Chapter 44: What a Prude—How Can You Cope in the Apocalypse?

"No way! The power needed to kill Ron and infiltrate the estate is absolutely beyond what some immature, rookie kid like you can muster!"Edgar still couldn't believe it. Fifty years of martial arts training told him it was utterly impossible.Ah, so old-school—now I see why you never survived.Alexander had also noticed. Men like Edgar, who had devoted decades to the martial arts, simply refused to accept that the system could boost one's attributes. Some stubbornly refused to add those extra points, deeming such shortcuts as crooked and unorthodox.

When the seven-day new-player protection period of the Apocalypse Game ended, their lifelong training was rendered almost useless—often, they were outclassed by just any random zombie on the street. That was why such people met such dismal ends.In theory, those with a solid martial arts foundation should fare better in the apocalypse. But unfortunately, even by the late stages of the apocalypse, Alexander hadn't encountered many who truly mastered the Dragon Kingdom's martial arts.

Alexander didn't waste any time with idle chatter. Instead, he hurled a punch straight at Edgar.After all, Edgar had spent decades honing his skills. Confronted by Alexander's punch, which was loaded with raw power, Edgar reacted quickly—dropping his stance into a horse stance, crossing his arms, and choosing to block.

"Thump—thump—thump."Edgar staggered backward three steps before managing to absorb Alexander's force.Not bad. Alexander couldn't help but regard Edgar with newfound respect; his punch, if landed on Ron, would have easily floored him. But Edgar's eyes betrayed a trace of fear. That single punch had already left him at a disadvantage. It seemed Alexander would have to fight for his life.At that moment, Edgar's eyes went cold. Somehow, his body began to swell—an unexpected reaction. Although Alexander wasn't sure what technique Edgar was employing, a normal man would never sit idly by and wait for someone to unleash their full power.

Suddenly, Alexander's Tang Blade materialized in his hand. Without hesitation, he charged forward and slashed toward Edgar's chest.Edgar, despite decades of training, had no choice but to halt his buildup and stagger back several steps—barely evading the blade."You... you have no honor!" Edgar fumed."Honor? Whether you honor your martial way is none of my concern," Alexander replied dryly. "Come on, old man—Qing is long dead. If you're so hung up on honor, why don't you try showing it to the zombies?"Truly, a relic of the old ways.

Taking advantage of Edgar's momentary lapse, Alexander swung his blade again. Edgar, unwilling to directly trade blows with the Tang Blade, had no choice but to retreat further. "Damn it—when I was learning martial arts, I should have studied weapons as well! All this training in barehanded combat is useless when I can't even hold my own against a blade!" Edgar seethed internally.Alexander had been waiting for Edgar to back off. With a sudden burst, his Tang Blade accelerated and swung toward Edgar's unguarded right hand.

"Explosive Double Slash!"In midair, the Tang Blade left a phantom trail before it slashed into Edgar's right arm. The strike cut directly into the radius of his arm.In an instant too fast for Edgar to react, a second blow landed precisely at the same spot. This time, Edgar's radius gave out completely. His forearm was severed, tumbling to the ground.

Edgar stared in stunned silence at the dismembered remains of his right arm. Fifty years of painstaking martial arts training—and in one encounter, he'd lost his hand?He raised what remained of his right arm, watching in horror as bright red blood gushed from the broken edge. His heart sank with indescribable grief.Then he noticed something etched into the wound—a mark resembling an "X."It was the explosive imprint of the "Explosive Double Slash"!

The explosive imprint activated. While Edgar still stared at his wound, the explosion occurred. Edgar was powerless to react, forced to watch as his remaining half‑arm was obliterated. Moreover, because his face was too close, he too suffered from the blast. The explosion left his face a tangle of blood and flesh; even his eyes were shrouded in crimson, obscuring his vision.After patiently waiting for the explosion to subside, Alexander raised his Tang Blade once more. His eyes hardened as he swung it in a decisive arc. Edgar's throat felt a sudden, chilling cold before his consciousness faded—he was no more.

What a pitiful, old-fashioned man—clinging to outdated notions of martial honor even in the apocalypse, still insisting on debating techniques and honor. In reality, to survive, one must not only have sufficient strength but also be precise in reading the situation and keeping pace with the times.

Alexander paid no further heed to Edgar's corpse; instead, he turned his gaze to Derek, who was slumped motionless in a corner of the safe room—unaware of when he'd been stricken with fear.Alexander strode forward with determined steps and plunged his blade into Derek's thigh. Immediately, the searing pain snapped Derek awake, and he let out a tortured howl.

"Awake at last—no more playing dead?" Alexander removed his mask.Yet, even as he spoke, his Tang Blade did not cease its relentless assault. It trembled visibly as it continued plunging into Derek's thigh at a discernible, quivering pace—Alexander's self-developed "Vibrating Blade Technique." This technique, reminiscent of the terrifying knife wounds Ron had once described Carrie suffering, involved vibrating the blade as it pierced deep—effectively shredding the surrounding muscle tissue and amplifying the pain of the wound.Derek, who had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth and pampered his entire life, was ill-prepared for such agony. After a gut-wrenching wail, tears streaming down his face, he fainted once again.

Alexander then withdrew his Tang Blade and drove it into Derek's other thigh. The intense pain recurred, and Derek emitted another ghastly scream, reminiscent of a butcher's cry."Please, kill me—just kill me already," Derek pleaded, his mind on the verge of collapse."Kill you? Of course I will—if you hadn't reminded me, I'd have completely forgotten," Alexander replied, a trace of mock regret in his voice as if apologizing for neglecting to "treat" Derek properly.Then, Alexander retrieved from his storage a "most extraordinary" dagger.Extraordinary in that it was utterly decrepit—the blade riddled with nicks and covered in rust. Alexander had been immediately drawn to this treasure. Wasn't this the legendary "Tetanus Blunt Dagger"?

As the saying goes, the duller the knife, the harder it is to cut.Alexander raised the "Tetanus Blunt Dagger" and plunged it into the freshly wounded spot on Derek's thigh."Ahhhhh!" Derek's body convulsed violently."Ah, my apologies—this knife is too blunt; it couldn't pierce through. My fault," Alexander quickly "apologized."In truth, the dagger had not pierced at all—Alexander had merely forced the dull blade to widen the wound.Determined to make amends, Alexander raised the blunt dagger again. This time, summoning all his strength, he drove it deep into Derek's palm."This cut is for me," Alexander declared.