Surviving the apocalypse with a wife and a system! [GL]

She didn’t rush blindly this time. Instead, she used her head. Her eyes quickly scanned the zombies outside the boundary, trying to find one that was close enough and, more importantly, alone. She didn’t have the strength to deal with multiple at once, not in that state. After a few seconds, she spotted one just near the edge, slightly separated from the others, slowly wandering without much direction.

That was her chance.

She tightened her grip on the steel rod, took a breath, and stepped out of the boundary for a split second. The moment she got close, she swung the rod down hard onto the zombie’s head. But the result was worse than she expected. There was a dull sound, but the zombie barely reacted. It didn’t even seem hurt. Her strength back then was just too weak. For a second, panic almost crept back into her mind.

But she didn’t step back mentally.

Instead, she stepped back physically.

Right back into the boundary.

The zombie followed, but it stopped at the edge, unable to enter.

That’s when she realized something.

This boundary... wasn’t just protection.

It was her biggest advantage.

Without wasting time, she stepped out again, hit it once more, then stepped back in before the zombie could even react properly. Again and again, she repeated the same thing. In, hit, out. In, hit, out. The zombie was slow, its reactions delayed, and she used that to her full advantage. Each hit was weak on its own, but they added up. Slowly, very slowly, cracks began to show. After what felt like forever, she finally landed a hit that made the zombie collapse.

She didn’t even pause. She rushed forward, grabbed the crystal core from its head, and stumbled back into the boundary.

But when she looked up at the glowing machine again, her heart sank a little.

Almost five minutes had passed.

Only about six minutes were left.

Her breathing got heavier, but her eyes didn’t lose focus.

She had a goal now.

Just one more.

When she checked the information on the interdimensional market earlier, besides the basic details, there was something else that caught her attention. A random lottery box. And the most important part was, it only required two level one zombie crystal cores.

Yes, right now she was really betting her life on this random lottery box and there was no other way to sugarcoat it or make it sound less ridiculous. The number written there, that 0.0001 percent chance, kept flashing in her mind again and again like something stuck that refused to go away no matter how much she tried to ignore it. It was so small that for most people it might as well not even exist, and if someone heard it under normal circumstances, they would probably laugh and call it impossible, or worse, completely stupid. But Yan Cijin didn’t laugh, and she didn’t think it was stupid either, because at this moment she understood something very clearly, something that she had already learned the hard way in her past lives. This was not about luck, and it was not about logic either. This was about survival, and survival did not always give you clean or reasonable choices. Sometimes it just threw you into a corner and forced you to choose between something impossible and something even worse. Right now, this tiny chance was the only path she could see in front of her, and even if it looked like nothing, it was still better than standing still and waiting to die.

She knew very well that no matter how strong her will was or how much she wanted to live, her body still had limits. Back then, she had struggled, she had fought, she had run, and she had cried, but none of that changed the fact that she was still weak compared to what this world demanded from her. Determination alone could not break skulls, and courage alone could not stop a zombie from tearing into flesh. She needed power, real power, something that could let her survive not just today but the days after, and that was why she was standing here right now, staring at that machine like it was the most important thing in existence. Because it was. If she walked away from this, she knew she would regret it for the rest of her life, assuming she even had a life left after this.

Her hands were shaking slightly, not just from fear but from exhaustion as well. Her arms felt heavy, her legs felt unstable, and even standing straight felt like effort now. But she didn’t let herself fall. She couldn’t afford to. She took a slow breath and forced herself to move again, repeating the same method as before without wasting even a second. Her eyes scanned the area quickly, searching for the next target, and soon she found one, a zombie standing slightly apart from the rest, not too far but not too close either, slow and clumsy like all the others. Perfect. Without thinking any further, she stepped out of the boundary again and rushed forward, raising the steel rod with both hands before bringing it down hard on the zombie’s head.

The impact made a dull sound, but it was not enough. The zombie staggered but didn’t fall, and her arms shook from the force of the hit. She stepped back into the boundary again before it could react, breathing heavily as she tightened her grip on the rod. Then she went out again, hit again, came back again, repeating the same motion over and over like a loop that had no pause. Each strike chipped away a little more, each hit breaking a bit more flesh and bone, but it was slow, far too slow, and she could feel time slipping away with every second. Her muscles were burning now, her hands starting to lose strength, and her vision even blurred slightly at one point, but she forced herself to keep going, refusing to stop even for a moment.

