Chapter 22: Planning Ahead

Chapter 22: Chapter 22: Planning Ahead

But things didn’t end there.

Taking down the "Weapon Room" sign and putting up the "Warehouse" one seemed to flip a switch in Xu Mo’s mind. If the rules of the "door" allowed for a certain degree of guidance through labels, then why not take that guidance to the extreme? Why stick to a relatively tactful and potentially ambiguous name like "Weapon Room"?

A clear and bold idea formed in Xu Mo’s mind: ’If I’m going to do this, I need to be more direct, more precise!’

With his current abundance of supplies and relatively calm state of mind, it was the perfect time to prepare for deeper, more targeted explorations in the future. Xu Mo was no longer satisfied with a broad concept like "Warehouse." Instead, he set his sights directly on the hard assets that could instantly and dramatically increase his chances of survival and his ability to intimidate.

He got right to work.

Xu Mo once again dug out the various pieces of cardboard, cardstock, and even some brightly colored plastic sheets he had collected. Like a focused craftsman, he began to meticulously create a new series of signs.

This time, he abandoned all vague descriptions, striving for every word to point precisely to his desired target:

Gun Room

Ammunition Storage

Weapon Armory

Equipment Depot

Ordnance

Using the thickest marker and the most conspicuous font, he wrote these words, filled with a sense of power, one by one on the cut boards. Every stroke seemed to carry his longing and imagination for immense firepower. He even carefully drew simple patterns in red ink on the borders of the "Gun Room" and "Ammunition Storage" signs, striving to make them look more "professional" and "realistic."

After finishing, an indescribable sense of satisfaction washed over Xu Mo, as if he already held the keys to unlock one treasure trove after another.

These signs were his "roadmap for future exploration."

He carefully gathered the brand-new signs. Xu Mo’s "sign library" was now taking shape, covering food, medicine, material storage, and, most importantly, weapons and military equipment.

He knew he wouldn’t use all these signs at once. Next time, he would still test the effects of "Warehouse" first. But having these preparations in hand put his mind at ease. No matter what lay behind the "Warehouse" door, he had already prepared all the necessary textual "keys" for any specialized searches he might need later.

It was like a general running pre-war simulations on a sand table, marking out all possible attack routes and resource points in advance. What Xu Mo was doing at this moment was using his limited understanding of the rules to carry out a solitary and meticulous strategic stockpiling for his survival and development in the post-apocalyptic world.

He looked forward to the near future when he could personally affix these powerful words to different doors and knock open the gates to greater strength.

After creating the series of signs pointing directly to military hardware, the brief sense of ease brought on by his ample supplies was gradually replaced by a deeper line of thought. He carefully stored away the signs representing firearms and turned his gaze back to the deathly still town outside the window.

"It’s just... too quiet. And too... safe," Xu Mo muttered to himself.

The zombies had inexplicably vanished, leaving no trace. Although the town’s resources had been scavenged, his "door" ability allowed him to easily obtain a stable supply of food and medicine. There were no conflicts with other survivors, no harassment from mutated monsters. Besides the injuries he inflicted on himself during training, there was almost no real external threat.

’It’s all going so smoothly, it doesn’t even feel like a treacherous apocalypse.’

A thought, like a flash of lightning in the dark, suddenly illuminated his mind:

’This place... it’s like a "Newbie Village" set up just for me!’

The idea sent a chill down his spine. He recalled how battered and weak he was when he first arrived. It was in this very town that he found his initial shelter, obtained basic survival supplies, survived a deadly illness, and even, by a stroke of luck, began cultivating the Thirteen Grand Protectors’ Cross Training. He had gone step by step from the brink of death to recovery, from weakness to strength.

It was all as if arranged by some invisible rule, giving him a relative buffer zone to adapt to this apocalyptic world and accumulate his initial power.

’But what if... this really is just a Newbie Village?’

