Chapter 5: Survival of the Cunning

The air was thick with the pungent smell of decay, the acrid tang of blood, and the distant, mournful moans of zombies. The group trudged through the streets, their eyes darting warily at every shadow, every creak of movement. Kale walked at the front, his senses sharp and his mind racing with plans.

"Stick together," Iris said nervously, her voice just above a whisper. "We don't know what's lurking out there."

Kale smirked but kept his gaze fixed ahead. Always the voice of reason, huh, Iris? he thought. But deep down, he agreed. The city had turned into a feeding ground, and one wrong move could cost them everything.

As they turned a corner, a loud Crash! echoed from nearby.

"Shit!" John yelped, gripping a baseball bat tightly. His wide eyes darted toward Kale, who, as usual, seemed completely unfazed.

"Relax," Kale said smoothly, his voice laced with authority. "Panicking will only get you killed."

John gulped, nodding quickly, but it was clear the man was barely holding himself together.

Suddenly, a zombie stumbled out from behind an overturned car, its grotesque face twisted into a permanent grimace. Its milky-white eyes locked onto the group, and it let out an ear-piercing screech.

Before anyone could react, Kale stepped forward, raising his weapon with precision.

Thwack!

The sound of his machete splitting the zombie's skull echoed in the silent street. Kale yanked the blade free, shaking off the gore with practiced ease.

"See? Simple," he said, his lips curling into a small smirk.

"Simple for you," Iris muttered, clutching her sword tightly. "Not all of us are zombie-slaying machines."

Kale raised an eyebrow, amused. "Then stay behind me. I'll do the dirty work."

Iris rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the faint blush that crept up her cheeks.

Asher, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke up. "We can't keep wandering like this. We need to find shelter and regroup." His tone was firm, but Kale could sense the underlying tension.

"Shelter?" Kale echoed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And how long do you think we'll last, huddled in some corner? A few hours? Maybe a day?"

Asher's jaw tightened. "It's better than walking around in the open, waiting to get ambushed!"

Before the argument could escalate, Iris stepped between them. "Enough, both of you! We don't have time for this."

Kale chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Fine. Let's find your shelter."

After an hour of searching, the group stumbled upon a convenience store. The metal shutters were half-closed, but the interior seemed intact.

"This'll do for now," Iris said, her tone relieved.

"Let's clear it first," Kale said, stepping forward.

The group moved cautiously inside, their weapons at the ready. The dim light cast eerie shadows across the shelves, and the silence was oppressive.

Clink.

A bottle rolled across the floor, the sound echoing in the quiet.

"Careful," Kale whispered, his grip tightening on his machete.

From the back of the store, a zombie lunged out, its movements frantic and desperate.

"Watch out!" Iris screamed.

But Kale was faster. He sidestepped the attack and drove his blade into the creature's chest with a sickening Crunch!.

"Done," he said coldly, kicking the corpse aside.

The others quickly secured the area, blocking the entrances with whatever they could find.

"This should hold for now," Asher said, though his tone lacked confidence.

"Great," Kale said, leaning casually against a counter. "Now what?"

Iris glared at him. "We need to plan. Figure out our next move."

"Planning won't help if you don't have resources," Kale countered. "Food, water, weapons—that's what matters. Without them, your 'plans' are useless."

Asher bristled. "You think we don't know that? We're not stupid."

"Could've fooled me," Kale muttered under his breath.

As they rummaged through the store, Kale's mind wandered to the notifications he'd received earlier.

Ding!

Host has stolen the protagonist's opportunity. Luck has been adjusted. Villain Points gained: 50.

The memory brought a wicked grin to his face. The system was practically begging him to mess with Asher's fate.

"Kale," Iris's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. She was holding a pack of bottled water. "Help me with this."

He walked over, taking the pack from her hands. "You're welcome," he said with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."

Asher watched the interaction from a distance, his expression darkening. Kale didn't miss the way the protagonist's fists clenched at his sides.

Perfect, Kale thought, hiding his grin. The more Asher resented him, the easier it would be to dismantle his luck.

As night fell, the group gathered around a small battery-powered lantern. The atmosphere was tense, and exhaustion was evident on everyone's faces.

"We need to stick together," Iris said, breaking the silence. "If we start turning on each other, we won't survive."

"Wise words," Kale said, his tone mocking. "But let's be real—survival is about more than teamwork."

"And what would you know about survival?" Asher shot back, his patience clearly wearing thin.

Kale's eyes gleamed dangerously. "More than you, apparently."

"Guys, stop," Iris said, her voice firm. "This isn't helping."

Kale leaned back, his smirk never wavering. "Fine. I'll play nice."

But as the group settled in for the night, Kale's thoughts were far from peaceful. His eyes lingered on Asher, his mind already calculating his next move.

Every step you take, every chance you get... I'll be there to snatch it away.

As the others drifted off to sleep, Kale remained awake, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The world was falling apart, but for him, it was an opportunity—a chance to rewrite his story.

And this time, I'll win.