Doomsday Innkeeper

Doomsday Innkeeper CH.3

Jiang Rong chose not to convert the crystal core before fully understanding the system. He held onto the counter for a full half-minute, catching his ragged breath, before finally pulling out the blood-slicked crowbar.

Outside, the zombies were still relentlessly banging on the metal roller shutter door, trying to force their way into the lobby. Yet, whenever they slammed against the metal panel, they were violently overturned by an invisible force. Even the deep dents left by their impacts healed within seconds, the metal smoothing itself out automatically.

But even after seeing this miracle, Jiang Rong did not completely relax his tensed nerves. His sharp, analytical mind immediately picked up on a lethal loophole: the system's protection only stopped the monsters outside. It did absolutely nothing to neutralize a threat that had already managed to cross the threshold before the lockdown, like the one he had just killed with his own hands.

If he had reacted a fraction of a second slower, or if the crowbar hadn't been left within arm's reach behind the counter, he would still be a corpse right now. The system would have stood by and let him die without intervening.

Jiang Rong clenched his numbed, trembling fingers. He looked himself up and down, realizing he had to figure out how this system operated, and he had to do it fast. Although the agonizing heat in his body had lessened considerably, the system hadn’t fully healed him; his left eye was still swollen shut, fresh blood slowly trickled down his forehead, and his broken ribs still ached dully with every breath.

"Not bad," he muttered under his breath, a cold smirk touching his lips.

His strength and reflexes had clearly improved, but his body hadn't suddenly turned into invulnerable iron. He was still entirely mortal.

Looking down, his eye caught a faint, grayish-white light blinking within the zombie's ruptured eye socket. Squatting down, Jiang Rong used the tip of the crowbar to ruthlessly pry apart the fractured skull bones. He reached into the gore and pulled out an irregular, crystalline object about the size of a finger joint, still dripping with foul, black blood.

The moment his fingers clamped around it, a faint glow erupted. The mangled zombie corpse, along with the pool of putrid black blood on the floorboards, quickly dissolved into thin air. Within seconds, the tiles underneath were pristine, completely scrubbed clean of any trace of the struggle.

The system interface flashed in his mind, confirming that this was a crystal core—the universal currency that could be exchanged for the crystal coins he needed to manage, restock, and upgrade his hotel.

But Jiang Rong wasn't in a hurry to exchange it, let alone study its properties at this exact moment. He carefully slid the cold crystal into his shirt pocket, patting the fabric to keep it close, fiercely protective of his first real asset in this new world.

What he needed to do now was treat his injuries first. Looking toward the hotel restaurant and noticing the striking changes there, Jiang Rong walked inside step by step. He tried the taps, and water gushed out immediately, making him ecstatic. The stream was crystal clear, splashing into the sink without the slightest odor, and it showed no signs of stopping.

Jiang Rong immediately washed the blood off his face, then walked out toward the stairway. Holding onto the handrail for support, he climbed up to the second floor one painful step at a time. Five guest rooms were arranged neatly on both sides of the corridor, numbered from 201 to 205. Looking toward the very end of the hall, he noticed a door that had never been there before.

The sign on it read two words: Innkeeper’s Room. As Jiang Rong walked closer, the door automatically recognized him as the owner and unlocked. Pushing it open, he was astounded by the interior.

The bedroom, bathroom, and small study were simply but cleanly furnished. Inside the bathroom mirror cabinet sat a basic first-aid kit containing disinfectant, gauze, bandages, and traction wraps. Although there were no oral medications or advanced treatment equipment available, this alone was already a massive blessing. Jiang Rong took off his blood-stained shirt and slowly treated his wounds in front of the mirror.

The gash on his forehead looked like it needed a few stitches, but for now, he could only apply pressure to stop the bleeding. His ribs were heavily swollen and ached dully, but thankfully he wasn't coughing up blood anymore, meaning he wouldn't drop dead anytime soon.

Although the sharpest pain had lessened, the process of tightly bandaging his own torso still broke him out in a cold sweat. It took him a grueling half hour to dress all his wounds. Changing into clean clothes, he returned to the first floor and headed straight back to the restaurant to closely examine what he had missed earlier.

The restaurant's original kitchen was completely gone, replaced by a sleek ordering screen and a closed food delivery window. Four basic meals were displayed on the screen:

Automated Restaurant Menu:

• Basic Porridge and Egg Set Meal – 2 Coins

• Tomato and Egg Noodles – 2 Coins

• Potato and Minced Meat Rice Bowl – 3 Coins

• Egg Fried Rice – 3 Coins

In the upper right corner of the screen, a line of small print read: Today's free portions for the owner: 3/3.

Jiang Rong read every word carefully and selected the porridge and egg set meal. A few seconds later, the delivery window slid open, revealing a steaming hot bowl of porridge, a boiled egg, and a small dish of pickled vegetables arranged neatly on a tray. He hadn't needed to provide the ingredients, let alone a chef, and there had certainly never been such high-tech infrastructure in his hotel before. Stunned as he was, he obediently took the tray and sat down by the window. Only when he raised the first spoonful to his mouth did he realize his hand was trembling violently.

What had terrified him the most since the outbreak wasn't the grotesque appearance of the zombies; it was the gnawing pain of hunger and the absolute uncertainty of the future. For the first ten days, he had prioritized sending every scrap of edible food to Maple Village while he himself survived on a few bites of leftovers a day. In the end, his goodwill had been repaid with his own blood.

Jiang Rong quickly finished the meal, deliberately burying the past. As warmth flooded his stomach, the remaining tenderness in his gaze gradually vanished, replaced by a freezing coldness.

Just as he made his way back toward the stairs, his ears caught a faint rustle coming from the direction of the back door. His body tensed instantly, his right hand tightly gripping the crowbar he refused to discard. He stood frozen, waiting for a few seconds, but the expected sound of heavy footsteps never came. Silence reclaimed the air. Reasoning it was likely just the broken chains finally slipping off the door handles to the floor, he relaxed his taut nerves slightly.

He walked over one last time to test the crowbar against the frame. After confirming that the door was completely jammed and could no longer be pried open from the outside, he walked back to the front hall.

He stood listening to the mindless thudding of the zombies continuously hitting the roller shutters from outside. Despite the horde blocking his only front exit, he didn't feel a shred of panic. In fact, he preferred the zombies over people. At the very least, the zombies wouldn't call him "Boss Jiang" while trying to placate him with empty words like 'everyone has their own difficulties,' only to stab him in the back later.

That's enough, he thought. The past was dead. From now on, he would live solely for himself and never repeat the foolish mistake of showing sympathy in this wasteland. If anyone came knocking on his door again, he wouldn't give them a single scrap just because of a few pitiful words, let alone risk his life to play the hero.

He reached into his chest pocket, feeling the cold weight of the crystal core. Pulling it out onto his palm, he watched it gleam faintly under the clean electric light. The hotel could keep out zombies, provide bottomless clean water, and materialize hot meals out of thin air, but it all operated on a strict, transactional logic. If the ungrateful crowd from the survival base wanted a sliver of safety, they would have to pay the market price. The era of free handouts was officially over.