The salty, fishy sea breeze blew in through this tiny, ruined window less than thirty centimeters wide. Wu Shuang had lived near the sea before and was familiar with this smell.
Furthermore, the stench was unnaturally thick, as if a vast number of dead, rotting fish were floating on the sea.
He had no idea why the previous owner of the house had hung a piece of cloth here instead of installing a proper window, tying down its four corners tightly with strips of cloth. After so much time, the knots had long since become impossible to untie...
“Didn't want to be seen? Hiding from something?”
Wu Shuang frowned, remaining cautious deep down.
But he urgently needed to figure out his situation and couldn't just pace around the room forever. So he picked up the hatchet, intending to use its rusty edge to cut the cloth strips while preserving the tattered cloth...
Suddenly, the light behind the cloth dimmed, as if blocked by something.
By the time Wu Shuang realized something was wrong, a severely rotted hand had already punched through the window cloth, grabbing his shirt and pulling him outward.
Having never experienced anything like this, Wu Shuang was scared nearly out of his wits. Trembling uncontrollably, he resisted with all his might, swinging the hatchet with everything he had. With a crack, the hand was smashed broken, yellow-white fractured bones protruding out, though flesh and skin still held it together. The gripping strength didn't weaken in the slightest, refusing to let go even in death.
A head with grayish-white, similarly decayed skin pushed through the cloth and lunged to bite Wu Shuang.
But because the window was small, it couldn't squeeze through. Wu Shuang was also leaning backward, so the bite missed. The fractured hand was stretched several centimeters longer from Wu Shuang pulling back, nearly torn off, but it remained attached to his clothes.
At their closest, the distance between them was less than ten centimeters.
The rotten stench spewing from the creature's mouth was practically comparable to a chemical weapon, bringing tears to Wu Shuang's eyes as nauseating saliva sprayed onto his face.
After a brief moment of shock, Wu Shuang felt a sudden surge of adrenaline. He raised the hatchet and slammed it into the monster's head, knocking its head aside, but it didn't push the creature back, and it lunged forward once more.
Wu Shuang then aimed at the monster's severed hand and struck another blow, cutting through the deformed flesh. Shrinking back a few dozen centimeters, he finally escaped danger and scrambled to his feet.
Yet the monster was still trying to squeeze inside, its expression indescribably insane as its severed hand reached toward Wu Shuang.
Wu Shuang's face darkened. Raising the hatchet high with both hands, he slammed it down onto the creature's crown.
Once, twice, thrice...
Not until he felt the sensation of bone shattering did the monster's body finally go completely limp. Its cervical spine dropped as if snapped, and thick, purplish-red foul liquid oozed out of its skull like a burst sewer line.
But at this moment, Wu Shuang didn't care about the stench. He panted uncontrollably, then dry-heaved, a dull ache coming from his arms as if he had pulled a muscle. It took a full minute or two for him to catch his breath.
This time, he threw up nothing but gastric acid, having already vomited earlier, leaving his stomach completely empty.
Wiping the remaining acid from the corners of his mouth, he looked at the severed hand still clutching his clothes. After trying to pry it off with the hatchet several times to no avail, he simply took off his coat and checked his abdomen.
It was slightly red where the claws had grazed his skin without getting a solid grip, but the skin wasn't broken—hardly an injury.
Only then did he let out a long sigh of relief, feeling like he had just cheated death. He turned his attention back to the monster stuck in the window.
Is this a zombie?
No matter how you look at it, it's a zombie!
Did a biohazard break out in this village?
Remembering the Appraisal Spell, he cast it on the corpse, then retrieved the 《Hero Handbook》 to check.
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【Villager: Paul Kochal】
【Description: A villager of Gulf Town, a somewhat well-known craftsman. Possesses excellent jumping ability, but has recently seemed rather sensitive, dislikes loud noises, and is prone to conflicts with neighbors. Please excuse his rudeness.
Hero Insight ⑦: Items from villagers can sometimes be of significant help. How to obtain them requires some clever thinking, but an excellent Hero can always find a way.】
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“This is a villager? This fucking thing isn't even human!”
Wu Shuang was almost driven to laughter by the appraisal result. Is there really nothing wrong with this Appraisal Spell?
He stood up straight and waited a few seconds to make sure no other strange creatures were crouching outside the window before approaching again.
This “villager” had probably been drawn here by his voice. His loud shouts earlier had likely alerted it. Thank goodness he had a hatchet in hand, and the small window had wedged the creature in place; otherwise, it would have been fatal—this thing's strength was far greater than his.
Wu Shuang used the hatchet to tear away the rest of the ruined cloth. Not daring to get too close, he maintained some distance and finally got a clear look at the outside situation.
It was a ruined town shrouded in white mist. Judging by the architecture, it seemed medieval, with buildings constructed from a mix of stone bricks and wood, many of which had collapsed.
The room he was in was likely the attic of a building, quite high up—four or five stories high, with a courtyard. For this zombie to actually appear outside the window...
“Fuck (ultra-quietly)!”
Wu Shuang blurted out another piece of classic profanity, but his voice was so low only he could hear it, having been startled yet again.
Because this villager wasn't a zombie at all, but an insectoid—or rather, an aberration.
Its original lower limbs were shriveled, hanging from its waist like two strips of cured meat. But behind its tailbone, a swollen insect-like abdomen and thick, reverse-jointed insect legs had grown out, covered in sharp barbs.
Wu Shuang had only ever seen legs like these on locusts, which hurt quite a bit when kicking people, but here they were magnified dozens of times. No wonder it could jump onto the eaves and breach this building... It could even fly, as it had wings, though they were very short, as if underdeveloped.
If this is a villager... then what is he, Wu Shuang? Feed for the villagers called Heroes?
Remembering the over 42 billion isekai Hero predecessors, he swallowed hard.
What the system said about the kingdom's subjects cheering for them and morale soaring should be changed to the cafeteria opening and appetite soaring instead!
Damn it!
Wu Shuang's expression turned extremely dark as he realized he had transmigrated to a terrible alternate world.
But what could he do? The system wouldn't send him, this piece of livestock, back. He still had to focus on the present, first inventorying and confirming his current supplies and equipment, and finding a way to survive.
Fuck being a Hero! Whoever wants to do it can do it, he sure as hell doesn't!
Wu Shuang tore off pieces of the tattered cloth, looked at the corpse, remembered the Hero Insight, wrapped both hands, and began searching the insectoid corpse.
Rate on N.U.
