Chapter 7 – The Night Before the Apocalypse
Above the living room, rows of chickens, ducks, and geese hung drying in the wind. Strings of sausages and cured meats dangled like banners, covering the place wall to wall…
From days of constant drilling noises to the current days filled with the aroma of cooking, the change in atmosphere on the sixteenth floor was a bit abrupt.
A few renovation workers on the fourteenth floor leaned against the balcony, sniffing the smells.
One said, “Yesterday it was flatbreads. What’s cooking today?”
“Fried rice crust! My grandma makes it—it’s way better than the stuff sold in supermarkets.”
“What do you think that family does? Why are they cooking every day lately?”
“Maybe they’re selling boxed meals?”
“Who needs fried rice crust for boxed meals?”
“And I haven’t smelled any stir-fried dishes either.”
“What do you mean? Didn’t you smell some yesterday?”
“Yeah, but that was around five-thirty in the evening—clearly they were just making dinner.”
Happily lifting out the last golden piece of fried rice crust to drain, Luo Xun declared today’s task complete!
Looking at how nearly half of his bulk rice and flour had already been used up, he felt satisfied. Bulk grains were hard to store, especially with all the plants and dug-up soil in the house. If insects got in, it would be a disaster. So he had decided—anything that could be processed in advance should be processed right away.
The kitchen had only a gas stove, no exhaust hood. Instead, Luo Xun had installed a ventilation fan. Energy was always precious, especially in the apocalypse. Other than essentials, he would never waste electricity.
For example, the three freezers in his living room—one upright bar fridge and two chest freezers—all brand-new, high-capacity, energy-saving models. Only one was currently running, packed full of all kinds of meats he’d bought from supermarkets and markets in the past few days.
All the light bulbs in the house had been replaced with energy-saving ones. He had also stockpiled a mountain of candles, plus alcohol and other essentials.
When he returned to the living room, the little pup was already awake. Seeing Luo Xun, it wagged its tail joyfully, waddling over to his leg, begging to be picked up and tossed high.
Scooping it into his arms, Luo Xun massaged its little chin while flopping down onto the sofa to catch his breath.
He smelled strongly of cooking oil and smoke, but he was too exhausted to bother changing clothes. After all, it was just him and the pup at home—he wouldn’t mind himself, and the pup certainly wouldn’t complain. So why not be lazy for once?
He raised his head and tapped twice on the fish tank by the sofa. Inside were a few fish, and in another tank a few shrimp. These weren’t ornamental fish or shrimp, but ones he had casually picked up at the market. They were tiny, and Luo Xun wasn’t sure if they could even survive, but since they were alive and cheap, he just brought them home.
The fish and shrimp were so small he couldn’t even tell the species. By the second day, half of them had already died, and the rest followed one after another. Now, only four fish and three shrimp were left.
On the windowsill of the balcony sat a small modified glass tank, where he kept eight quails. For those little ancestors, Luo Xun had even bought some mealworms at the market and was raising them in another glass tank. Those were easy enough to keep alive—just some soil and vegetable leaves were enough. All for the sake of those quail eggs that he had no idea when would finally be laid. Luo Xun felt he was putting in quite a lot of effort.
Glancing around the room, then looking up at the sausages and chickens hanging overhead, Luo Xun pulled out his phone and aimlessly surfed the internet.
He still had 2,080 yuan in cash. On the last day before the apocalypse, Luo Xun planned to go out and buy a pile of ready-made snacks and takeout. As for these in-between days… other than making rations and playing with his little creatures, there really wasn’t much to do.
In less than ten days, the world would change drastically. Countless people would die in the coming catastrophe…
His fingers, almost without thinking, typed in the words “apocalypse.” Luo Xun’s gaze settled on one of the search results.
On November 22nd, a post titled “Otaku Teaches You How to Survive the Apocalypse” appeared on a certain forum.
The uploader was very dedicated, starting with well-known safety measures, then teaching how to modify household items to obtain clean water, how to use existing food and odds and ends at home to grow plants, and more. It attracted a huge number of lurkers.
Because it was live-updated, and the uploader would add things whenever new ideas came to mind, the readers had great fun following along.
Moreover, since the post contained no prophecy, no rumor-spreading, no hidden hints to buy certain products, but instead only practical DIY survival methods using everyday items, the moderators pinned it to the top.
