Chapter 20: Searching the Cabin, Walking Corpses

"Chip, display my attributes and make the data accurate to three decimal places."

With Zhang Ran's command, streams of silver information flickered before his eyes, finally coalescing into a transparent profile window.

"[Name: Zhang Ran]
[Strength: Level 0 Evolver]
[Power: 1.915]
[Constitution: 1.904]
[Agility: 1.825]
[Mental: 1.832]"

"It looks like my power and constitution will soon reach the physical limit! However, if I want to bring my other attributes up to the human limit, it'll still take some time."

Gazing at his stats, Zhang Ran nodded slightly.

At this rate, he only needed to slay a hundred Bone-Eater Rats for his power and constitution to reach the human limit. Even if he switched to the less energy-rich Berserk Field Mice, killing three hundred would still be enough for Zhang Ran to break through.

After reviewing his attributes, Zhang Ran turned over and pulled out a collection pouch from his pack, then crouched down and carefully severed the ten claws of the Bone-Eater Rat, placing them into the bag.

As a creature imbued with potent viruses and radiation, none of the Bone-Eater Rat's tissues were edible—even boiling them would not remove their deadly poison.

However, its claws and blood were valuable materials, used to make poison potent even against low-level mutated creatures. Of course, blood was difficult to collect, so most people only harvested their claws after killing them, which could be sold at twenty Black Hawk coins per set.

"It's time for a bite to eat."

After a battle that was not too intense, Zhang Ran felt a wave of hunger. Checking the time in his chip, he saw that it was already ten in the morning.

When they left the base in the morning, the trainees hadn't eaten breakfast, and it had been about sixteen hours since last night's dinner, so feeling hungry now was entirely natural.

With that thought, Zhang Ran stopped and surveyed the surroundings.

"This will do."

He walked roughly two hundred meters and found a relatively intact low-rise building, approaching its entrance.

After a century of erosion, the already flimsy synthetic wood door had rotted beyond repair. Zhang Ran, with a light slash of his military knife, easily carved a gaping hole in it—of course, even without corrosion, the door would not withstand a second strike from someone with nearly two points of strength.

Upon entering the small house, he found the cracked walls covered in deep green moss, the floor thick with dust and vegetation, and assorted debris scattered everywhere: yellowed pages, half-chewed shoes, shattered porcelain bowls...

Thanks to the shielding of radiation clouds, the light in the wilderness was already dim, and even more so inside. Zhang Ran paid it no mind, heading for the dining table in the hall, quickly clearing away the moss and dust from the table and chairs, then sat down.

Next, he took a hard plastic tube from his backpack. Holding it up, he peered through its wall to see inside—a thick, black paste filled the tube, about as wide as a ping pong ball.

This was high-energy food, processed from mutant beast meat, grains, and vegetables, rich in calories. For an ordinary person, a single tube of it would provide enough energy for a day.

Zhang Ran’s pack contained ten tubes, the final gift from the youth training camp. Afterward, replenishing high-energy food required Black Hawk coins. Each tube cost twenty coins—not expensive, but far from cheap.

He opened the tube’s stopper and dumped a hefty lump of high-energy food into his mouth, chewing heartily.

As it entered his mouth, Zhang Ran felt as though he’d stuffed himself with rubber—tough and sticky. Its taste was dry and salty, almost impossible to swallow.

He managed to force it down, and the hunger dissipated, replaced by thirst—the food, to preserve freshness and supplement salt, contained a significant amount of salt, leaving his mouth and throat parched.

He took a military canteen from his pack, poured a capful of purified water, sipped carefully, and closed the canteen again.

The canteen only held two liters of purified water. Unless he found a water source in the wild, wasting any was unacceptable. This was why Zhang Ran drank sparingly.

He soon began searching the small house. Since it was far from the forward base and had not been explored by other members, it might still hold valuable items.

After searching the first floor—which consisted mainly of the kitchen, living room, and several bathrooms—he found only broken furniture, tattered clothes riddled with holes and dust, and abandoned junk. Nothing of value.

He hacked a thick stick from a broken bookshelf, then shaped it into a feather duster with his military knife, increasing its surface area for easier burning. Finally, he lit the makeshift torch using a fire starter from his pack.

Torch in hand, Zhang Ran approached the stairs to the second floor. The old stairway was covered in moss, and as he stepped on it, it creaked ominously, as though it might collapse beneath his weight.

The second floor was even darker than the first, illuminated only by the faint yellow glow of his homemade torch, lighting the area a few meters around him.

Holding the torch aloft, Zhang Ran walked down the corridor, reaching the first room. The door was half open, so he stepped forward and gently pushed it wider.

A sudden gust of cold wind blew out from the room, making the torch flame flicker dangerously close to extinguishing. Along with the breeze, a faint stench filled the air.

"Corpse odor! Could there be a walker?"

He sniffed, and his eyes brightened. Following the light of his torch, he peered into the room.

It was a bedroom of about twenty square meters. Several cabinets had toppled onto the floor, the ground a mess. The broken window was covered thickly with vines, making the room especially gloomy.

By the torchlight, Zhang Ran saw a woman with a grotesque appearance: a face completely rotten, eyes white and lifeless, flesh torn and exuding a foul stench, legs pale and shriveled, hands grown with sharp claws—all signs pointed to one thing: this was no living person, but a dangerous walker.