The Second Awakening

Puuuk—!

“Gaaaah!!”

A sharp blade plunged into my back. Once. Twice. Three times. Fuck, just stop already.

I’d only awakened less than a day ago. I hadn’t had time to level up. If I’d had even a little more time, these pathetic pieces of shit wouldn’t have stood a chance.

“I knew you’d try to slip out this way. You’re a rat, after all.”

The Shelter Leader smirked, his voice dripping with contempt.

The man who’d treated me like vermin all this time.

“Why… I didn’t do anything wrong…”

“You awakened. That’s reason enough to kill you.”

“You’ve got awakened people under you too. There’s more than just one or two, right? So why me, specifically…”

“If you’re so upset, blame that filthy skill of yours. How dare you set your sights on my paradise, you bastard?”

This was the shelter with the ridiculous name Entrance to Paradise. A place that had been hell for me, ruled by a dictator who happened to have the highest level.

“I fed you. I gave you a place to sleep. And this is how you repay me? If it wasn’t for Gwangtae, we never would’ve known.”

The Shelter Leader’s right-hand man, Gwangtae, stood beside him, sneering like a hyena.

So that was his skill… peeping at other people’s status windows.

“Since you’ve seen it… you already know. This isn’t the kind of ‘slave’ you’re imagining.”

“Shut the fuck up. Who told you to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠explain? Just die quietly. Hey! We don’t have time for this—blow his goddamn head off.”

Something cold pressed against the back of my skull. These bastards. If you’re going to shoot me, why bother with the stabbing?

Bang—!!

A flash of light. Then nothing. My head must have exploded. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as I expected.

Like a revolving lantern, the status window I’d seen last night flickered before my eyes. If only I’d made it out safely, I could have put it to good use.

The status window gradually faded, and everything sank into darkness. This world. Those bastards. Even my own senses…

Choi Suho, a twenty-six-year-old job seeker. After surviving three brutal years in the zombie apocalypse, I awakened only to be murdered ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the very same day.

.

.

.

“Huk!”

When I opened my eyes, I saw a familiar ceiling. Where had I seen this before? It looked like the place I used to live. Wait… that stain in the corner. This was that damn one-room apartment!

I shot upright and looked around. The familiar furniture, the half-drunk can of beer, the monitor still playing porn. It was really my old room.

What the hell? Is this another death flashback?

But every detail was too vivid. There was only one explanation: I had returned to the one-room apartment I used to live in.

I definitely died in the shelter, so if I’m back in my old room… does that mean I regressed?

I remembered the web novels I used to read for fun before the zombie outbreak. It felt like I had suddenly become the protagonist of one of those stories.

So I did everything the characters in those novels did. I pinched my cheek hard. Ran to the bathroom, splashed water on my face, and stared at the mirror. Even slammed my head against the dining table a few times.

“Ow…”

It hurt. This wasn’t a revolving lantern or a dream or an illusion. I sat down on the bed and picked up the phone that had been lying there. The screen lit up.

I really went back in time.

It was three years ago. The day the zombie outbreak began—the day hell started. A date I could never forget even if I tried.

The time read [8:30 AM]. In my previous life, I had overslept, shouted about being late, and rushed out. What I saw in the hallway was my next-door neighbor, already turned into a zombie.

If I opened that door right now, the same zombie would be shuffling around, ready to tear into my throat.

A mix of despair and disbelief left me unable to think straight. I let out a long sigh and sank to the floor.

Even if I went out now, the apocalypse had already begun. Fuck. If you’re going to send me back, at least give ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me a month or two. Why the same damn day?

From now on, I had to survive this hell again.

Last time, I somehow managed to kill one zombie but was so terrified that I couldn’t leave the apartment for three days. Eventually I ran out of food and had to start scavenging.

The one silver lining was that I could awaken. Back then I didn’t know how, so I just stumbled around blindly until I drifted into that shitty shelter and lived like a slave.

Awakened. After the zombie outbreak, people began gaining access to the system. Once awakened, even at Level 1, your physical abilities rose to the level of a professional athlete. Your chances of surviving an encounter with zombies skyrocketed.

