Multiverse System: Rebuilding Humanity

Noah walked over to his entertainment system, a rare luxury he had indulged in before the world went to hell. He picked up a USB drive from the counter and plugged it into the TV. The screen flickered to life, displaying a list of movies, shows, and documentaries he had painstakingly collected over the years.

Settling into the sofa, he selected one of his favorite shows—a nostalgic choice that reminded him of simpler times. The opening theme played, and for a brief moment, the chaos of the world outside faded away.

As the scenes unfolded on the screen, Noah allowed himself to relax, leaning back against the cushions. He knew this peace was temporary. The undead hordes weren't going to disappear, and the fight for survival was far from over. But for now, he could indulge in this small escape.

"now... Time for some planning! " he took out a paper which he had written long ago. It read

1. Power: He needed to become stronger—far beyond what he was now. The system's abilities were a start, but he had barely scratched the surface of what it could offer. He needed mutation energy, new skills, and perhaps the means to dominate both the living and the dead.

(like that ondrage or some shit guy awakened the necromancer)

2. Food: His stockpile was decent, but it wouldn't last forever. He needed more, especially fresh supplies. Canned goods and packaged meals would only take him so far. Finding sustainable sources of food would be crucial in the long run.

3. Companionship: Noah wasn't naive enough to think he could survive alone forever. He needed allies—or more specifically, women who could stand by his side. Not just for survival, but for something more. The thought brought a faint smirk to his lips.

As the bottom read(For humanity, You mustn't be alone... Have women my friend)

"what was i thinking when writing this" he chuckled as he placed it in the drawer beside the sofa,he paused his tv and went to his room to bath

Coming back he again sinked himself into the embrace of the sofa as he resumed the show...

As the hours passed, Noah allowed himself to relax. He ate a small meal from his stockpile, enjoying the taste of preserved food that still felt like a luxury in this broken world. He glanced at the system interface hovering nearby, checking his stats and inventory.

[Mutation Energy: 35]

He frowned slightly but dismissed it. There was no urgency tonight. For the next two days, he decided, he would stay in his apartment, resting, recharging, and preparing for what lay ahead.

...two days later

The days passed quietly. Noah used the time to organize his supplies, sharpen his weapons, and solidify his plans for the future.

On the morning of the third day, he stood at the window, looking out at the desolate city below. The streets were eerily quiet, save for the occasional movement of undead figures in the distance.

Noah's mind was made up. He couldn't survive alone forever. Companionship was not just a luxury—it was a necessity. He needed people he could trust, people who could stand by his side in this new, unforgiving world. And if they happened to be women, so much better.

With his katana strapped to his back and a fresh set of arrows in his quiver, Noah stepped out of his apartment. He locked the door behind him and activated the protective barriers once more

Noah moved carefully through the hallways of his apartment floor, katana in hand. The once-familiar space now felt foreign and eerie, every shadow a potential threat. He checked each door, knocking softly to listen for signs of life, but silence greeted him at every turn.

Fortunate or unfortunate, he found no survivors. However, he did stumble upon some food supplies—canned goods, snack packets, and even a few bottled drinks left behind in the hallways or unlocked apartments. He stuffed everything into his inventory, the items disappearing into the system's infinite storage space.

At least this food wouldn't decay. It was one less thing to worry about in a world where everything else seemed to be falling apart.

Satisfied that he had cleared his floor, Noah descended the stairs cautiously, his katana held at the ready.

As he reached the lower floors, he heard a faint scratching sound. His eyes narrowed as he approached the source—a zombie clawing at a door, its grotesque head twitching with an almost mindless persistence. The sight was unsettling, but it also told Noah something important: someone was behind that door.

Without hesitation, he rushed forward. The zombie turned at the sound of his footsteps, but it was too late. Noah's katana sliced cleanly through its head, the body collapsing to the ground with a dull thud.

Before he could breathe a sigh of relief, his senses screamed a warning. Trusting his instincts, he leapt to the side just as a wave of fire erupted from the now-open door. The heat was intense, the flames roaring through the hallway in a deadly inferno.

'Flame? Skill? '

As the smoke began to clear, Noah stepped cautiously into the room, his katana still in hand. The sight that greeted him caught him off guard.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor was an 18-year-old girl, casually scrolling through her mobile phone. She blew a bubble with her gum, letting it pop loudly before chewing it again, seemingly unfazed by the apocalyptic chaos outside.

Noah blinked in surprise. Chewing gum? In this situation? he thought, his disbelief evident.

Then his gaze shifted to the man standing protectively nearby. Recognition flickered in Noah's mind—it was John Johnson, a man he had dealt with before the apocalypse. Memories of a dispute over an apartment reresurfaced: noah had refused to sell, despite johnson repeated offers. Though there had been no love lost between them, Noah found himself pushing those grudges aside, especially as his attention shifted back to the girl.

She had dazzling red hair that framed her face in soft waves, and her red eyes shimmered faintly in the dim light of her phone's screen. The contrast of her vibrant features against the grim reality around them was striking, and Noah couldn't help but feel his interest pique.

Johnson's forced smile betrayed his unease. "Hello... Noah," he greeted cautiously, his voice uncertain but polite.

Noah tilted his head, offering a faint smirk. "Hello, Uncle Johnson…" he replied, his tone calm but laced with curiosity.

Before Noah could say more, Johnson hesitated before continuing. "Do you have any food? We could use some..."

The question was barely out of his mouth when the girl, Aria, interrupted with an abrupt shout, pointing at Noah. "Give me food, you bastard!" she snapped, her voice sharp and demanding.

Noah's expression hardened, his frown deepening as he turned his sharp gaze to her. For a moment, the room filled with tense silence.

Sensing the tension, Johnson quickly stepped in front of his daughter, raising a hand as if to shield her from Noah's response. "She's my daughter, Aria... She's a bit... rude," he said awkwardly, his tone apologetic as he glanced nervously at Noah.

Noah let out a slow breath, shaking his head as he reigned in his irritation. "I've checked everything," he said evenly. "I couldn't find any food left upstairs. How about going downstairs? Maybe we'll find something there."

Johnson's face paled slightly at the suggestion. He cast a quick glance at his daughter, then back at Noah. "There are lots of undead down there," he said, his voice tinged with uncertainty. It was clear he was hoping Noah would take the lead in handling the danger.

Noah crossed his arms, considering the situation. He glanced at Aria, who was still chewing her gum with an air of defiance, and then at Johnson, who looked both hopeful and desperate. Figures, Noah thought. 'The old man doesn't want to get his hands dirty'

...