Chapter 6: High time

Chapter 6: High time

As Korig's eyes remained fixed on the chaotic scene unfolding around him, his heart was gripped by a myriad of emotions.

Fear clenched like a vice around his chest, its icy tendrils sending shivers down his spine.

Confusion gnawed at his thoughts, questions swirling like a tempest within his mind.

And beneath it all lay a profound sense of loss, a raw ache that resonated in the wake of witnessing his friend Daniel's brutal and sudden death.

The countdown on the screen before him was a constant reminder of the relentless march of time.

The seconds ticked away, each passing moment etching deeper lines of anxiety and apprehension across Korig's face.

The numbers were a stark reminder of the objective thrust upon him, to survive the zombie apocalypse for an hour.

But it was a task that seemed impossible, a monumental challenge that loomed like an insurmountable mountain.

He wiped a hand across his blood spattered dress, the crimson stains an indelible mark of the horrors he had witnessed.

Daniel's fate replayed in his mind, a haunting loop that he couldn't escape.

The image of his friend's body torn apart, his life snuffed out in an instant, was seared into Korig's memory, a visual scar that mirrored the emotional wounds that festered within.

Amidst the chaos, Korig clung to a desperate hope, that this nightmare, this nightmarish reality, was nothing more than a horrific dream, a fabrication of his mind that he could awaken from at any moment.

He wished for the normalcy of his previous life, the mundane worries that once occupied his thoughts, the simple joys he had taken for granted.

As he grappled with these conflicting emotions, the mess in the huge parking lot bore witness to the brutality of the situation.

The ground was stained with blood, littered with the remnants of lives once lived.

The echoes of screams and cries lingered in the air, a haunting refrain of the horrors that had unfolded in this once bustling space.

At the far end of the parking lot, the Lich stood like a malevolent sentinel, a harbinger of doom.

Its presence was formidable, a towering figure that commanded the horde of zombies with an otherworldly aura.

The air seemed to thicken with its influence, the very atmosphere charged with an unnatural energy.

With a wave of its wand, the Lich issued its commands, its hollow eyes glinting with a sinister intent.

The zombie horde responded, a tide of undead that surged forward, their insatiable hunger driving them to obey their master's bidding.

The army of zombies grew with every passing second, their numbers multiplying as they descended upon the survivors like a relentless plague.

Korig's heart sank as he watched the survivors become engulfed in the onslaught, their desperate attempts to fight back met with the overwhelming force of the horde.

Panic and chaos reigned, the parking lot transformed into a battlefield where humanity fought for its survival against the tide of darkness.

As Korig took cover behind the pillar, his mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions churning within him.

The system's objective, the countdown clock, the Lich's presence, it was all a surreal and twisted reality that he couldn't escape.

His friends were lost amidst the chaos, the connection that had bound them now frayed by the onslaught.

The minutes ticked away, each second an agonizing reminder of the time he had left to navigate this nightmare.

With a deep breath, he steeled himself.

The crowbar in his hand became an extension of his will, a tool that could shape his destiny.

The main objective was clear.

Survive.

But to what end? To escape the mall? To find answers? To uncover the truth behind this twisted reality?

Korig's decision was made.

He had read enough webnovels to know that hesitation could lead to downfall.

And so, he stepped out from behind the pillar, his eyes locked onto the Lich, his body coiled in anticipation.

He wasn't just a writer anymore; he was a warrior, a fighter, a protagonist who refused to be defeated.

With a battle cry that echoed through the chaos, Korig charged forward, his trained muscles propelling him into action.

The zombies around him reacted, their groans and moans a discordant symphony of doom.

But he was undeterred, his every move calculated, his every strike purposeful.

The Lich's gaze shifted toward him, its hollow eyes narrowing in response.

Korig's heart raced, his breath came in short bursts, but his resolve held steady.

He knew that this was his moment, his chance to take control of his own story, to shape his destiny in a world that had become a reflection of the webnovels he had loved.

And so, the battle began, a clash of wills, a dance of survival, a struggle against the odds.

The chaos of the parking lot became the backdrop for Korig's transformation from a writer to the protagonist, from an observer to an active participant.

As his blows landed, as he weaved through the horde, he felt a sense of empowerment, a rush of adrenaline that fueled his every move.

The minutes ticked away, each passing moment a testament to his determination.

He fought not just for his own survival, but for the memory of his friend Daniel, for the hope that his actions could alter the course of this nightmare.

The zombies fell before him, their numbers diminishing as his strength and resolve grew.

As the battle raged on, Korig couldn't help but think back to his initial question: "What the fuck is going on?"

The answer had become clear.

He was in a world that mirrored the stories he had loved, a world where survival depended on action, where challenges were meant to be overcome, and where the strength of his will could shape his fate.

And as he continued to fight, his breath mingling with the chaos, Korig embraced his role as protagonist, his destiny as a survivor in this webnovel turned reality.

The countdown continued, the seconds slipping away, but he pressed on, his heart set on overcoming every obstacle, on rewriting the story of his survival, one blow at a time.

He had to survive, he had to adapt, and he was, his crowbar proof enough of his resolve.

"I'm not giving up!"

Thwack

...