I felt both joy and surprise because of the skill I had just discovered. My heart beat a little faster as my eyes lingered on the words in my status window. "Copy," it read — simple, yet holding limitless possibilities. The more I thought about it, the more I realized just how powerful this ability truly was. This wasn't some ordinary skill that could be erased or lost; no, this one was permanent. No matter what happened to me in the future, I would always have it.
The description replayed in my mind like an echo: the ability to imitate the skills of others, whether elemental or non-elemental. I imagined it vividly — borrowing fire from a mage, bending water like a seasoned sorcerer, or tearing through the ground with earth manipulation. And it didn't stop there. I could even copy more unique, dangerous abilities: telekinesis, shadow manipulation, blood control… maybe even rare and forbidden magics no one dared to wield.
I clenched my fists, feeling a strange mix of excitement and determination course through me. In my past life, my only combat abilities had been Wind Strike and Wind Slash — useful, but nowhere near enough to survive the later stages of the apocalypse. This time, though… this time I would be unstoppable.
After a few moments of daydreaming about all the possible skills I could acquire, I decided it was time to act. No matter how strong my abilities were, I couldn't survive on powers alone. Supplies were the backbone of survival, especially in the chaos of an apocalypse.
I headed straight to the mall, my footsteps quick with purpose. The automatic doors slid open, releasing a faint gust of cool, air-conditioned air that contrasted with the warm breeze outside. Inside, the mall felt strangely peaceful — families were shopping, kids were laughing, and the food court buzzed with chatter. If they only knew what was coming…
I shook off the thought and grabbed a shopping cart. My first stop was the supermarket section. I began filling the cart with all sorts of canned goods — corned beef, sardines, beans, soups — anything with a long shelf life. Next, I added instant noodles, rice, pasta, and packets of seasoning. I knew from experience that variety was important; eating the same thing every day would drain morale faster than zombies could.
I moved to the produce section and picked up vegetables like potatoes, carrots, onions, and garlic — the kinds that lasted longer without refrigeration. Even though my space domain could preserve things perfectly, I still wanted ingredients that were naturally long-lasting, in case I needed to trade or share later.
After an hour of going up and down aisles, I had filled not just one but three carts. The cashier gave me a strange look as she scanned everything, but I simply smiled and told her I was preparing for a long trip. If only she knew.
Once the groceries were done, my next destination was the gun store. This time, I didn't bother pretending my purchases were normal. I knew what I needed: two shotguns, three handguns, an assault rifle, boxes of ammunition, and as many grenades as they were willing to sell to a civilian. The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow at the grenades, but after I slid over the payment, he stopped asking questions. Money always had a way of silencing curiosity.
With supplies and weapons secured, I reviewed my plan. Originally, I wanted to build a custom, zombie-proof house — something fortified with traps, steel reinforcements, and maybe even magical defenses once I had the right skills. But the clock was ticking. A few months wasn't enough to construct something from scratch, not without drawing attention.
That left me with one practical option: buy an existing house and modify it.
I spent the rest of the day scouting potential properties. I wanted something isolated, far from the chaos of crowded neighborhoods. It had to be big enough to store my supplies and adaptable enough for future fortifications.
After hours of searching, I found it.
The house stood alone, no neighbors in sight, surrounded by a tall perimeter fence. The building itself was wide and spacious, easily twice the size of my old home. The paint had faded and the roof showed signs of age, but the structure looked solid. More importantly, its location was perfect — only a short drive from the mall yet far enough from prying eyes.
There was a faded sign on the gate with a phone number. Without hesitation, I pulled out my phone and dialed.
"Hello?" a man's voice answered.
"Hi, I'm calling about the house near the mall. Is it still for sale?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.
"Yes, it's still for sale. Why, are you interested?"
"Yes, I'm interested. How much are you asking for it?"
"It's only twenty-five million," he replied. "It's old, but if you want it, everything inside comes with it — furniture, appliances, even some tools left behind."
That sealed the deal for me. "I'll take it."
There was a brief pause, as if the man was surprised by my quick decision. "Alright, then. Let's meet at Bxxxx to finalize the papers."
"Sounds good," I said. We exchanged a few more details before hanging up.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket, glancing at the house once more. Soon, this place would become my fortress, my safe haven when the dead began to walk the earth again. In my past life, I had been unprepared and reckless, relying too much on the moment. But now? Now I had foresight, skills, and resources.
The apocalypse might be inevitable, but this time I would face it on my own terms.