Lord Of Ashes

John was frustrated as he eyed his machete. "It seems like testing my regeneration ability will have to wait," he muttered. He had tried cutting his index finger to measure how quickly he could heal, but no matter how much strength he put behind the machete, it couldn't penetrate his defenses. His aura was proving impenetrable to both zombies and even his own weapons.

"Maybe it's not surprising," he thought. "If zombies can't bite through a few layers of thick clothing, my defenses are probably far stronger than any flimsy outfit or cardboard shield." Still, he was slightly annoyed. He'd hoped to get a practical measure of his healing ability—maybe next time, with a sharper tool.

As he studied the restrained zombie in front of him, John noticed something unusual. "Is this zombie... kind of pretty? And it's a female zombie too."

Before his thoughts could spiral further, John shook his head. It wasn't attraction—he wasn't that kind of person, and besides, the zombie was incapable of harming him, let alone transmitting the T-virus due to his immunity. Still, there was something unsettlingly familiar about its face.

"That's it," he realized. The zombie resembled Jill Valentine, a character from a Resident Evil game he'd played years ago. Specifically, it reminded him of the version of Jill from the remake of Resident Evil 3. The resemblance was uncanny, although instead of Jill's iconic blue outfit, this zombie wore a standard black police uniform, fully covering its decaying body.

"Must be my imagination," he reasoned. The zombie's appearance was likely triggering old memories from his gaming days. Still, the realization was enough to distract him for a moment.

"Enough of this nonsense," John muttered, regaining focus. He raised his machete and delivered a decisive blow to the zombie's neck. With a sickening squelch, the blade severed the head cleanly, and it rolled to the side. The body collapsed in a heap, a pool of dark red, rotting blood seeping onto the floor.

A system prompt confirmed the kill:

[Successfully killed Level 1 sporadic monster 'Police Zombie (Common)' ×1. Soul Points: +1.]

"Are you kidding me?" John groaned. "One soul point for all that effort? A goblin merchant gives thirty soul points, but this zombie only gives one? What a rip-off!"

He had expected the soul point value to be higher, reasoning that a sporadic Level 1 monster might be worth at least five points. The disparity was frustrating, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

As he continued grumbling, John noticed something unusual near the zombie's corpse. A small object shimmered faintly, floating just above the remains. Curious, he bent down and retrieved it, revealing a tiny metal treasure chest about the size of his fist.

"Well, well," he said with a grin. "So killing monsters drops treasure chests too, huh?"

This wasn't entirely unexpected; earlier, he had found a similar chest after defeating another creature. He decided to save this one for later and focused on looting the rest of the room. According to the system, the zombie had been equipped with a Beretta 92F pistol, which he soon discovered hanging from the creature's belt, along with two spare magazines loaded with fifteen rounds each.

After securing the firearm, John conducted a thorough search of the apartment. He checked the wardrobe, hoping to find more weapons or supplies, but all he found was a pile of old, dusty clothes. Moving on to the kitchen, he searched for food and water but came up empty-handed. While he wasn't desperate for supplies, he knew it was wise to stock up whenever possible.

Satisfied that there was nothing else of value, John returned to his own apartment in 301 to open the treasure chest. On the way back, he briefly considered clearing out the rest of the zombies on the floor but decided the treasure chest took priority. After all, there was no telling what might be inside, and he wanted to check before taking on more enemies.

Once safely back in his room, John locked the door and sat on his worn, creaky wooden bed. He had grown oddly attached to the dilapidated furniture. At first, its instability had been unsettling, but over time, he'd gotten used to its quirks. Now, it felt like a familiar companion in this post-apocalyptic world.

He took the small metal chest from his bag and held it in his hands. "Soul points better be an option in here," he muttered. "A few more of those would make all this effort worthwhile." Despite knowing it was unlikely, he couldn't help but hope for something valuable. After all, greed was a natural human tendency.

The system prompted him to open the chest:

[Would you like to open the 'Falling Treasure Chest (Police Zombie)'?]

"Yes," John confirmed. As the words left his mouth, time seemed to freeze momentarily, a familiar sensation that accompanied these interactions.

[Please select the contents of the 'Falling Treasure Chest (Police Zombie)':]

[Option 1: 1 Soul Point]

 [Option 2: 5 Soul Points]

 [Option 3: 10 Soul Points]

"Seriously," John muttered, eyeing the third option. "Ten soul points. Whatever, it's a decent start."

He clicked on the next item to reveal more choices:

[Item 2]

 [Option 1: Raccoon City Police Department Standard Tactical Top, Quality: White]

 [Option 2: Bulletproof and Stab-Resistant Tactical Uniform, Quality: White]

 [Option 3: Standard Tactical Combat Boots, Quality: White]

"The names are ridiculously long," John grumbled. "Why can't they just call it a 'jacket' or 'boots'? But hey, I'll finally have some shoes!"

The idea of wearing actual footwear was a relief. When he'd kicked down the door to Apartment 302 earlier, he'd been worried about stubbing his toes. With proper boots, he wouldn't have to worry about such minor but painful accidents again.

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Read up to chap 20 at [email protected]/Onesword