Chapter 7: Eye of Reconnaissance
1075 Words
The male zombie’s corpse collapsed with a dull thud. From beneath its twitching body, a faint cyan glow shimmered.
A drop.
Lin Ziluo recognized the color immediately. Bronze-tier item.
But he didn’t move to check it.
Because at that very moment, the naked female zombie lunged toward him, shrieking.
Good grief, she’s fast! he cursed silently. Her movements were vicious, her pale flesh swaying violently—two grotesque, already-corrupted “gray rabbits” bouncing wildly with every step.
Damn it, shouldn’t have called for Technician No. 3…
Even though his eyes were inevitably drawn for half a second, his dagger hand did not falter.
Cold steel flashed.
The blade stabbed clean into the zombie woman’s neck.
Unlike their male counterparts, female zombies were usually faster, sharper, more agile… but their constitution was much weaker.
One precise strike, and the word [DEATH] burned across his vision.
She dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.
And then, beside her body, another cyan glow appeared.
Lin Ziluo froze.
“…Two?”
A grin spread across his face.
Double loot. Jackpot!
He bent down and scooped them up. Two identical small cylindrical items. His heart gave a jolt of recognition.
[Item Acquired: Eye of Reconnaissance (Bronze – Consumable)]
Effect: Detects all movement within a 10-meter radius. Alerts the user if anything approaches. Duration: 10 hours.
Lin Ziluo chuckled. An old friend.
In his previous life, he’d relied on this very item to survive countless assassination attempts by the Li family and Yao Jinghan’s dogs. Whenever exhaustion forced him to rest, he would burn one of these, finally able to sleep without fearing a dagger at his throat.
The problem was—they were so damn rare that no one ever sold them.
Now? He had two sitting in his pocket.
Bronze-tier or not, the sense of security they provided was priceless.
No, forget it. Tonight, I’ll splurge. I’ll use one.
For the first time since his rebirth, Lin Ziluo smirked with something close to arrogance. So this is what they mean by “revenge spending.”
But his thoughts were cut short.
Thump, thump, thump.
Heavy footsteps echoed up the staircase.
A coarse voice shouted angrily:
“Who the hell’s making such a racket up there?! Bastard, you wanna die? If you’re gonna play, then play quietly!”
The motel owner.
He’d finally woken up.
Lin Ziluo stepped out of Room 206, into the dim hallway.
The balding man stomped up to the landing, his face red with fury. His eyes immediately locked on Lin Ziluo.
“You little s**t,” he spat, pointing a thick finger. “Making a mess in my place without even paying up. Today you’re not walking out of here unless you kneel and call me grandpa!”
His lip curled in a sneer. “Actually… you look pretty clean. Bet your mama’s a real beauty, huh? Why don’t you bring her here to work off your debt? Then maybe I’ll let you live.”
And with that, he swung a meaty fist at Lin Ziluo’s head.
But Lin Ziluo only sighed.
A pity. He’d been in a good mood—he’d even considered letting this fool live.
Now? Too late.
His dagger gleamed as he stepped forward.
The motel owner’s fist froze in mid-air. His body stiffened.
Because the instant Lin Ziluo let his killing intent bleed out, the corridor seemed to darken.
A suffocating aura pressed down on the man’s chest, so heavy it felt like drowning. His legs trembled uncontrollably. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.
That was no aura. That was murder.
The distilled essence of killing tens of thousands of lives in Lin Ziluo’s previous life.
One step. Two steps.
The man’s eyes bulged as Lin Ziluo stood before him.
The dagger flashed once.
A head rolled across the blood-stained floor.
Lin Ziluo didn’t even glance at the corpse.
The apocalypse was never about reason. It was about strength.
Kill or be killed. That was all.
And in his past life, he had killed so many that even he’d lost count.
Funny, wasn’t it? The very same man once branded a butcher had later been paraded as the “Guardian God of the Dragon Nation.”
What a joke.
…
He wiped his blade clean and turned toward the next rooms. One by one, he knocked.
205. Silence.
206. Nothing.
207. Empty.
Damn. This place is too quiet.
Finally, when he knocked on 202, a guttural growl answered him from within.
Lin Ziluo’s eyes lit up.
Finally… an old friend.
He kicked the door open.
A zombie lunged—only to be cut down in a single, efficient strike.
[Loot Acquired: Item – Flying Moutai (Bronze, Consumable, Alcoholic Beverage)]
Lin Ziluo blinked, then laughed aloud.
“Good brother! You even brought me a bottle of Moutai? You’re the best old friend I’ve ever had!”
He gave the corpse a thumbs up.
By the time he cleared Room 201, the entire second floor was silent. Not a single undead left standing.
Lin Ziluo stretched lazily.
This would do for tonight.
The bloodstains, the corpses scattered across the floor—he didn’t even spare them a glance. Back in his fugitive days, he’d used piles of rotting zombie corpses as blankets, both for warmth and concealment.
Worked like a charm.
Another reason he chose this motel: narrow hallways. Poor ventilation. Not exactly comfortable, but the perfect place to defend.
Even if a horde came, they’d be forced to fight him one at a time.
The only real disappointment? Too few zombies.
So far, he’d only earned 4 experience points. Six more to reach level 3.
The clock read 7:40.
Twenty minutes until 8:00.
If he wanted to hit level 3 before then, he’d need at least six more kills.
He dashed downstairs.
The lobby was silent. The same dusty bar counter stood at the entrance.
Lin Ziluo’s gaze sharpened.
This motel had three “technicians.” He’d only killed two.
That meant there was one left.
He raised his hammer and rapped it against the counter. Clang, clang, clang.
Noise echoed through the lobby.
A moment later, faint shuffling came from behind the bar curtain.
Lin Ziluo stepped inside. Pulled the curtain aside.
No one.
He held his breath, listening carefully.
Then his eyes dropped to the floor.
There. A wooden plank.
Something shifted beneath it.
Lin Ziluo smirked.
“Well, well… hiding underground, are we?”
- Writer