Xu Mo’s heart couldn’t help but beat faster. If this was just a Newbie Village, it meant that sooner or later, he would have to leave, or some change would make this place no longer safe. When that time came, what he would face would be the truly brutal, dangerous, and unimaginable face of the apocalypse! It could be organized hordes of zombies that had evolved all sorts of bizarre superpowers; it could be other factions of survivors who would stop at nothing to seize resources; it could be even more terrifying and incomprehensible mutated creatures; or it could even be a completely collapsed, radiation-soaked, hostile environment...

When that time came, would his current stockpile of supplies, this Bone-Cutting Knife, and his beginner-level Horizontal Training that hadn’t even reached the Cowhide Realm be enough?

The answer was obviously no.

An intense sense of crisis washed over him like ice water, instantly dispelling all of Xu Mo’s complacency.

’Get stronger! I have to get stronger, faster!’

It was no longer just a goal, but an urgent matter of survival.

Xu Mo suddenly understood why he had been searching for firearms even when his basic needs were met. It was because, deep down, he harbored a sense of unease, a deep-seated fear of the apocalypse.

That night, Xu Mo sank into a deep, exhausted sleep. However, physical rest did not bring mental peace. The daytime thoughts of the "Newbie Village" and his anxiety about unknown future dangers twisted themselves into new forms and invaded his dreams.

In the dream, it seemed not much time had passed. He was still in the familiar room, but the view outside the window was no longer one of dead silence. Instead, it was a scalp-tingling, tidal wave-like scene—countless zombies had surrounded the town, packing it to the brim!

The dream version of him held a black assault rifle, frantically spraying bullets out the window. Muzzle flashes lit up the dark as bullets rained down, tearing swaths of zombies to shreds. But it was useless! There were too many of them, a despair-inducing number. They trampled over the remains of their own, advancing like an endless gray tide. The bullets ran out quickly. He fumbled to change magazines, only to find he had just a few left.

CRASH!

With a loud bang, the door was smashed open, and grotesque faces and rotting arms reached inside. Xu Mo drew his Bone-Cutting Knife and slashed wildly, but more zombies poured in, surrounding him with their cold, putrid stench. A hand with immense strength grabbed his arm, and a foul-smelling mouth lunged viciously for his neck—

"GASP!"

Xu Mo shot up from the sofa, his heart hammering against his ribs and a cold sweat instantly drenching his thin shirt. He gasped for air, his hand instinctively reaching for the Bone-Cutting Knife beside him. Only its cold touch brought him back to his senses.

Outside, the sky was faintly lit. The grayish-blue light of pre-dawn filtered through the window, outlining the familiar shapes of the room. The street was still empty and deathly silent, a world apart from the hellish scene in his dream.

Xu Mo raised a hand and rubbed his face hard, letting out a long, shaky breath.

"It was a dream... just a dream..." he whispered, comforting himself. But the suffocating feeling of being surrounded by an endless horde of zombies, and the despair of his weapons being so pathetically inadequate against their sheer numbers, remained terrifyingly real.

Xu Mo knew this wasn’t a premonition. It was simply his waking anxieties taking shape in his sleep. His deep-seated uncertainty about the future and his anxiety over his own lack of strength had manifested themselves while he slept.

The nightmare, far from frightening him, acted like a bucket of ice water, waking him up completely and strengthening his resolve.

Xu Mo stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the ruins that were gradually becoming clearer in the morning light.

"Firearms... might solve a temporary crisis, but they can’t be my ultimate reliance," Xu Mo murmured. The image of running out of ammunition in his dream was still fresh in his mind. True strength had to come from within. It was as the Thirteen Grand Protectors’ Cross Training described—to cultivate one’s own body into an existence that feared no blade and possessed extraordinary power.

The sky was brightening.

A new day of training was about to begin. This time, Xu Mo’s goal was clearer, and his conviction was purer.

Before the storm truly arrived, he would become the storm.