
Nathan's eyes sharpened.
"HUNTER'S HIGH!"
The world slowed instantly.
Sound stretched into deep echoes. Sparks from the campfire drifted like embers suspended in thick syrup. The Jumper's motion became sluggish, its claws crawling toward him through thickened time.
Nathan didn't waste a moment.
Okay… focus.
Even his movement was slightly delayed, his thoughts were perfectly clear.
He raised his handgun.
Aligned the sights, centered on the monster's face.
Then pulled the trigger.
*BANG!*
The recoil felt more controlled — almost gentle under the slowed time.
[Critical Hit!]
The Jumper's head snapped backward.
Nathan watched the slide cycle in near slow motion, a brass casing spinning lazily through the air as the next round chambered.
He fired again.
*BANG!*
[Critical Hit!]
Blood droplets floated like red beads suspended in space.
[Jumper — HP: 4%]
The HP bar flickered dangerously low.
Adrenaline surged high.
"DIEEE!!!"
He squeezed the trigger one final time.
*BANG!!*
[Critical Hit!]
Time snapped back to normal.
Shell casings clattered across wood. Sound rushed in all at once — crackling fire, distant groans, his ragged breathing.
The Jumper staggered backward before collapsing off balance, limbs twitching once… twice…
Then stillness.
Notifications appeared.
[You have slain a Jumper — E-Rank]
[EXP +10]
[Hunter's Gallery Kill Count — Jumper: 0/1 → 1/1]
[Jumper kill quota fulfilled — Dexterity: 2.0 → 2.2]
Nathan stood frozen for several seconds, gun still raised.
Then his knees buckled, nearly gave out.
"…Haaah… haaah…"
Blood — mostly zombie's blood — coated his face and clothes. His right arm throbbed violently, alternating between burning pain and unsettling numbness.
His lungs struggled for air as reality settled in.
"Okay, just think of this as another goddamn reality check…" he muttered weakly. "Please tell me I'm not turning into one of them like in every zombie movie ever."
Silence answered.
Nathan immediately opened the shop interface.
"A bottle of water… buy."
A bottle containing a litter of water materialized in his left hand.
It costs one SC.
The water from the starter pack were long gone; he had to purchase a fresh one.
Opening it one-handed proved awkward thanks to his injured dominant arm, but after a short wrestling match with physics, the cap twisted free.
He drank deeply, finishing half in one go.
Cool water steadied his breathing and calmed his nerves.
"…Okay. I'm still human… probably."
He set the bottle down and reopened the shop again, buying a bandage roll, small medicinal alcohol, and a knife for two, three, and ten SC respectively.
Nathan poured the remaining water over his bleeding wound, then continue with the alcohol to disinfect it — his teeth gritting as agony surged anew.
"Ow—ow—OW! Man… this was a bad idea, but necessaryeee—!" He hissed. "Thanks for the convenience, system shop."
Diluted blood ran across the planks.
He wrapped the bandage tightly around his arm — clumsy, but determined — then used the knife to cut the cloth before tucking the end securely beneath the wrap.
He flexed experimentally — Immediate regret followed.
"I think that's enough for now… ouch. Ouch… it so damn hurts."
He glanced at the corpse sprawled across the wall platform.
"…Yeah, that's definitely a tripping hazard."
Using his feet, Nathan shoved the Jumper's body inch by inch until it tipped over the edge.
*THUD.*
It landed directly on a clueless Walker below.
Nathan nodded approvingly.
"Environmental damage, buddy."
Since he was at it, he did the same with the corpse of the first zombie he'd killed.
Nathan wiped sweat from his forehead.
"Let's pray none of that fucker ever show up again…" He paused, remembering the fight. "Four headshots. FOUR! Give me a goddamn break!"
His right arm dangled uselessly at his side. Now that adrenaline was long gone, even slight movement sent sharp pain shooting upward.
Great. My aiming arm is basically broken-ish. What a fantastic timing.
Feeling exhausted, he sat down and opened his status window.
—————————————
Name: Nathan Nightshade
Class: Hunter
Level: 1 — EXP: 11/100
Condition: Mildly Exhausted | Wounded
HP: 9/15 | Stamina: 7/15 | Mana: 1/12
———
Vitality: 1.5
Strength: 1.3
Agility: 1.4
Magic: 1.2
Dexterity: 2.2
———
SP: 2
—————————————
Nathan exhaled slowly.
"I only have one mana left… one more use of Hunter's Mark."
He looked up at the sky, now completely dark.
"From my earlier observation… looks like I recover one mana every ten minutes. So about two hours to full."
He grimaced.
"Or I level up again… but one hundred EXP?" He laughed dryly. "Yeah. Not happening anytime soon."
Walkers gave one EXP.
Jumpers gave ten.
"So either eighty-nine more Walkers… or nine more Jumpers." He paused. "…Let's maybe not pick option two — even option one sounds outrageous."
Time passed quietly.
For almost an hour, nothing happened, fortunately. Walkers shuffled outside the walls, scratching uselessly at the walls while Nathan rested and conserved energy. At one time, he went down and add more woods into his campfire.
His mana and stamina slowly returned.
His HP?
Not so much — if it's recovering at all.
The night deepened.
Then—
A familiar sound sliced through the calm.
A sharp, ominous, high-pitched growl that recently had been carved permanently into his brain echoed.
Nathan's eyes snapped open.
"…Alright," he sighed, pulling his earmuffs back into place.
He stood slowly, gripping his fully loaded handgun with his left hand while gripping a flashlight in reverse grip for illumination and handling support with his other hand.
A tired smile formed despite everything.
"Here we go again…"