He Stole My God-Tier Power, I Killed Him With Trash Skill

The heavy steel tongue of the security door sprang into the keyhole with a muffled thud.

The sound was like a rusty, dull saw, cutting off the last remaining light source in the corridor.

"I'm sorry, my dear brother."

Derek's voice came through the heavy metal door, carrying an undisguised excitement and urgency.

"In my past life, you always stood in front of me. In this life, I'll accept those two life-saving marks."

The shadow under the door crack flickered; it was the sound of his footsteps as he hurriedly retreated.

The burning sensation on the back of my hand still reminded me that less than ten minutes had passed since we were both reborn back to before the zombie outbreak. Derek had seized the initiative.

He preemptively bound himself to the two high-level abilities "Flame" and "Hardening," then casually pushed me into the blood-stained corridor outside the door and locked the security door that we had reinforced together.

The motion-activated light at the end of the corridor flickered twice before dimming amidst the hissing sound of a faulty connection.

The strong smell of rust mixed with the stench of ruptured internal organs filled my nostrils through the old ventilation vents.

From the shadowy corner, three twisted figures dragged their mangled limbs, inching their way towards this place. The soles of their shoes scraped against the slimy tiles, producing a sickening screech.

They were attracted by the scent of fresh flesh and blood.

Derek, inside the door, is probably peering through the peephole, waiting to see me torn to pieces.

I lowered my head, my gaze falling on the back of my left hand. There were two dark gray marks there, the leftovers that the system had automatically assigned to me after Derek had picked them out.

“Tracking” and “Preset”.

In Derek's eyes, these two skills, which had no direct lethality, were practically worthless in the early days of the apocalypse. He enjoyed the destructive power of fire and was fascinated by the sense of security that hardening provided.

I didn't reach out to knock on the tightly closed iron gate. Instead, I drew the outdoor hunting knife hanging at my waist. The heavy feel of the handle calmed the slight sweat on my palms.

Five meters to the right is a closed glass window of a fire escape.

The three mutants had locked onto my location. They hissed and sped up, their throats gurgling. I was too close; trying to force my way in and smash the window would only result in them pouncing on me.

I stared at the window, gripped my hunting knife, and, in the empty air before me, simulated a full-force slash.

The blade sliced through the air with a short, sharp whistling sound. The dark gray mark on the back of my hand felt slightly warm.

I set an invisible timer in my mind: ten seconds.

Action recording complete.

ten.

The lead mutant had already lunged two steps away, half of its cheek skin hanging down its chin, its dark red nails aimed straight at my face.

Nine.

I lowered my center of gravity, my toes digging into the slippery tiles, and my body slid half a body length to the left. A stench of blood brushed past my ear, and a few drops of murky liquid splashed onto my collar.

eight.

The mutant missed its target and crashed heavily into the security door, causing it to tremble violently. From inside the door came the sound of Derek retreating in a slightly panicked manner.

seven.

The second and third ones surged forward, flanking them. The narrow corridor offered almost no room to maneuver, and the walls were covered with bloody handprints left by someone unknown.

six.

I held my breath, my back pressed against the cold wall, watching those grayish-white hands scratching haphazardly in front of me.

five.

A mutated creature's finger hooked onto my coat zipper, and the immense pulling force made me stumble.

Four.

The back of the hunting knife swung upwards to parry, breaking open the withered wrist. The sensation of bone shattering traveled from the hilt to the palm.

three.

The three mutants readjusted their positions, trapping me tightly in the corner. They opened their jaws, which were covered in bits of flesh, preparing for a final bite.

two.

I looked at their cloudy eyes so close to mine, and even my breathing slowed down.

one.

The countdown resets to zero.

Five meters to the right, in the fire lane, the air twisted for a moment without warning.

The "slashing" motion I just recorded, carrying my full power, struck the bulletproof glass with precision.

"Bang—crash!"

A tremendous shattering sound erupted in the enclosed corridor, sending countless shards of glass flying out like a torrential downpour.

The sudden loud noise instantly cut off the mutants' attention from me. Their sluggish nervous systems couldn't process such multiple stimuli, and they instinctively turned their heads and dragged themselves toward the source of the sound.

A fatal gap has appeared in the encirclement.

I didn't waste a single second that I had risked my life for. I pressed my hands against the wall for leverage and squeezed through the gap between the two mutants.

My clothes were torn, but I had already reached the broken window frame. I grabbed the dusty windowsill with both hands and jumped.

A feeling of weightlessness instantly enveloped my entire body.

The rough fire ladder slid across my half-finger gloved palm, bringing a burning, stinging pain. I slid down to the bottom of the dark alley, my military boots slamming heavily onto the waterlogged asphalt, splashing up a ring of murky water.

I bent my knees slightly to absorb the impact, and rolled forward, disappearing into the shadows deep within the alley.

Screams echoed from the distant streets; the city was rapidly losing its order.

I lowered my footsteps and walked through two smelly backstreets to a secluded underground parking lot.

A dark gray Ford pickup truck was parked quietly in the corner. I had already replaced the front bumper with a robust manganese steel crash barrier, and the chassis had also been raised.

The moment I opened the car door and sat in the driver's seat, the familiar smell of leather made my tense muscles relax a little.

I sheathed the hunting knife back into my tactical belt and closed my eyes. The second mark on the back of my left hand began to heat up.

"Tracking", activated.

In the darkness, an invisible city map rapidly unfolded. A bright red dot flashed in the northwest corner of the map, its movement clearly visible.

That's Derek's spot.

Before his rebirth, he secretly stockpiled a large amount of high-calorie freeze-dried food and purified water in a motel on the outskirts of the city. This was originally the refuge that my brother and I had agreed upon.

Now, he is heading there alone, preparing to monopolize the supplies that will last him for half a year in this world.

The red dot is moving very fast; it should have already grabbed a car.

I opened my eyes and glanced at the empty supply bag on the passenger seat.

Turn the car key. The eight-cylinder engine emitted a deep roar, and the pale blue light on the dashboard illuminated the narrow driver's cabin.

Shift into gear and press the accelerator.

The heavy pickup truck, like a wild beast unleashed, rolled over the speed bumps and plunged into the night leading to the interstate highway.