Parallel World- an Apocalypse Hero

Jonathan's heart pounded. He hurriedly—oh—pulled—oh yes—pulled harder—yes—fuck me—yanked at the spear with all his strength. But—oh—pulled—oh yes—pulled harder—yes—fuck me—even with his full force, the weapon remained lodged in the zombie's skull, refusing to come loose! 

A foul, rancid wind rushed from behind him. No time to think—Jonathan shouted to the system, "System! gun!" 

The instant the handgun materialized in his grip, Jonathan spun around and squeezed the trigger at the dark figure closing in on him. 

"Bang!" 

The bullet shot straight into the zombie's gaping mouth, bursting out the back of its skull in a spray of blood and brain matter. The zombie's lunging body froze mid-air, giving Jonathan just enough time to dodge what would have been a fatal strike. 

The gunshot echoed through the grand hall. A series of guttural, inhuman moans followed. 

"Uhh~~ uhh uhh uhh~~~~" 

"Roar!~~ Roar!~~~" 

"Shit!" 

Jonathan instantly realized his mistake—there were still zombies hidden within the villa! 

The gunshot had awakened them from their dormant state. 

And whatever had happened to these zombies… had made them even stronger than the ones outside. 

"System! Retrieve handgun! Summon sword!" 

The handgun vanished from Jonathan's grip, replaced by a gleaming sword in his hands. 

In this kind of environment, using a gun was too risky—it would only draw more of them. 

At that moment, five grotesque, bloated zombies with massive, bluish-green bellies emerged from a nearby room. Their sharp, jagged teeth clattered together as they stumbled forward toward Jonathan. 

Two of them were clutching rotting human heads in their enormous hands, while another had a decayed, blackened intestine hanging from its mouth.

Jonathan turned to flee, but at the staircase entrance, a dozen small, grotesque zombies appeared at the same time. 

Their greenish-blue skin looked sickly under the dim light, and only a few wispy strands of white hair clung to their heads. Naked and hunched over, they snarled as they cautiously crept up the stairs toward him. 

"Damn it! I'm trapped!" 

Jonathan gripped the sword in his hands tightly, sweat rolling down his forehead in thick beads. 

He had underestimated the danger. 

He should never have rushed up here so recklessly! 

If it hadn't been for that mysterious noise, he would never have climbed to the second floor without properly checking the first. 

Now, there were five massive, powerful zombies in front of him… 

And behind him, a swarm of small, twisted creatures with razor-sharp claws, eerily resembling the evil goblins from horror movies. 

No way forward. No way back. 

"I have to fight my way out!" 

Jonathan clenched his sword, gritting his teeth. 

There was no guarantee of survival… but doing nothing meant certain death. 

Just as he was about to charge toward the stairs— 

"Creak~~" 

A door behind him slowly swung open. 

A woman's face peeked out from the hallway. 

Her eyes were filled with urgency as she whispered sharply: 

"Here! Hurry! Get inside!!"

Jonathan froze. 

He had no time to think, instinctively stepping back and slipping into the room. 

"Bang!" 

The door slammed shut behind him. 

A long, relieved exhale escaped his lips. 

If he had hesitated even a second longer, he would have been trapped between those grotesque monsters—and that would have been the end. 

With his current strength, a one-on-one fight was no problem. 

But against so many? 

If they swarmed him, he wouldn't even have a chance. 

Just one bite… one scratch… and the infection would take hold. 

There was no cure. 

He would become one of them. 

"Who… who are you?" 

A timid yet wary female voice broke the silence. 

"Are you okay? Were you hurt?" 

Jonathan wiped the sweat from his forehead, inhaling deeply to steady himself. 

"I'm fine. I wasn't bitten. Thank you—really—thank you for saving me." 

As he turned to face the woman, his breath hitched. 

His entire body stiffened. 

A deep, unexplainable feeling washed over him. 

Recognition. 

A strange, undeniable sense of familiarity. 

She had chestnut-colored, softly curled hair… 

A perfectly sculpted nose… 

Deep, striking blue eyes framed by long lashes… 

Full, tempting lips… 

And a tall, breathtakingly sensual figure… 

As she bent slightly, the curve of her round, snow-white breasts peeked through her disheveled clothes. 

Jonathan's mind reeled. 

No way. 

This woman… 

This unmistakable face… 

Was Monica. 

His mother. 

Not from this world— 

But from the parallel second world. 

Jonathan's mouth hung open in shock. 

His heart pounded violently in his chest. 

It was impossible. 

And yet— 

Something in the depths of his soul told him… 

That this moment—this reunion— 

Wasn't a coincidence.

At this moment, it was only 1995, and Monica was just 25 years old. Her first son, James Carter—her other self from the Second World—had not yet been born! 

Monica was merely an emerging supermodel, just beginning to make a name for herself. 

Right now, she had a youthful body, tight sun-kissed skin, breathtaking beauty, and an overflowing vibrance of youth. 

All of this made her not only irresistibly sexy but also exuded a hint of pure charm, evoking both adoration and a desire to protect her. 

Although she was the same Monica, the one before him now had a completely different aura compared to the Monica of the Second World. 

One carried the elegance of a mature queen, while the other had the allure of a sophisticated woman. 

Regardless of the version, Monica possessed an irresistible temptation for men—stunning looks, an alluring figure, and a natural, seductive charm. 

No matter the age, she was mesmerizing and utterly captivating! 

If Jonathan remembered correctly, it was around this age that Monica was ranked the second most beautiful woman in the world! 

Had he not seen Monica in this period with his own eyes, Jonathan might have never truly understood what it meant to be a divine beauty! 

Her beauty alone was not the most striking part—it was her aura, that soul-stirring charm that truly set her apart! 

Jonathan had to admit—his heart was racing! 

And at the same time, Monica was also stunned! 

Staring at the unfamiliar Latino man before her, an inexplicable urge surged within her—she wanted to embrace him, gently stroke his hair, and hold him tightly in her arms as she wept her heart out.