Chapter 43: I Got A Little Mad
With the claws out and teeth chattering, the zombie cautiously moved towards Fredrinn.
From a slight distance, he quickly swiped at Fredrinn’s hands, but Fredrinn had good enough instincts to dodge the move.
However, he didn’t expect the zombie to adapt so soon.
After getting kicked and thrown down a few times, the zombie had now learnt restraint.
’Quick learning as well...’ Fredrinn made another note.
"You’re a fast learner, but unfortunately for you, I have the reach advantage." Fredrinn mocked the zombie, before flicking his wrist and swinging his sword in a gentle arc.
The blade sliced through the outer skin layer of the zombie’s hand with ease, but when it reached the bones, the momentum slowed down significantly.
The bone was cut half way through before the momentum was killed and the blade got stuck into the zombie’s bone.
Instantly, the zombie growled louder and moved towards Fredrinn, performing a swipe at Fredrinn’s hand that held the sword.
"Fuck!" Fredrinn let go of his sword, moving back to dodge the attack.
"Ke ke." Suddenly, a low giggle slipped out of the zombie’s lips seeing Fredrinn’s reaction.
He looked at the sword stuck to his forearm, before grabbing the blade with his other hand. He wrenched out the sword, holding it from the sharpened side before clenching his hands tightly.
The blade was snapped cleanly from the middle, two pieces clanged onto the floor.
Fredrinn’s eyes went cold. Even though the sword wasn’t actually a family heirloom or something important for him, it was his only belonging that he managed to bring back from Apolasia.
So, there were some emotional connections even though he would never admit so himself.
After seeing the sword getting broken unceremoniously, Fredrinn felt his rage bubble.
[ <LUST> feels interested in the host’s first difficult battle. ]
[ <LUST> has issued a quest. ]
[ Requirement: Kill the Stage 3 zombie in front of you. ]
Reward: 200 LP
Time Limit: 5 Minutes ]
[ <LUST> wishes best of luck. ]
Fredrinn glanced at the quest and scoffed. He planned to do that anyway, the 200 LP was only a bonus gain for him.
The stage 3 zombie was still cackling. His wounds leaked blood, but the undead couldn’t care less.
He used his uninjured hand to repeatedly swipe his claw at Fredrinn, while Fredrinn continued to dodge.
They were both in a sort of deadlock, but if the zombie thought that the sword was all Fredrinn had, he was in for a surprise.
Fredrinn pulled out the pistol, shooting the zombie at a point blank range.
He staggered a step, and Fredrinn didn’t miss the opportunity, as he closed the distance and landed a brutal kick right into the zombie’s chest.
Not only that, he also grabbed the arm that was slashed by his sword earlier.
"This is for breaking my sword, bastard." Fredrinn said with a cruel grin, pressing the nozzle of the gun right at the wound as he pulled the trigger two times.
The bullet flew out of the barrel, shattering the already damaged bone as the zombie fell backwards in shock.
He looked at his side, noticing that his own arm was already ripped out of his body and was now in Fredrinn’s hands, dripping with blood with flesh clinging on for dear life.
Fredrinn glanced at his winning reward before frowning in disgust.
"It’s too ugly, you can have it back." He said, aiming the hand’s claws directly at the zombie before leaning down and driving the claw through the zombie’s head.
The hardened claw struggled to break through the sturdy skull of the zombie’s head, who now began to retaliate.
But Fredrinn was having none of it.
He pressed his gun on the skull and shot out three more bullets, weakening the skull even further as the blood erupted and the zombie’s own claw was driven into his skull.
[ <LUST> is pleased with host’s brutality. ]
[ Awarded 200 LP ]
’If you’re so pleased then give me a bonus, you miser.’ Fredrinn said in his mind, standing up from the zombie’s corpse before frowning at the amount of blood that was clinging onto his clothes.
He didn’t like to wear dirty clothes.
[ <LUST> is thinking. ]
[ <LUST> promises the host to reward him 1000 LP if the host repeats that feat with a beautiful woman on a bed. ]
’Are you for real?’ Fredrinn felt speechless.
There was no way that Lust was talking about... this, right?
He glanced at the awful condition of the stage 3 zombie’s corpse. A ripped hand was sticking out of his skull, blood was flowing endlessly along with the burnt and rotten stench of flesh.
Jenny had witnessed the whole fight while assisting other humans to survive, and she felt as if she had seen a completely new side of Fredrinn yet again...
Drenched in blood and yet having a cold expression on his face...
It made her curious to find out what he used to do before this apocalypse arrived.
He must have been in an army of some sort, no? A boogeyman? Maybe an assassin?
His temperament matched with the image of assassin that Jenny had in her mind, but after looking at the brutality of his actions, she ruled that possibility out.
There was no way that a violent man like him could be an assassin.
Berserker might suit him more, though he was too cold to scream during fights and lose his mind over everything.
While she was daydreaming, she broke out of her daze and glanced at the approaching Fredrinn.
Seeing her speechless and slightly worried expression, Fredrinn thought she was feeling off about the brutal kill.
"He broke my sword. It was a family heirloom, so I got a little mad." He offered a small explanation for his actions.
"That was you getting a ’little’ mad?" Jenny blinked incredulously. "I would rather not find out what happens when you get actually mad then."
Fredrinn chuckled at her reaction, "Don’t worry, I am not that easy to trigger. I try to keep my calm."
[ <LUST> calls host a liar. It claims that host is pretty easy to trigger and cannot keep his calm at all. ]
’For you? Yeah. I swear, don’t let me find you in real life or you won’t like what happens at all.’
[ <LUST> feels honoured that host has a special place for Lust in his heart. ]
[ <LUST> feels touched by host’s affection. ]
[ Rewarded 1 LP ]
’Only 1 LP and you claim that you’re touched by my affection? What bullshit.’
[ <LUST> regretfully shares that even 1 LP is too much for the host’s affection. But since there is no option to pay in decimals, it benevolently grants 1 LP. ]
Once again, Fredrinn had to take several deep breaths to calm himself down.