According to the base’s rules, the central zone was always brightly lit with electric lights, ensuring the safety and security of its organizational headquarters. Naturally, no one objected to this arrangement—at least, the upper echelons of the base hadn’t received a single letter of protest, not even one.Percy’s private estate sprawled across 3,600 square meters. Before the apocalypse, he dared not flaunt such extravagance, and his father didn’t own a mansion vast enough to allow such indulgence. But after the apocalypse, property had lost much of its value, and no one dared question where Percy chose to live. He had claimed this estate as his personal residence.The estate was brightly illuminated, and a dozen beautiful women frolicked passionately in the swimming pool. Around them, more than ten men pursued them, entirely naked. Couples tangled freely, their bare flesh rubbing together, engaging in unabashedly intimate acts.Scenes of indulgence abounded: one man attended by seve
Murphy, Percy’s father, was neither a fool, a reckless man, nor a madman. Neither were the four battalion commanders or the thirteen vice-commanders under his command. At Lakeside Base, fools, reckless individuals, and madmen were either weaklings or under constant surveillance, which was why Percy had never feared anyone.Except for one glaring exception: the man currently floating above him.Verne was both a fool and the epitome of recklessness and madness, completely unchecked by anyone.Who would dare to restrain him?Rumors swirled within the military that when Riddle unleashed his fury, his power rivaled even Fergus’s. Though this claim remained unverified, no baseless rumor could persist for so long without merit.This was the person Percy feared most—someone he avoided at all costs. Percy had never initiated even the slightest contact with Verne. After all, who knew when the man might suddenly lose control and wreak havoc?And yet, here he was. What had provoked Verne’s fury t
The letter expressed Percy’s long-held admiration for Verne—specifically his unique way of eating cucumbers. It invited “her” to a moonlit tea gathering to build a closer bond, enjoy cucumbers together, and perhaps discuss unresolved logistical matters.Everyone who heard it felt a strange awkwardness. The tone of the letter… undeniably bordered on sexual harassment.The letter, of course, was originally sent by Percy to harass Wallflower, testing her reaction. In a normal context outside working hours, Percy could excuse it as a poorly conceived personal message—tactless but not actionable, especially in a post-apocalyptic world with fewer societal constraints.But it wasn’t intended for a man. Two men bonding over cucumbers? That was an entirely different story.Anyone here receiving such a letter from another man would be even angrier than Verne was now.At this moment, the chaotic emotions on Verne’s face seemed to have distracted him from his initial desire for revenge.Murphy’s
After completing his morning routine, Memphis officially began his 20th day in the apocalypse.First on the agenda: strengthening his abilities. Yesterday’s relentless assaults, especially from two Level 4 pieces of equipment, had made him forget all about the energy crystals he had collected from the Medi Sphere battlefield near Lakeside Bridge. Now, he retrieved 6,000 experience crystals and 4 potential crystals, systematically absorbing them into his body.Each crystal glowed and disappeared as its energy merged into his being. Even after using these countless times, Memphis still couldn’t quite grasp the mechanism. How did something tangible convert into numerical gains? Was his body crushing the crystals, or was the parasitic system aiding absorption? If so, were others also parasitized? Did zombies turn consumed humans into their own experience points...?As he consumed the resources, his mind wandered until 80% of the crystals were absorbed, and the cold, mechanical system voic
Not only were these foods delicious, but they also provided prolonged satiety. Memphis vividly recalled a single piece of mutant fish or dog meat being enough to sustain a person through a full day of combat. Currently, their catch included only Level 2 or Level 3 mutant fish and sewer rats—not high-level enough.Memphis identified three potential sources of high-level mutant animals. He ordered Allan to investigate one site that morning, assigned Lionel to another, and planned to inspect the third himself."Or we could butcher that dumb dog, salt the near-ton of meat, and ration it. That’d work fine too."The third solution involved studying and learning from the dumb dog. Big Black Dog could operate tirelessly all day, consuming zombie corpses and magical crystal shards as sustenance. This represented an abundant and potent source of energy. However, replicating this ability seemed challenging, humans clearly couldn’t consume zombies as food.Another possibility was investigating ho
The breeding section housed mutated rats—Level 2 and Level 3 specimens, plump and meticulously cleaned, each confined in individual cages and fed high-grade zombie flesh.This operation was extremely dangerous. Rats could carry diseases such as plague or even mysterious ailments causing sudden death. Memphis was well aware of this, which was why the task was assigned to individuals previously tasked with monitoring steel cages in Sunny Hills.If they lived, great. If not, so be it.Previously, these people had overseen women used as bait for zombies. Now they watched over mutant rats for fresh meat—a poetic twist of karma. Struggling to descend, Memphis moved forward along the tunnel. The dim light of flickering lamps illuminated the way, while the damp, stifling air made it difficult to breathe.“Air circulation is pretty bad. Next time, I should bring an oxygen tank.” he muttered, carefully observing his surroundings. Nothing suspicious caught his eye—just a few dead rats poisoned by the traps laid earlier. A summoned group of undead minions quickly collected the carcasses, packing them into burlap sacks to be dealt with later.This tunnel was meant to be accessed solely by him, no one else was allowed to handle the cleanup work.After walking roughly a kilometer, Memphis arrived at a semi-familiar holding room—this was the containment unit for M2, level 24.The chamber was heavily fortified, equipped with gasoline bombs, explosives, floodlights, surveillance cameras, and rat traps. Every precaution was taken to ensure the prisoner could live as comfortably and securely as possible. M2 was a high-leveApocalypse System: How To Destroy My Resources? Chapter 570:
As skills evolved and levels increased, so too did the madness and distortion. Here was a human carrying zombie meat with pride, enthusiastically discussing its preparation as though it were a culinary delight.If they knew about the secret society formed by the four survivors in Hope Town—a group focused on eating third-tier zombies, exchanging recipes for better flavor and enhanced abilities—their shock would reach new heights.Pushing that thought aside, Memphis narrowed his eyes at the E3 Level 33 zombie. This monster chose to consume brains and internal organs—the most grotesque parts. But why? Brains made some sense, given they housed medicinal crystals. But organs? Why not eat ribs or thighs—the "prime cuts"?