Vampire Overlord's Harem In The Apocalypse

The groans of zombies echoed through the streets, sending a chill down Simon's spine.

The sound was both distant and unbearably close, and the realization that the undead were closing in on him made his heart race faster.

His feet pounded against the pavement, each step more frantic than the last. Around him, the chaos had erupted.

People were screaming, running in every direction, but there was no escape. The streets were a deadly maze of blood, bodies, and terror.

'There must have been one in the shop,' Simon thought, panic rising in his chest. He had seen it too many times to ignore the signs.

It started small — someone gets too close, a scratch, a bite — and before anyone knew it, the infection would spread.

And in this world, death was no longer a relief. A dead body didn't stay dead. Anyone who died, regardless of how, would soon rise again. And once you died, there was no coming back. You were one of them. A zombie... at least that was what Simon thought.

Simon's mind raced as he sprinted away from the growing sounds of gnashing teeth behind him. He dared a quick glance over his shoulder.

The sight made his stomach churn. Zombies were already feasting on the slow, the frightened, and the unlucky.

Blood pooled on the ground, mixing with the dirt and grime of the Gas station. There was no way to tell where the screams ended and the growls began — it was all a chaotic symphony of death.

As Simon ran, trying to keep his focus ahead, a figure caught his eye. It was a man, moving with strange calmness amid the madness.

He was dressed in a black cloak, ragged and torn with holes scattered across it. But it wasn't the cloak or his unusual appearance that caught Simon's attention — it was the way he moved. He wasn't running. He wasn't panicking.

He was walking toward the zombies, approaching the chaos without any hesitation.

Simon's pulse quickened. Who was this man? Why was he walking directly into the heart of the madness when everyone else was running for their lives? It made no sense.

His steps were steady, confident even, as if he was in control of the situation. But that didn't seem possible. Not in a world like this.

Then, as if to confirm Simon's suspicions, a zombie lunged from the shadows.

It was a woman — at least, what had once been a woman. Her decaying body was barely held together, her skin green and rotting.

She was fast, too fast for most people to react in time. But this man — this stranger — didn't even flinch.

With a swift sidestep, the man avoided the zombie's attack, and the creature stumbled past him, landing on all fours.

The man didn't wait. In one fluid motion, he pulled a gun from beneath his cloak. There was a sharp crack as he fired, and the zombie's head exploded in a gruesome spray of blood and brain matter.

The body crumpled to the ground in an instant.

Simon stopped, breathless, his eyes wide in disbelief. The man stood there, unfazed by the violence, as if it were nothing more than a simple task.

He holstered his gun with a practiced ease, then glanced at the remaining zombies around him.

They were closing in, but he didn't seem concerned. He was calm, as though he had dealt with this sort of thing countless times before.

Simon's mind raced. No one fought zombies like this. No one moved with such confidence in the face of certain death.

It was as if he knew something everyone else didn't, something that made him immune to the fear that gripped the rest of them.

Then, Simon noticed something strange. A faint, glowing blue interface appeared in front of the man.

It was barely visible at first, but as the man moved, it became clearer. The interface was familiar, he knew what it was. It clicked in Simon's mind with a sudden, sharp clarity.

The World Ranking.

As if on cue, another zombie charged toward the man. But the stranger was ready.

With lightning-fast reflexes, he pulled out another weapon, a sleek knife, and before the zombie could even get within striking distance, the man plunged it into its skull.

The creature collapsed to the ground without a sound.

Simon's mouth went dry. The ease with which the man fought was almost unsettling.

The calmness in his movements, the precision with which he dispatched the zombies — it was clear that he was far more than just a survivor. He had become something else entirely.

He wasn't just fighting for his life; he was fighting back. And he was winning.

The zombies around the man continued to close in, but he was untouchable. Each movement was deliberate, controlled.

He wasn't panicked or desperate. He didn't have to be. He was no longer just trying to survive the apocalypse — he had become a part of it, a player in this deadly game, and he knew how to win.

The man moved in a blur, raising his knife just in time to block the claws of a charging zombie.

The clash of steel against decaying bone echoed through the air, the sound sharp and jarring.

He grunted as the force of the zombie's strength pushed against him. Despite his skill and speed, he was still human, and even he couldn't match the raw power of the undead.

With a swift grunt, he shoved the zombie back and lunged forward, driving his knife into its skull with a practiced motion.

The zombie crumpled to the ground, lifeless once again.

He yanked the knife free, his breath steady but his muscles aching from the effort.

The blue interface hovering before him flashed as his world ranking rose, the numbers ticking upward.

But there was no time to celebrate. The growling of more zombies filled the air. He glanced around, realizing they were beginning to advance toward him. He knew what was coming. A single bite would be his end.

His gaze landed on an abandoned fuel keg nearby, its cork tightly sealed. An idea sparked in his mind.

Without hesitation, he hurled the keg toward the zombies, watching as it rolled to a stop in their midst.

He quickly raised his gun and fired, hitting the keg with a clean shot. The explosion was deafening, a violent burst of flames and debris that made the Zombies burn...

---

The man turned his gaze toward Simon, his piercing blue eyes locking with the vampire's.

There was something unsettling in the depth of those eyes, something that made Simon's skin crawl.

The world around him seemed to dim as the man's cold stare intensified, as if the very air was thickening with menace.

The sun had long disappeared behind a thick blanket of dark clouds, leaving only the faintest slits where stray rays of light barely pierced through.

The world seemed suspended in this unnatural twilight.

The man's voice broke the silence, his tone almost thoughtful, as if speaking to himself. "I wonder if killing humans will help me rise higher," he muttered, his words a chilling reminder of his singular obsession.

Simon didn't flinch. His eyes, though filled with the heavy weight of despair, showed no fear.

The man smirked, a cold, calculating expression on his face. He seemed almost bored with Simon's lack of reaction, as if he expected fear, pleading, or desperation. But all Simon gave him was a steady stare.

The man's thoughts shifted quickly back to his goal—ranking in the top ten. It was the only thing that mattered, the only purpose driving him now.

Everything else, all the lives he'd taken, meant nothing. Only the rankings mattered.

Without a word, the man began to walk toward Simon, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the heavy silence.

He raised his gun slowly, deliberately, aiming it at Simon's head. "Stay still," the man said, his voice flat and emotionless. "I'll make your death quick and painless."

Simon didn't move. His chest tightened, but his face remained calm, as if he were already beyond the reach of fear.

The man's eyes never wavered, his hand steady on the gun, but Simon could feel the weight of something far darker in the air — an emptiness, a hunger that ran deeper than any mere desire for power.

It was a hunger that nothing would ever truly satisfy.