Bai Mu fished the last pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Dragging out a small stool, he sat beneath the eaves, struck a match, lit the tobacco, and took a deep drag.
Parked in the concrete yard was a heavily modified combat vehicle, armored with steel plates and iron spikes. The metal was heavily stained with dark, dried blood.
He stared at the steel beast in silence. Looking at the vehicle that had accompanied him for so long was the only thing that brought him a sliver of comfort.
Hunger gnawed at his insides. He had very little food left. While his water reserves were still decent, water alone could not keep a man alive.
He never imagined that after surviving the apocalypse for ten years, his greatest crisis wouldn't be the roaming Zombies, but this relentless drought.
Bai Mu blew a smoke ring and sat in a daze for a moment before heading into the house to haul out the gas cans.
It was time to leave. Staying in this house any longer was pointless. He had to drive away before starvation stripped him of the strength to walk, and head toward a place that might hold a glimmer of hope.
He fueled up the combat vehicle—a heavily modified imported off-road SUV—and tossed his machete, firearms, and the last of his bullets into the passenger seat, along with his homemade incendiaries and pipe bombs.
Of course, the one thing he absolutely couldn't forget was that old radio.
Thankfully, the radio still worked. He slotted in a cassette tape, tucked a childhood photograph of him and his grandmother into his breast pocket, and played her favorite traditional opera. Driving the steel beast, he departed from the home he had shared with her.
The weather-beaten vehicle rolled over familiar old roads. The village was deathly silent and completely empty. He had cleared out the Zombies here ten years ago. Back then, after overcoming countless obstacles to return to his hometown, all that had welcomed him was sheer devastation.
Passing by the wheat field at the edge of the village, he stopped to burn joss paper in front of two earthen mounds—one large, one small. The larger mound was his grandmother's grave; the smaller one belonged to the loyal golden retriever that had kept him company for eight years.
He did not linger for long. Before the sun could set, the combat vehicle roared onto the highway.
Rusted, scrapped cars littered the area. Zombies with rotting flesh and exposed white bones crawled along the desolate asphalt.
A decade ago, the Zombies had been highly energetic, rivaling seasoned sprinters. Now, even they had grown old. The scorching sun had evaporated the moisture from their bodies, leaving them blackened and emaciated like starving, vengeful ghouls.
Only a very small fraction of the Zombies still retained the ability to walk or run. Bai Mu called them Mutants.
It was already dusk. Waves of heat rolled across the highway as a massive, blood-red sun dipped below the horizon.
The roar of the engine drew in all the surrounding Zombies and Mutants. These monsters were highly sensitive to sound and smell; the slightest noise or drop of blood would send them lunging forward like starving hyenas.
Bai Mu steered with one hand and shoved the barrel of his shotgun out the window with the other.
Any Mutant that tried to get close was met with a point-blank headshot, splattering dark gray brains across the pavement.
The nearby Zombie horde wasn't too massive; he could still punch through.
He drove along the highway for several days. It was another evening, and his mind was growing hazy and delirious.
He trespassed into an unfamiliar territory, only to be instantly surrounded by a massive swarm of Zombies and Mutants.
He didn't know if he could break out of this encirclement. At this point, there was no way to ration his bullets anymore. He could only fire with reckless abandon.
It was fine. It had been a long time since he'd enjoyed such a thrilling slaughter.
Incendiary bombs detonated violently amidst the horde, bursting into blood-red flames. Accompanied by the hiss of burning fuses, the pipe bombs blew the Zombies apart, sending severed limbs flying in all directions.
An eyeball slapped against the windshield and burst, its viscous fluids streaking across the glass in the wind.
The stench of rotting corpses and burning gasoline filled his nose. He was long accustomed to the scent; his heart remained entirely composed.
Just as the setting sun was reduced to a tiny arc on the horizon, he reached toward the passenger seat and suddenly froze.
The seat was completely empty. He had finally reached the day where he was completely out of ammunition and supplies.
The road ahead was dead-ended by abandoned vehicles. Hundreds of cars had piled up into a massive wreck at the bend.
Drawn by the roar of the engine, the Zombies surged forward like a tidal wave ready to drown him.
It was an expected end. Even before he set out, he had a premonition that this would likely be the final moment of his life.
In the dimming world, listening to the dense, shuffling footsteps closing in from behind, Bai Mu reminisced about the days he spent sitting on the back of his grandmother's tricycle, heading to the bustling market.
He was just a child back then, staring boredly at the sky, counting the clouds.
Those carefree days filled him with profound nostalgia. He missed the scent of the wheat fields and fresh earth. He missed the smell of wood ash drifting from the old earthen kitchen, and the wisps of cooking smoke rising from every chimney under the golden sunset.
Those peaceful, stable days were gone forever. Bai Mu could only cherish them in his memories.
He slammed on the brakes, pulled out the crumpled cigarette pack, and lit the very last cigarette. Using all his remaining strength, he took a deep, dragging inhale.
