SWNOVELXO Chapter 6: [Solm's Speech]
He knew how these early days would play out.
He knew the death toll would skyrocket.
People would give in to despair, and each fallen human would only add to the ranks of the undead. The first month would be pure hell.
Civilization wouldn't crumble immediately, but panic and disorder would turn cities into death traps.
Governments would struggle to maintain order, but the truth was, only those who took fate into their own hands would survive.
And Leon had every intention of surviving.
The car hummed beneath him as he turned onto a quieter street, his mind calculating his next move. He needed a place to lay low.
Somewhere off the grid, where zombies wouldn't wander and where desperate survivors wouldn't find him.
Most people wouldn't have figured out that humans turning into zombies wasn't random — it was based on willpower. Those who gave in to despair were the first to turn.
That meant, within the next few hours, most people would still be human, but within the next day or so, entire streets would be swarmed with the undead.
He needed to get off the streets.
He racked his brain for a suitable hideout. The city had a few potential safe spots, but he needed one that wouldn't be obvious.
Somewhere secluded, abandoned. Then it hit him — the old warehouse on the outskirts of the zone. He had housed there before, well in the future.
Leon turned the steering wheel hard, veering left and merging onto a smaller, more deserted road. The further he drove, the quieter it became.
The towering buildings gave way to smaller, more worn-down structures. The roads here were cracked and littered with weeds, evidence of neglect long before the apocalypse even began.
It was perfect.
After about an hour of careful maneuvering through side streets and avoiding areas that looked even remotely risky, he finally arrived.
The warehouse was just as he remembered — rusted metal doors, broken windows, and an eerie stillness. He killed the engine and sat there for a moment, scanning his surroundings.
Silence.
No movement, no signs of the undead.
'Perfect.'
He stepped out of the car cautiously, knife in hand, ready for any surprises. The air was thick with the scent of dust and rust.
He moved toward the warehouse doors and gave them a slow, careful push. They creaked open, revealing the vast emptiness inside.
Rows of rusted shelves stood in disarray, scattered debris covering the floor. He did a quick sweep of the interior, checking every corner, every potential hiding spot.
'Nothing.'
A breath of relief escaped his lips.
He returned to his car, grabbed as many supplies as he could carry, and brought them inside.
Water bottles, canned food, a few basic medical supplies — it wasn't much, but it would sustain him for now.
He made several trips until he was satisfied that everything important was secured inside.
Once inside, he barricaded the doors using an old metal beam and some wooden pallets he found lying around.
It wouldn't hold forever, but it would be enough to keep out any wandering zombies.
With everything settled, he allowed himself to finally sit down.
The weight of the day pressed onto his shoulders, exhaustion creeping into his bones.
He leaned his head back against a cold metal shelf and closed his eyes for a brief moment.
The real nightmare would start in earnest once people realized that survival wasn't guaranteed. That the weak would perish, and the strong… well, the strong would carve their own path.
Leon exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around the knife in his hand.
"I won't die like last time," he muttered to himself.
And then he fell asleep.
#####
Leon woke up to a noise.
Not the kind that came from the warehouse where he had holed up for the night, but something far more insidious — an echo that vibrated within his skull.
It wasn't just him. Every human still alive could hear it, a voice dripping with amusement, a chuckle that carried an eerie weight.
It was Solm.
The god's laughter rang through his mind, followed by a voice that was both smooth and condescending.
"Welcome, dear survivors, to the first phase of the apocalypse."
Leon sat up instantly, his heart hammering. He had known this was coming. He had heard this speech before, lived through it once.
But experiencing it again sent a cold shiver down his spine. Solm's voice held the same cruel amusement as before, as though watching humans scramble in despair was nothing more than a spectacle.
"Ah, but let me explain the rules," Solm continued. "Surely, you must be curious? The apocalypse is no mindless disaster. It has order. It has purpose."
Leon already knew.
The gods treated this world as entertainment, a grand game of survival, a test of humanity's resilience. And yet, despite knowing what came next, he listened with a clenched jaw.
"This, my dear humans, is the Zombie Apocalypse Phase. The first of many trials to come," Solm said, his tone almost celebratory. "The rules are simple: survive. If you die, you will rise again... but not as yourself. If you lose the will to live, you will turn. Give up, and your body will no longer be yours."
Leon shut his eyes. He had seen it happen before.
People who couldn't handle the fear, the hunger, the sheer cruelty of this world — they had crumbled. And in their despair, their bodies had shifted, rotted, become something inhuman.
The weak-willed became zombies. Even those who sought escape through suicide found their corpses reanimated, stripped of their humanity.
"This trial shall last six months," Solm continued. "And to make it interesting… the one who slays the most zombies within this period shall receive unfathomable power. A blessing directly from the gods."
Leon let out a slow breath, his fingers curling into a fist. He knew what Solm meant by that.
The reward wasn't just 'unfathomable power.' It was the [Blessing of Solomon].
It was what had created the strongest player in his past life.
The [Blessing of Solomon] — an enhancement that increased all of one's stats tenfold.