Kevin’s eyes were cemented shut, like some asshole dumped concrete on ‘em. He’d been up ‘til 3 a.m. binging reruns, and now the sunlight smashing his face was pure hell.

  “Ugh, Mom, quit yanking the curtains,” he growled, voice clogged with sleep. “I ain’t starving here…” He flopped over, cwing for five more minutes of peace.

  Then bam—a boot smmed his ribs. Kevin yelped, pain zapping him awake like a live wire.

  “What the fuck?!” he barked, grabbing his throbbing side. “Who’s the prick kicking me? I’m gonna—”

  Another heavy boot smashed his face, cutting his rant dead.

  Hold up—wait, wasn’t I just in bed? Kevin blinked, brain spinning like a busted tire. Yesterday was Friday, Saturday was supposed to be his chill day. But now? Sunlight torched his eyes, his skin felt cooked, and some jackass’s boot was grinding his cheek into mush. What the actual fuck?

  His head was a damn mess. No way this is real. Am I still—nah, gotta be a dream. But before he could piece it together, the boot rammed down harder, snapping him back to this shit-show. His nose popped like a cheap firecracker, blood spraying everywhere. Panic smashed him like a freight train.

  “Stop! Just—quit it and let me loose!” Kevin hollered, throat choking up, voice cracking as tears stung his eyes.

  “Get your ass up, dipshit, or I’ll cave your fuckin’ face in!” the dude snarled.

  Kevin scrambled up, head spinning like a damn top, panic and confusion smashing him. His eyes snapped to the bastard towering over him—six-foot brick shithouse, built like a goddamn bulldozer, a nasty bde strapped to his fake-ass right hand.

  Holy shit—that’s Melk? No fuckin’ way. Kevin’s heart skipped hard. Am I stuck in some TV show? This real, or a jacked-up VR trip?

  Before he could blink, Melk’s fist smmed his face again.

  “What the hell, asshole? Why you pounding me?” Kevin barked, clutching his busted jaw.

  Melk smirked, leaning in so close Kevin gagged on the stench of sweat and old blood.

  “I dragged your sorry ass outta walker chow time, and you’re still flopped there like a dead fish? What’s your deal, pretty boy?”

  Kevin flinched, heart hammering like a jackhammer. Melk looked like he’d crawled outta some horror flick, and Kevin—just a couch-rat with no fight—froze solid.

  “Pathetic,” Melk growled, spitting off to the side. “Should’ve left a punk like you to rot!”

  Kevin’s blood boiled, face heating up. Who’s this creep think he is?

  Before he could twitch, Melk yanked a knife and jammed it into the tree, inches from his skull.

  Kevin let out a shaky yell. “Please—don’t fuck me up! I’ll do whatever you say!”

  The bde hung so close he felt its chill graze his cheek. He froze stiff, a shiver tearing down his spine.

  Melk’s grin stretched wide. He tapped Kevin’s cheek with a quick smack, then barked, “Grab the knife. Move your ass.”

  Shaken, Kevin tugged the knife free and shuffled after Melk, head buzzing like a busted radio, trying to piece this shit together.

  Then bam—a ft, robotic voice cut into his brain:

  “Trial participant 4444, welcome to scenario The Zombie World.

  Time synchronization is complete.

  Greetings from Omnispace. You are now designated a Worldhopper, an elite status within our framework. Would you like to access the Newcomer’s Tutorial for orientation?”

  Kevin froze solid. Wait—what the fuck? Fear smashed him, then twisted into some weird-ass buzz… excitement, maybe?

  Nah, that didn’t click. Simution or some shit? Matrix-level jank? They plug me into VR while I was crashed out? Kevin shook his head, totally zoned, shit flying at him too fast to process.

  “Uh, yeah,” he muttered, half zoned-out, like he was nodding to crap he didn’t even get.

  The robotic voice continued:

  “This is your initial trial. Your survival determines your status in this world and your continued existence. The following are your current statistics:

  Strength: 3 (5) – Affects melee combat, carrying capacity, and physical power.

  Agility: 3 (5) – Governs movement speed, evasion, and reflexes.

  Stamina: 3 (5) – Determines health, damage resistance, and endurance.

  Intelligence: 6 (5) – Influences energy reserves, elemental resistance, and cognitive ability.

