Vampire Overlord's Harem In The Apocalypse-Chapter 32: Apocalypse Farming (II)

He steadied his hand on the gun, his focus absolute. The zombies below had lost sight of him, making them easy targets.

Their groans echoed in the still air, but Simon’s crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, sharp and focused.

With each movement, he sharpened his senses, becoming one with his surroundings. The silence of the moment was almost suffocating, but it worked to his advantage.

One by one, Simon pulled the trigger.

The first shot rang out, reverberating through the street. The bullet collided with a zombie’s head, and it collapsed instantly, lifeless.

His next shot found its mark, and then another. The rhythm of the gunshots became almost hypnotic as the zombies dropped one after another, the air filling with the sound of bodies hitting the ground.

With every pull of the trigger, the tension that had been building inside him seemed to release, like letting out a long-held breath.

By the time the last zombie fell, Simon stood still for a moment, surveying the aftermath. He had dealt with a handful of the undead, but it was still early. There were more to come.

Zombies weren’t a challenge anymore — not like they had been when the world first fell to chaos. He could see it in the way they moved: slow, predictable, and with little intelligence.

It made them easy to kill. The problem was, there was no shortage of them.

As the final zombie hit the ground, a barrage of notifications flashed across his vision. His ranking in the world had increased with every kill, and his points ticked up. Y

et, Simon only glanced at them briefly before dismissing the notifications with a flick of his wrist. The numbers didn’t matter right now. The world ranking didn’t matter right now. The only thing that mattered was survival.

"Zombies are easy to kill," he muttered under his breath. "They lack intelligence, and while their bodies are durable, a headshot is usually enough."

He wasn’t naive, though. The world had changed, and with it, the rules of survival. Guns were finite. Ammo was a resource he couldn’t afford to waste. As useful as the pistol was, it wasn’t going to be enough for long. It was time to bring out something more suited for the task at hand.

Simon reached for his Undead Slayer—a weapon forged for this exact moment.

The blade was sleek, perfectly balanced, and razor-sharp. He had no doubt it would cut through the undead like butter. His fingers wrapped around the hilt, and he could feel the familiar rush of power flood through him. This was what he had been training for: not just surviving, but thriving. His vampire abilities made him faster, stronger, and more capable than any human. But it wasn’t just about raw power—it was about efficiency, precision, and making every strike count.

"Time to test it out," he whispered under his breath, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Without another thought, Simon leaped from the fire escape, his body moving with fluid grace.

He landed on the ground without breaking his stride, the impact barely affecting him. As a vampire, the fall didn’t bother him, but he knew it would have crushed any normal human.

His focus remained sharp, the adrenaline coursing through him as he surveyed the empty street ahead.

The sound of growling zombies reached his ears. It was the same haunting noise he had been hearing throughout yesterday, but today, he was in a different state of mind. Today, he was ready to face whatever came his way.

A group of zombies shuffled aimlessly through the street ahead. Their rotting bodies and vacant eyes were a stark reminder of what the world had become.

But Simon didn’t hesitate. His legs moved in a blur, and before the zombies could react, he was on them.

The Undead Slayer flashed in the dim sunlight, its edge gleaming as it cut through the air with deadly precision.

The first zombie didn’t even have time to register the threat before Simon thrust the blade into its skull. The impact was satisfying — sharp, clean, and final. It crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll.

But Simon didn’t slow down. The others were already moving toward him, their sluggish limbs reaching out in desperation. He didn’t give them a chance. The sword moved like an extension of his own body, a blur of steel cutting through the undead in rapid succession.

With each slash, he felt the satisfaction of a job well done—the blade meeting its mark, the undead falling before him.

The zombies’ attempts to retaliate were futile. Their movements were slow, predictable. Simon was faster. His sword cut through their decaying flesh with ease, severing heads and limbs in one fluid motion. It was almost like a dance—a deadly waltz where only he knew the steps.

As the last of the zombies crumpled to the ground, Simon stood still for a moment, breathing heavily. The street was littered with the bodies of the undead, but Simon wasn’t fazed.

This wasn’t his first fight, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last.

The Undead Slayer gleamed with fresh blood, and Simon’s heart pounded in his chest, not from exhaustion, but from the thrill of the kill.

There was something about it — something primal — that he couldn’t ignore. The undead were easy to kill, but every fight, every victory, gave him a sense of purpose. He wasn’t just surviving anymore. He was adapting.

He knew, though, that the zombies were only the beginning.

The real threats were out there, and they were more than just mindless creatures. There were other survivors, other factions It was only a matter of time before the true challenges arose. Simon was ready for them.

He wiped the blood from his blade, sheathing it once more. The Undead Slayer would be his ally, but it wouldn’t be enough on its own. He needed to keep moving, keep improving, keep honing his skills.

With one last glance at the carnage, Simon turned and walked down the empty street. The world was different now, but he was different too. The fight was just beginning.

The future was uncertain, but Simon was determined to carve his own path in this new world.