In the kitchen, Lin Fan transformed into a domesticated man, turning on the faucet to wash the dishes.
Even though zombies had appeared and it had become the apocalypse, as a man capable of taking good care of himself, he needed to clean the dishes thoroughly and make everything neat and tidy—that was what he called living.
The porcelain bowls, under his diligent efforts, gleamed with cleanliness, which made him very happy. He then sorted the dishes, revealing a contented smile.
He liked to work; only through labor could he feel useful.
Picking up the kitchen knife, he looked through the peephole at the movements outside. Mr. Wang from property management was still swaying at the door, motionless as before, very still and calm, creating the illusion that he could take on a hundred zombies without breaking a sweat.
"Ah, really sneaky, pretending to be deceptive to lure people in," Lin Fan sighed. Now, it wasn't just humans playing tricks; even the zombies had started scheming. What kind of honesty could be expected in such a life?
If zombies could talk, they would probably be furious, thinking, "If you didn't make a sound, I would definitely rest."
He opened the security door.
"Mr. Wang, it isn't time to pay the property fees yet. I've always been proactive about it, never needing a reminder," Lin Fan said, standing at the door, his actions awakening the other.
Having turned into a zombie, Mr. Wang was extremely ferocious. He had been fierce even when alive, and now was even fiercer.
The zombie Mr. Wang let out a hideous roar, uglier than other zombies, and as he roared, veins in his neck bulged, looking like his eyes might pop out.
He lunged at Lin Fan.
"Mr. Wang, don't attack me."
The other didn't listen.
Lin Fan shook his head and swung his knife, chopping with a 'slurp'. The head separated from the body, filthy blood spurting out.
Feeling that a strength of 12 was much more potent; it was a lot easier than when he first started chopping.
Now he had earned more points.
Better to add to strength.
Looking at the three bodies on the ground, namely, Liu Weiwei, the programmer, and Mr. Wang, he had forgotten to deal with yesterday's bodies, and they were beginning to smell.
This was a public area, and he, who never liked to ruin the communal environment, felt it was necessary to do something.
The stench would contaminate the environment, and the neighbors smelling it would definitely complain.
They would surely say, "Gosh, who's eating stinky tofu? It really smells."
No sooner said than done.
The elevator stopped on the second floor, and he pressed the elevator button.
The elevator operated, humming.
The neighborhood was an old one, and the elevator, equally old, often broke down.
Soon, the elevator doors opened, revealing a wheelchair inside with a zombie, a middle-aged man he recognized; he had heard about him since he was young.
He had been up to no good, using drugs and stealing electricity wires at a young age. He once got electrocuted, lucky to survive but had his limbs amputated and ever since depended on a wheelchair.
"Uncle Zhang, out for some sun? I'm just moving some stuff downstairs; it'll be quick," Lin Fan greeted with a smile.
Although Uncle Zhang was a zombie, he hadn't bothered him and seemed relatively friendly.
In the past, many neighbors used to use Uncle Zhang as a cautionary tale for their children.
If you don't study well and become a bad kid, you'll end up like him—scaring many kids into loving their studies.
Lin Fan never discriminated against anyone; he always nodded and greeted Uncle Zhang whenever he saw him.
He moved the three bodies into the elevator. The elevator was a bit cramped, pushing Uncle Zhang's wheelchair into a corner. The black bloodstains dirtied the elevator; he'd have to clean it later.
The elevator doors slowly closed.
Seeing the blood and flesh, Uncle Zhang let out a fierce roar and fell from the wheelchair onto the bodies, shifting his body, trying to bite Lin Fan's legs.
"Uncle Zhang, you just can't change your old ways."
Lin Fan shook his head, wondering why it had to be this way. Even if you turned into a zombie, as long as you didn't attack others unprovoked, you would be a good zombie.
Lin Fan casually moved four bodies out and looked up at the sky. The weather was nice, sunny, and utterly silent.
There used to be a group of old men exercising their bodies, playing chess, drinking tea, boasting, and chatting about home. Now, these scenes were no more.
He moved the four bodies to the dumpster, stuffed them in. They were a bit too big, couldn't close the lid, so had to leave it like that, hoping the sanitation workers would take them away.
He went to the fitness equipment and stepped on it, swinging his legs back and forth.
The complex was deserted and silent, with only Lin Fan exercising.
"Where did everyone go?"
Lin Fan wondered. Though the zombie outbreak happened, there should be some zombies around, even if there were no living people.
Now there wasn't even a hair.
After thirty minutes of exercise.
A zombie staggered out from the distant staircase portal, and upon seeing Lin Fan's figure, it shrieked like it had spotted prey and crazily sprinted towards him.
"Sanitation worker auntie, how did you turn out ?"
His face bitter, without the sanitation worker auntie's cleaning, the dumpster would just sit there.
Lin Fan swung his knife, struck its head, dropping it dead.
"Auntie, the dumpster is almost full, it surely needs to be taken away, but now there's no one to take it. But don't worry, as a member of this community, I'm willing to do what I can."
He threw the sanitation worker auntie into the dumpster.
The already nearly full dumpster got even fuller.
He didn't feel that killing a zombie attacking him was a wrongful act.
He had been educated through nine years of compulsory schooling.
To be a law-abiding good citizen.
But he also frequently watched legal videos. Zhang San had clearly said that when one's personal safety is threatened, it's lawful to defend oneself without facing legal consequences.
Even the law was on his side, so he had nothing to reproach himself for.
He thought for a moment, it must be about foreseeing a crisis and defending oneself in advance. Yes, that was the right thing, exactly.
After doing all this, he took the elevator, stopped on the second floor, and placed the wheelchair at Uncle Zhang's doorstep.
Returning it to its rightful owner.
A very particular act.
He held a bucket and mop, cleaning the hallway's floor smeared with blood, which smelled foul, easily making the place look like a haunted house.
As an owner of this place, he had to keep it spotlessly clean.
Much later, the bucket turned a dark red, flushed the contents down the toilet, and carefully wiped the bloodstains inside the elevator. There used to be lots of locksmith ads stuck on the doors and walls between neighbors.
All diligently cleaned up by him.
These were minor things, no loss or gain involved.
Looking at the clean hallway, and the shiny, reflective elevator, he smiled with satisfaction.
"Finally done, time to surf the net, be a web-addicted teen."
He had gotten used to living alone, eating alone, sleeping alone.
But that was all okay, he had teddy bear dolls to keep him company.
And many online friends who spoke nicely and were fun to hang around with.