Finally, after what felt like forever but was probably only a few minutes, one last hit landed with enough force to crack the skull open completely, and the zombie dropped to the ground without moving again. She didn’t even wait to catch her breath before stepping forward and digging out the crystal core with trembling fingers, then immediately retreating back into the boundary again. When she looked up at the timer, her heart tightened instantly. Only one minute and forty four seconds left. That was it. That was all she had.

Her legs almost gave out when she tried to stand properly, and for a moment she nearly fell forward, but she caught herself at the last second and forced her body to move. Each step toward the machine felt heavy, like she was dragging herself through water, and even lifting her arms felt difficult now. But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Reaching into her pocket, she took out the two crystal cores and pushed them into the slot, her fingers slightly clumsy from fatigue. The machine responded immediately with a soft beep, and a list of items appeared on the screen, simple food and water, things that might help someone survive for a day or two, but she didn’t even glance at them properly. Her eyes went straight to the one option she cared about, the random lottery box, and without wasting any time she tapped it.

A confirmation message appeared instantly, listing all the probabilities again, repeating that ridiculous 0.0001 percent chance for a mythical loot box, as if reminding her just how unlikely it was.

”Are you sure you want to draw the random lottery box worth 2 level one crystal cores? A reminder that the chance to draw any basic level item is 50%, and the chance to draw any slightly useful item is 30%. The chance to draw a good item is only 10%, with the rest being drawing nothing. Also, there are hidden boxes which may open but require immense luck. The chance to draw a rare loot box is 1%, legendary loot box is 0.001%, and mythical loot box is 0.0001%. Do you wish to continue?”

Yan Cijin stood there silently.

For a moment, that hesitation came back again.

0.0001%.

It was ridiculous.

Almost impossible.

Her fingers hovered slightly above the screen.

Her breathing slowed for just a second.

For a brief moment, that hesitation returned again, that tiny doubt creeping into her mind, but the moment she glanced at the timer and saw only fifty six seconds remaining, her expression hardened immediately. There was no time left for doubt, no space left for fear, and no second chance waiting for her. She clenched her hand slightly, took a breath, and pressed yes without another thought.

The screen flickered for a moment, and then a spinning wheel appeared, bright and colorful, rotating slowly at first before picking up speed, spinning faster and faster until it became hard to follow with the eyes. It looked almost identical to those machines people used for gambling, except this time there was no money involved, no entertainment, no thrill for fun. This time, everything she had, her life, her future, her family, all of it was riding on what that spinning wheel would stop on.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the spinning wheel slowly began to lose speed, the rapid blur of colors gradually becoming clearer as each section passed by one after another, and Yan Cijin felt her entire body stiffen without even realizing it. Her breathing had already become uneven, her chest rising and falling faster than before, and even though she tried to stay calm, her heart was pounding so loudly that it almost felt like it was echoing inside her ears. As the wheel slowed further, her fingers curled slightly into her palms, nails pressing into her skin, and almost without thinking, she shut her eyes tightly, as if not looking at the result would somehow delay the outcome or soften whatever was about to happen. The fear inside her at that moment was not something simple, it wasn’t just nervousness or tension, it was the kind of fear that came from standing right at the edge of life and death, where one small outcome could decide everything. The thought that she might draw nothing, or worse, something completely useless, made her feel like a cold blade was already resting against her neck, ready to fall at any moment, and for a brief second, she even felt like she couldn’t breathe properly.

Then suddenly, a loud bursting sound rang out in front of her, sharp and unexpected like a firecracker exploding right next to her ears, and her eyes snapped open instantly in shock. Before she could even process what was happening, a blinding light flooded her vision, so bright that she had to squint slightly, her eyes struggling to adjust as everything in front of her turned into a glowing haze. And right there, floating above the machine in that overwhelming light, was a single word written clearly, almost like it was meant to be carved into her memory forever.

”Congratulations.”

For a moment, Yan Cijin just stood there, completely still, her mind going blank as she stared at that word, her heart skipping a beat before suddenly starting to race even faster than before. Slowly, almost cautiously, her gaze dropped downward, and that was when she saw it, a golden loot box floating quietly in front of the machine, shining softly as if it carried its own light. It looked exactly like those reward boxes from games, but at the same time, it felt completely different, more real, more heavy, like it carried something far beyond just an item inside it. Her throat felt dry, and without even realizing it, her hand reached out toward it, almost like she was being pulled in by something invisible.

.

.

.

To be continued.