Countless Zombies swarmed the vehicle. He rolled down the window and jammed the glowing red cherry of his cigarette straight into a Zombie's eye, letting it sizzle. Then, Bai Mu tore open the dashboard and ignited a fuse hidden inside.
A few seconds later, a thunderous boom erupted. The entire combat vehicle exploded in a blinding flash of smoke and hellfire.
The sun sank below the horizon, and the world returned to silence.
...
[Body transmission in progress. Severe physical damage detected in Player. Initiating repair sequence...]
[10%, 20%, 50%, 100%. Repairs complete.]
[Player K8107, welcome to the Endless Paradise.]
In the pitch-black void, an unfamiliar voice echoed in Bai Mu's ears. It was an androgynous voice, devoid of any discernible gender or emotion.
[First-time Player detected. Randomly selecting a novice Script...]
[Selection complete. You are now entering Single-Player Mode (Novice).]
[Script Name: Deserted Island Survival.]
[Current Script Hazard Rating: F-Grade.]
[Playing Script introduction now.]
The pitch-black world suddenly lit up. Cinematic visuals began to play before Bai Mu's eyes.
It showed an ocean battered by a torrential storm. A cruise ship violently pitched in the raging waves, tumbling like a fragile leaf caught in a flood.
The salty, briny stench of seawater and the freezing ocean winds blew directly into his face. Thunder rolled through the sky. Bai Mu felt a jarring illusion that he was truly out on the open sea.
[This was supposed to be a joyous maritime voyage. A private luxury liner carried you out into the azure sea, where you could throw wild parties, bask in the sea breeze on the deck, and enjoy your vacation.]
[However, a devastating tsunami struck alongside a fierce typhoon. When you wake up, you find that this terrifying natural disaster has washed you ashore on an uninhabited Deserted Island. To make matters worse, you have absolutely nothing on you besides a shirt and a pair of shorts. No phone, no internet, no food, and no tools.]
[Unable to contact anyone, you are forced to live like Robinson Crusoe, struggling to survive on this isolated Deserted Island, far away from human civilization.]
[Main Quest: Survive for 30 days.]
As the voice faded, Bai Mu's vision flared bright, and his normal senses returned. He could freely control his limbs once again.
The very first thing he felt was the salty sea breeze. Stretched out before him was a sparkling, shimmering ocean. The azure sea churned with wave after wave, white seafoam rolling along the crests.
Bright sunlight reflected off the water's surface. He was standing on a sandy beach—or more accurately, standing beneath a palm tree on a sandy beach.
Seagulls swooped low through the sky. Crashing waves washed over the reef in front of him, sliding all the way up to his feet and soaking his shoes. His toes felt pleasantly cool, though the fine grit of the sand made the soles of his feet a bit uncomfortable.
A hermit crab scurried across the sand while the palm leaves rustled overhead. He looked down at his clothes to find that he was actually wearing a gaudy Hawaiian shirt and a pair of shorts. He was dripping wet from head to toe, looking as though he had just crawled right out of the sea.
The last image in his memory was igniting the suicide bomb inside his combat vehicle—a contingency plan he had prepared a long time ago. He should have perished in that fiery explosion, taking a massive horde of Zombies down with him. Yet, upon waking, he somehow found himself in such a...
Well, peaceful and beautiful beach.
Bai Mu scratched his head. He had heard the bizarre voice and completely understood the meaning behind its words.
But it was all too absurd. It was incredibly hard to believe.
He noticed that his body had grown younger, reverting back to his absolute physical prime. The exhaustion, starvation, and dehydration that should have crippled him were completely gone. He felt extraordinarily healthy.
Regardless of the circumstances, the bottom line was that he was still alive.
Some miraculous, incomprehensible power had brought him to this island and granted him a second chance at life.
It felt like a dream—an incredibly vivid dream.
In this dream, a voice had told him that he was playing a game, and the objective was to survive on this Deserted Island for 30 days.
What exactly was on this Deserted Island?
Would there be Zombies?
It didn't look like it.
Looking at the lush, vibrant trees and the birds fluttering among the branches, Bai Mu felt a long-lost sense of relaxation wash over him.
He had almost forgotten the last time he saw a living bird. It had been so long since he felt such an active, thriving aura of life. He simply found it beautiful.
He casually scaled a nearby palm tree and knocked down a few plump coconuts.
As he picked one up, lines of text suddenly popped up in front of his eyes.
[Name: Fresh Coconut]
[Type: Flora]
[Quality: Normal]
[Note: The coconut tree is known as the tree of life in many places. It is said that in a distant country, there is a popular, peculiar coconut beverage. Before drinking it, the people there strike a bizarre pose, which is seen as a prayer to the Coconut God.]
Bai Mu took a few seconds to adjust to and read the text. He wasn't exactly an expert when it came to video games, but he knew that this kind of item description was a staple in electronic games.
'So I can observe useful information just with my bare eyes?' Bai Mu pondered while cradling the coconut. 'That actually seems pretty handy.'