The Role of the Humanoid Zombie Lure

The woman in the tree caught sight of Lucas Kane.

He stood there like a harbinger of death, calm, expressionless, the air of silent menace radiating from his figure. A shiver ran through her as she begged, voice trembling, "Please... don't kill me... I'll do anything... I can serve you... I swear I'll never betray you."

Lucas raised an eyebrow. An idea flashed through his mind.

He reached into his storage ring and pulled out a half-consumed bottle of purified water—the same one Victor Cross had left behind. It wasn't something Lucas intended to drink, but wasting it wasn't wise either. With a casual flick, he tossed it up to the woman.

"Drink this. I won't kill you," he said coldly.

"Th-thank you... thank you!" she cried. "Can you help me down? I'll do anything!"

"Not now," Lucas replied, eyes sharp. "You're staying up there tonight. I'll let you down tomorrow."

Her breath hitched. "Tonight...? In the tree?"

But when her gaze met his, she saw no room for negotiation. Swallowing her protest, she nodded meekly. "Okay... I'll stay here."

Lucas turned away without another word.

He headed toward the small supermarket near the gated entrance. The shelves were barren. Whatever had value had been stripped clean by Victor Cross. The few remaining items were either expired or corroded by red fungus. Even the front counter had been cleared—two tables pushed together where Victor had apparently spent the night. The makeshift bed was barely 1.5 meters long, 1 meter wide. Uncomfortable at best, dangerous at worst.

"No wonder he was so irritable."

Lucas moved on, checking nearby shops. Same story—empty, mold-covered, or spoiled.

Returning to the front gate, he inspected the thick metal fence that separated the complex from the outside. Gripping the bars, he gave it a firm shake. It held strong, only quivering slightly.

There was one small pedestrian gate with a broken magnetic lock. It would swing shut but never seal. From his ring, Lucas pulled out a chain lock, wrapped it tight, and secured it with a satisfying click. Now the perimeter was sealed.

"Good," he murmured. "Now we wait."

His plan was simple: use the woman in the tree as bait. Her scent would attract zombies overnight—safer than drawing them himself. Come morning, he'd eliminate them through the fence—safe, efficient, and effective.

Time was short. The sun was setting fast. About two hours remained before dusk.

Lucas checked his blueprint for the Sharpened Tang Sword. He needed ten metal weapons and ten energy cores. The cores weren't an issue—he had enough from previous kills. But weapons? He only had six: four kitchen knives, one fruit knife, and a fire axe.

His gaze turned to a curious keyring he'd picked up earlier. Unlike a normal bundle, these keys were all identical—each marked with numbered tape.

"These all look like door keys... could this guy have been a landlord?"

As he examined them, a message popped up:

[Your luck is astonishing. This is the master keyring to Building 8. You should buy a lottery ticket... if lotteries still existed.]

"Perfect."

Lucas made his way to Building 8.

Unlike other residential buildings, Building 8 stood on a small island, surrounded by water. Accessible only via a narrow stone bridge, the area felt secluded and secure. Around the building were flower beds and neatly trimmed hedges—almost picturesque.

"Easy to defend... this might be my new base."

Another system prompt appeared:

[No zombies detected here. But there is one very hungry cutie.]

Lucas frowned. "A... hungry cutie?"

No further details were offered.

"Guess I'll find out."

He scanned the key card at the building's entrance. The door opened silently. Clean air greeted him—no blood, no decay.

Inside was a single elevator shaft and a stairwell. Each floor housed one large apartment. From the ground up, Lucas unlocked and searched each unit. Everything was pristine, as though ready for tenants who never arrived. No food, no water—just new furniture and untouched appliances.

Still, the kitchens were stocked with utensils. By the time he'd cleared all the floors, he had found ten more kitchen knives and five more fruit knives—more than enough.

He was ready to forge a weapon worthy of survival.