Zombie Survival System

Alexandre ignored his building's elevator and climbed the eight floors to his apartment. For some reason, it felt somewhat comforting to be back in his building after the last few days, and he wanted to make the short visit last as long as possible.

Finally he reached his unit, unlocked the door, and stepped inside.

Everything was as he'd left it. Alexandre felt a wave of sadness wash over him as he realized this would be the last time he ever set foot in this apartment that had been his home since he was 16. Sure, it was only a tiny place, barely 16 square meters, but he'd had a lot of good times here. It felt strange to know he was about to move on to a new Chapter of his life.

Alexandre approached his work desk. He picked up a photo frame which held a picture of three people—Alexandre and both his parents, taken before the Great Wave. As Alexandre stared at the photo, his feelings of sadness became hatred. He silently folded the leg on the back of the frame and put it into his bag.

"I can't let myself wallow in nostalgia and regret," said Alexandre firmly to the empty room. "I must learn from the past. I must not pretend the pain doesn't exist. To do so would be to deny what made me who and what I am. It would be to deny my own existence."

Nobody answered, of course. Still, saying it out loud made Alexandre feel more determined. His usual cold determination had returned.

Alexandre efficiently tidied up his affairs in the apartment, preparing for his stay on Hunter Island. Once he was a proper Hunter, Alexnadre wouldn't be free to just travel around America wherever he wanted. He certainly wouldn't have the opportunity to live in this apartment again. Therefore, he would soon end his lease so he wasn't paying rent for no reason.

Alexandre picked up his phone and called the building manager, leaving a voicemail saying he was leaving and that he'd leave the early termination fee—a full two months' rent, what a load of wasted money—in the building manager's mailbox.

Then Alexandre packed his few remaining belongings: some clothes, his laptop, and the beautiful gold signet ring which his father had given him just before he was arrested.

Aside from the ring, Alexandre wouldn't have minded if he'd needed to leave everything else behind. He'd returned to this apartment to retrieve one more very important thing, something hidden in the conduit that ran between his floor and the ceiling of his downstairs neighbor.

When Alexandre pulled the duffel bag from its hiding spot and unzipped it, he smiled at the sight of dozens of bundles of greenbacks—the equivalent of $80,000 in cash. This had been the result of nine years of hard work and many hardships.

With his cash and other belongings in hand, it was finally time to say goodbye to this place he'd lived in for almost a decade. Alexandre took one last look inside the apartment, then locked the door. As promised, when he returned to the ground floor, he left two months' rent in the building manager's mailbox, as well as the key to what was now his old apartment.

Then Alexandre returned outside where the cab was waiting.

"Where to, boss?" asked the cabbie.

"Worst place in the world," Alexandre said with a grunt. "Brooklyn."