If you kept hunting zombies and mutants to raise your level, you could eventually wield several times—sometimes dozens of times—the power of a normal human. With unique skills on top of that, you became a monster no ordinary person could face.

The problem was that no one knew who would awaken or how. The methods were so varied and obscure that it was basically pure coincidence.

I had heard all kinds of awakening stories in the shelter: a pastor who awakened after witnessing the outbreak and cursing God, a thug who broke his neck falling from the second floor only for death to trigger his awakening instead. Every story was bizarre. None of them were the same.

I tried everything I could think of to awaken, but during the two years I spent in that shelter, nothing worked. I eventually gave up, thinking I must be one of the unawakened. Then, the day before I died, I awakened in the most ridiculous way possible.

Who the hell would ever think to try a condition like that?

For now, I need to awaken.

I tried calling up the status window in my mind, but there was no response. I still hadn’t awakened yet.

I stood up slowly and cracked my knuckles. I had to start this hell all over again, but this time my starting option was set to Awakened. The perceived difficulty would drop dramatically.

As time passed, the zombies and mutants would grow stronger, but so would I. I could handle them. And if the skill I received before my regression was the same, things would be even easier.

I grabbed the frying pan next to the gas stove. From the sink, I pulled out the longest kitchen knife I owned. I might not be awakened yet, but I was a survivor who had faced zombies for three years. One zombie? I could lure it inside and take it apart without much trouble.

I cracked the door open just enough for an arm to fit through and peered outside.

“Grrrr…”

My eyes met those of the next-door uncle, now a zombie. The same man who used to smoke at the building entrance and greet me politely.

His eyes were bloodshot crimson. One of them was completely hollow. Blackened teeth dripped with blood. One arm hung loosely, almost ready to fall off, but he didn’t seem to care.

Still as ugly as ever.

It had been three years since I last saw that face, but there was nothing pleasant about seeing it like this.

“Graaaah!!”

It charged at me, shoving its arm through the gap in the door. I had already stepped back, creating distance.

Slice—!!

I brought the knife down and severed the arm at the shoulder. That would have been impossible for me before, but I was now a veteran of three years in the apocalypse.

I opened the door wider, grabbed the severed shoulder, and yanked the creature into the apartment. The momentum of its charge combined with my pull dragged it inside.

“Good boy. Now lie down.”

I shoved its back. It tripped over ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the raised threshold and fell flat on its face. The high threshold I used to curse every day suddenly felt like a blessing.

I pinned down its remaining flailing arm with the knife, then raised the frying pan and began smashing its spine. Zombies wouldn’t stop moving unless their heads were destroyed. Even without legs, they would crawl if they still had arms.

So I cut off both arms and kept hammering the spine until the lower half was useless. What remained was a compact zombie consisting of only its head and torso.

“Haa… haa…”

I was out of breath. Maybe because I hadn’t gone through the real grind yet. Back in the shelter, I could handle a few of them.

“Grrr… Graaaang…!!”

It thrashed wildly, trying to crawl toward me, but without limbs to push off of, it only spun in place. Perfect condition for awakening.

I stretched my arm toward its snapping teeth. Anyone watching would have called me insane.

“Bite. It’s what you like, right?”

It stared at my arm with its empty eye socket, then let out a shriek and sank its teeth into me.

“Guh…”

I clenched my jaw and endured. Right when I felt the flesh tear, I brought the frying pan down on its head with my other hand.

Crunch!

Its skull caved in. I lifted my arm. Clear bite marks remained, along with a chunk of flesh completely ripped away.

Fucking hurts. Did it work?

The torn area began to glow, and new flesh sprouted. It was exactly the same as what I had seen three years later, trembling in a corner outside the shelter walls.

A hot current surged from the depths of my lower abdomen and spread throughout my body. It was the same sensation I had felt before my regression. Since the awakening condition was identical, the skill should be the same too.

If not? Then I’d just have to figure out how to survive again. I had already overcome the biggest hurdle—awakening. Everything else would work out somehow.

Still, I steeled myself and called out the status window in my mind.

“Uwaaaaah—!! Yes! It worked!!”

The same skill that had driven me to my death appeared once again. In my previous life, I had been helpless against it. But now, with a completely different starting point, the next three years would be nothing like before.