[The Supermarket]

He exhaled sharply. No skill drop this time. Just experience.

Not enough to push him to the next level, but it was something. The important thing was keeping his momentum.

The biggest supermarket in the district was just a few turns away. He knew it well — it had everything he needed. The problem was whether others had the same idea.

The thought of running into panicked civilians wasn't ideal. People would fight over supplies, turning violent in desperation.

He had seen it before. He had been a part of it before. This time, he needed to be smarter.

He turned the last corner and slowed the car. The supermarket loomed ahead, its glass doors still intact. But the parking lot was already chaotic.

Dozens of people were running in and out, some carrying armfuls of supplies, others fighting over carts.

Leon pulled into a spot near the entrance, switching off the engine. He assessed the situation.

There were three types of people in these situations — the opportunists, the panicked, and the predators. The opportunists were the smart ones, grabbing as much as they could before things spiraled out of control.

The panicked were those who stood frozen, unable to comprehend the reality of the situation. And the predators... they were the worst.

The ones who took advantage of the chaos, who would kill for a bag of rice or a bottle of water.

Leon wasn't going to waste time. He adjusted his backpack, gripping the knife at his side.

Guns were still locked away in police stations and military depots — most civilians wouldn't have them yet. But that would change soon.

For now, knives, bats, and brute strength ruled the apocalypse.

He pushed open the car door and stepped out.

The air was thick with tension, the scent of fear lingering like a tangible force.

People shoved past each other, shouting, cursing, some even crying. He walked toward the entrance with purpose.

Nobody paid him much attention — just another scavenger trying to survive.

Inside, the supermarket was worse. Shelves had already been emptied in some sections. Aisles were littered with discarded items, wrappers, and broken products.

People were scrambling for anything they could grab. Leon moved with efficiency, heading straight for the essentials.

He needed non-perishable food, medical supplies, water, and anything that could be used for self-defense.

His hands moved quickly, filling his backpack with cans of food, protein bars, bottled water. A commotion at the far end of the store made him glance up.

A group of men had formed near the pharmacy section. They weren't grabbing supplies — they were guarding them.

They were the 'Predators'.

Leon kept his head down, moving to another aisle. Avoiding unnecessary fights was the best strategy. He wasn't weak, but there was no reason to engage unless he had to. He had learned that lesson the hard way.

A scream cut through the air. His head snapped toward the entrance. A woman had fallen, her supplies spilling across the floor. A man yanked her by the arm, snarling something Leon couldn't hear.

She struggled, her eyes wide with terror. The world had already changed. Humanity was losing itself, piece by piece.

Leon clenched his jaw. He couldn't save everyone.

He knew that. But... he also knew that if he let this kind of behavior slide, it would only get worse. He took a breath and stepped forward.

"Hey." His voice was sharp, cutting through the chaos.

The man turned, eyes narrowing at Leon. "Back off."

The man sneered, tightening his grip on the woman's arm. "And who the hell are you?"

Leon didn't respond. He moved. A sharp flick of his wrist sent his knife slashing across the man's hand. Blood splattered.

The man howled, stumbling back. The woman took the chance to scramble away, gathering her supplies with shaking hands.

The man clutched his wounded hand, eyes filled with rage. "You bastard — "

Leon's foot slammed into his stomach before he could finish. The man crashed to the floor, gasping for breath.

Leon crouched down, voice low. "I just saved your life." His gaze flickered toward the entrance. "Zombies are slow now. But soon, they won't be. Waste time fighting each other, and you'll be the first to die."

The man paled. He understood.

The weak always understood when faced with real power. Leon straightened, turned on his heel, and walked away.

He finished gathering his supplies and made his way back to the entrance. The woman was gone.

The supermarket was no longer safe. The longer he stayed, the higher the chance of an encounter he didn't want. He stepped outside, the sun already starting to dip. Nighttime would be worse.

He needed to find a secure place before then.

However, before Leon could even think about completely loading his newly acquired supplies into the car, a series of piercing screams erupted from the depths of the supermarket.

His grip on the bags tightened instinctively.

He didn't need to see it to know what had happened. Someone had lost hope. And when someone lost hope in this new world, they became a zombie.

He didn't wait to confirm it.

Leon climbed into the driver's seat, shoved the key into the ignition, and twisted it hard. The engine roared to life.

Without hesitation, he slammed his foot onto the gas pedal, and the car lurched forward, tires screeching against the pavement as he tore out of the parking lot.

Facing a lot of zombies in hand-to-hand combat, especially when unprepared, was as good as suicide.

And though every human had now unlocked their class, those abilities wouldn't activate until twenty-four hours had passed.

Until then, survival relied on wits, caution, and pure determination.

Leon's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror.

The supermarket's entrance was a mess of chaos — people scrambling, some tripping over themselves to get away from the infected, while others simply froze, paralyzed by fear.

That hesitation was a death sentence.

But he had no time for them. His survival was his priority.

He shifted gears and turned onto the main road, dodging abandoned vehicles and the occasional wandering zombie.

The world was still adjusting to the horror that had been thrust upon it, but he had already come to terms with it.