  Wisdom: 5 (5) – Affects magical proficiency, spell precision, and mental resilience.

  Charisma: 2 (5) – Impacts social perception and interaction outcomes.

  (Numbers in parentheses represent the baseline for a 25-year-old Earth male.)

  Real-world abilities: None detected.

  Overall Strength Rating: D- (average for males your age is C).”

  Kevin’s jaw hit the dirt. D-? You gotta be shittin’ me. No way—I ain’t that pathetic!

  His head zipped back to st month’s gym days… okay, yeah, mostly eyeballing chicks, but he’d still broke a damn sweat, right?

  And that don’t count for jack here? Ain’t this where I snag some badass powers or a killer bde? What’s the deal?

  Still, Kevin clung to a scrap of hope. I got my looks, don’t I? Charisma’s gotta be solid.

  He flicked his eyes back to the stats. Gut punched him cold. Charisma: 2. You gotta be fuckin’ kidding. No wonder them girls dodged me like I’m cursed. Shit.

  The ft voice cut in, calm as hell: “These values reflect your current physical and mental condition. Would you like to review the trial scenario details?”

  Kevin mumbled a low curse, knowing he was a wreck and miles from better stats. He huffed out a tired breath. “Sure, whatever.”

  A flood of data smmed his head:

  “Trial Scene: The Zombie World

  Scenario Type: Free exploration

  Difficulty Level: Beginner

  Location: Atnta, Georgia, USA

  Personal Attribute Adjustment: +50%

  Adjusted Stats: Strength 4, Agility 4, Stamina 4, Intelligence 9, Wisdom 7, Charisma 3

  Pain Sensation Reduction: 80%

  Main Quest: Survive this zombie-infested deadnds for 7 days.

  Recommendation: Ensure survival by any avaible means.”

  Kevin blinked hard. This some kinda gag? Survive seven days—just that? Sounds like a damn walk. But that’s what’s freakin’ me out.

  Lost in his head, he smmed into Melk’s back.

  “Whoa, my bad! Didn’t mean to jam up your space,” Kevin yapped, tripping over his words.

  Melk spun around, eyes cutting him like a damn bde. “Shut it, or you’re toast!”

  Kevin cmped his mouth shut, breath snagging as the nightmare hit home.

  Cars jammed one side of the highway, packed tight like everybody floored it to bail. The other ne, heading into town, was dead empty—not a ride in sight. The quiet was creepy as shit—no horns, no city hum, just a hollow-ass void that screamed wrong.

  The highway was a fuckin’ scrapyard of twisted metal. Blood and meat chunks spttered everywhere—some still wet, some already rotting like hell. Melk weaved through the wrecked mess, Kevin tailing tight.

  Kevin’s pulse pounded like a drum in his ears. He’d always figured he’d keep his shit together in a crunch—hell, he’d binged every zombie flick and show, knew the pybook cold.

  But this? Ain’t no prep for this. Corpses and blood—it was a gore-fest Hollywood’d call too fucked up to shoot.

  Inside a shiny-ass SUV, a whole family sat dead. The dad flopped back, throat torn wide, face frozen in a twisted snarl. His corpse was turning, eyes bulging like a fish gone sour. In the back, the mom gripped her two kids, their tiny bodies limp and ice-cold, slumped like tossed-out dolls.

  Up top, giant crows circled like vultures, their screeches slicing the dead air. Every so often, one dove down, tearing off hunks of flesh from the stiffs. These weren’t no regur birds—bigger, slick bck feathers, creepy red eyes glowing like coals. Half-starved bastards, they’d chomp you next without blinking. Blood dripped from their beaks, cws crusted with gore.

  Melk shoved ahead, face locked tight, shoulders bunched like he was ready for shit to hit. He shot Kevin a hard gre over his shoulder and swiped his bde across his throat in warning.

  Kevin jerked a quick nod. He wasn’t some dumbass—he’d binged The Zombie World like any TV junkie worth a damn. Rule one? Shut your trap.

  They crept through the cars, stepping over corpses and blood streaks, the stench of death choking the air. A heavy gut punch hit Kevin, thoughts spinning wild.

  This all that’s left for us?

  They kept moving, crows scoping them from above, the dead sprawled silent behind. Kevin’s heart smmed like a damn jackhammer, screaming this ain’t no show. It was real—and he had to live through it.