Survivor System: From Weak To Overlord

Chapter 4. Rebirth

Wilson opened his eyes slowly. For a moment, he couldn’t move. His head felt heavy, his body sore, and the smell of burned metal filled his nose. 

Sparks still danced around him from torn wires, blue and wild like angry snakes. He blinked several times. “I’m… alive?”

The memory rushed back, the crash, the light, the pain, and then nothing. He pushed himself off the floor, groaning as his muscles protested. 

Around him, the room was dark except for the faint flicker of damaged bulbs and the hum of electric current.

His eyes caught a sign above one of the power boxes. “1 MEGAWATT: HIGH VOLTAGE.”

Wilson froze. “One… megawatt?” he whispered. “There’s no way I should still be alive.”

He looked down at his trembling hands. His fingertips were blackened slightly, but his skin wasn’t burned. No blood. No wounds. Just a strange warmth spreading through his veins.

The axe was still beside him, its blade reflecting the dim light. He picked it up, the wooden handle familiar and comforting in his grip. 

His head still throbbed like he had a hangover. “What happened to me?” he murmured, trying to steady his breathing.

Then he remembered something else, a voice. A calm, feminine voice that had spoken just before everything went black. It said something about a system.

“Who was that?” he muttered, glancing around the empty room. “Was someone here?”

Silence. Only the sound of electricity crackling. Wilson walked toward the door. His steps echoed softly. He pushed it open, the hinges creaking loudly.

Outside, the hallway was eerily quiet. No screams. No groans. No zombies. The stench of blood and decay still lingered in the air, but the corridor looked abandoned. He tightened his grip on the axe and took a cautious step forward.

Then he saw them, five zombies standing in the middle of the hall. They were stiff, unmoving, their skin gray and cracked. 

Their eyes were open, but they didn’t react. Wilson’s pulse quickened. Why aren’t they moving?

He crouched low, trying to sneak past them. The hallway seemed to stretch forever, each step heavier than the last. Sweat ran down his neck. 

“If I make one wrong move,” he whispered, “I’m dead.”

But then, as if fate were mocking him, the axe slipped from his sweaty hands. CLANG! It hit the floor, echoing like a thunderclap.

The zombies twitched. Their heads snapped in his direction. Then they roared.

Wilson’s heart jumped into his throat. He stumbled backward, ready to run, but his body moved differently, lighter, faster. 

When the first zombie lunged, Wilson sidestepped instinctively. The movement felt natural, like he had done it a thousand times before.

Before he could think, he swung the axe. The blade sliced clean through a zombie’s skull. 

Another came from the side, and his body reacted again, ducking, spinning, striking. He didn’t even feel tired.

Within seconds, two were down. The other three charged, snarling and snapping. Wilson dropped the axe and punched the nearest one. 

To his shock, the zombie’s chest crushed under his fist like paper. He turned, grabbed another by the throat, and slammed it into the wall, breaking its neck. 

The last one tried to bite him, but he twisted behind it and kicked it hard. Bones cracked. Silence.

Five zombies lay on the floor, lifeless again. Wilson stood there, chest rising and falling, his hands shaking. “What… What in the world just happened?”

He looked at the axe again. It wasn’t glowing. It wasn’t special. It was just an old tool. “It’s not the axe,” he muttered. “It’s me.”

Then, [System Host Level Up. Strength Status Leveled Up.]

The voice echoed inside his mind. It wasn’t from outside. It was inside his head. Wilson dropped the axe, clutching his temple. “Who are you?! What is that voice?!”

[I am the voice of the system you control.]

His eyes widened. “System? Control? What are you talking about?”

[You are the host of the Slayer System. You unlocked it through a catalyst, your contact with the electric current, and your unwillingness to die.]

He took a shaky step back. “Unwillingness to die.” 

The memory of clinging to life, refusing to give in, burned in his chest. Maybe that was it. Maybe that’s what awakened… this. “So I’m… connected to something now?”

[Correct. You are now beyond normal human standards. Each zombie you eliminate grants you strength, speed, and skill. You will grow stronger by surviving and fighting.]

Wilson felt a strange thrill in his chest. “Wait, so the more I kill, the stronger I get?”

[Affirmative. Current status: Level One – Title: Amateur Zombie Slayer. Strength and speed enhanced beyond human limits.]

Wilson blinked. “Amateur Zombie Slayer?” He couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Well… I’ll take it.”

For the first time since the apocalypse began, he felt hope. Maybe he didn’t have to die like the others. Maybe he could fight back.

He raised the axe again, testing his grip. The world around him suddenly felt different, clearer, sharper, alive. 

He could hear faint footsteps from far down the corridor, smell the iron in the air, even sense movement beyond the walls.

“HELP! PLEASE, SOMEONE!” The cry came from above. A woman’s voice, trembling and desperate.

Wilson froze. “There are still people alive…” he whispered.

[Host mission update: Rescue survivors. Optional reward – Experience Points +100.]

Wilson grinned. “Looks like I’ve got my first quest.”

He looked at the bloodied hallway one last time, then tightened his grip on the axe. “Hang on,” he muttered. “I’m coming.”

And without hesitation, he ran toward the sound, his footsteps echoing through the building, faster than they had ever been before.

But as he reached the stairwell, he stopped. The lights above flickered once… twice… then went out completely. From the darkness, something growled. A deep, heavy, unnatural growl.

Wilson’s breath hitched. “That’s… not a zombie.” Then glowing red eyes appeared in the dark.