After all, many of the suggestions used things people already had at home. Even if most didn’t believe in any “end of the world,” sprouting beans, growing garlic, or raising cucumbers and tomatoes at home didn’t sound bad. Even if you didn’t eat them, you could keep them by your computer as greenery to help with radiation!
Home planting had already quietly become popular in modern society, since food outside was increasingly unsanitary and unsafe. Many leisure-loving housewives had become the first fans of it. Now that it was linked with “apocalypse,” even otakus found their interest piqued.
After many inquiries to the uploader, the post was widely reposted and caught the attention of experienced home growers.
Watching the thread pile higher and higher, Luo Xun felt a faint regret. Was this post made too late? If it had been earlier… maybe it could’ve helped more people.
No, not too late…
After finishing up today’s thoughts and posting them, Luo Xun sighed and scratched the little fellow sleeping belly-up on his chest. Anyone interested in the topic would naturally experiment a little and make some preparations based on his post.
Those who weren’t interested probably wouldn’t act even if someone told them tomorrow was the end of the world.
After all, without experiencing it themselves, no one would believe rumors. Even Luo Xun himself, though he knew the date of the apocalypse, still preferred to think of his memories of the past life as nothing more than a dream—at least until November 28th arrived.
He took one last look at the time on his phone. It was already 11 p.m., November 26th. Tomorrow, he would go out one last time. The day after… the apocalypse would begin.
8 p.m. on November 27th—that was when the uploader had said they would make one final post.
Many lurkers had already logged in early, refreshing with F5 every few minutes, waiting to see what new tips the otaku would share. In the past few days, many had tried planting crops at home with whatever they had on hand. Some particularly hardcore doers had even cobbled together full distillation rigs.
For most, it was the first time since school science labs that they had ever tried hands-on experiments.
At exactly 8 p.m., a new comment appeared. Many rushed to grab a spot in the thread before even reading the content, then scrolled back up to read carefully.
What they read left them utterly shocked.
Useless Otaku:
Today is my final post in this thread. After midnight on November 27th—that is, November 28th—the apocalypse will arrive.
My advice: If you share your home with others, try to arrange it so each person has their own room and keep the door closed. Zombies cannot open doors on their own.
If you have pets, it’s best to lock them in cages or separate rooms. Once zombified, their lethality will far exceed what you can imagine.
To everyone reading this, please store tap water as soon as possible. I cannot guarantee when the water supply will become contaminated. It takes little effort, just treat it as if there will be a nationwide water outage tomorrow.
Other precautions have already been explained in this thread. Even without the mentioned supplies, medicine, or food, using these emergency measures should help you hold out until rescue teams arrive.
Believe me, they will come—because this is our shared home.
P.S.: I truly hope this prophecy fails. And that tomorrow, I can see you all again safe and sound.
The new post left everyone stunned at first, then filled with a strange sense of “just as expected.”
Some had speculated earlier that maybe the uploader was just pulling the old trick of luring people in with useful content and then dropping a “doomsday bomb” at the end. Tricks like that were common online, especially in apocalypse and prophecy forums.
Because of this, the fact that the uploader had been patiently teaching everyone all sorts of practical things earlier only made the clever ones even more suspicious. In contrast, this final reply felt more like what they had expected—ah, so it was just a bait post after all. No surprise.
Thus, after a short discussion, the sharp-eyed moderators deleted that latest reply at 8:21 p.m.
*
November 28th, 00:00.
The sky quietly shifted into a dark red hue, but hardly anyone noticed. Even those who did see the crimson tint didn’t think much of it; in the city night such colors weren’t that unusual, so most people didn’t spread the word.
Luo Xun stood by his bedroom window. Downstairs, the little fellow was locked in a cage and asleep in the arms of the big fluffy dog. The few fish and shrimp were each placed separately in plastic bottles.
The quail chicks too were separated, each one placed in half of a cut plastic bottle.
The mealworms and earthworms were likewise all kept apart. Even the flowerpots and racks on the balcony had been moved to a safe distance from each other.
Tonight… the same crimson sky, the same suffocating atmosphere…
Gradually, specks of dark green light appeared in the red sky, drifting down in all directions like falling snowflakes.
Luo Xun gazed at the sky in a daze, then quietly walked to his bed and lay down.
In his previous life, he hadn’t turned into a zombie, nor had he gained any powers.
Now, he had no hopes for powers either—he just wished that when he woke up, he wouldn’t be a zombie.
