Threesome in Fantasy World?

"What is energy?" I inquired.

The answer came, [ Every entity carries within it a dualistic energy. Its corporeal form springs forth from the womb of the Earth, while its animating essence is a celestial gift from the heavens above. Upon the death of a zombie, a fragment of its energy—about 30%—seeps back into the Earth's bosom, while an equal portion rises to reunite with the heavenly expanse.

What remains—the residual 40%—is the quintessence of its once-human nature. Over time, this lingering energy eventually scatters, melding with the elements of both land and sky. Yet, this energy can be harnessed.However, the energy within zombies has been tainted by darkness. Out of the 40%, 30% is dark energy, and the remaining 10% is pure, natural energy.]

[Which type of energy would you extract?]

"What's the difference?" I asked.

[Dark energy is potent when channeled or practiced in dark arts. Without such practices, absorbing dark energy could overwhelm you with negative emotions like anger or arrogance. On the other hand, natural energy is pure and beneficial.]

"Then, I choose natural energy."

Upon affirmation, I felt a rush as energy flowed into me. It rejuvenated me, akin to the invigorating feeling after a deep sleep.

[Will you choose to continually absorb natural energy from your surroundings?]

"Automatically absorbing it? I like the idea!"

[From now on, you will passively absorb all the energy from creatures you've killed or from free, unabsorbed energy in the environment.]

I'm not sure whether this screen appeared due to the item I received from the old man or because of the characteristics of this new world. I need more time and a place to think about it.

"Alright," came the next instruction, "safety first. Find a secure spot to hide or a weapon that ensures a one-hit kill."

I cautiously opened the door leading downstairs. As I descended, I reminded myself that zombies were not martial arts experts. They were simple creatures — they would just sprint towards me and try to bite.

No kung fu, no rasengan, just a bite like an animal.

Predictable. The key was to confront them head-on, ensuring they only approached from one direction.

As I neared the last step of the staircase, the distinct, guttural groan of a zombie cut through the stifling silence. Its pallid face, marred by oozing sores and sunken eyes, lurched into view. I could see its jaws snapping, hungry and wild, emitting a bone-chilling scream that echoed through the halls. The way it ran was erratic, its feet dragging and stumbling, yet propelled by a singular, ravenous intent. The sound of its decaying feet slapping against the floor grew louder and more frantic.

My grip on the iron baton tightened, fingers white-knuckled, the cold metal pressing into my palm. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, each beat echoing the urgency of the moment. Adrenaline surged through my veins, sharpening my senses and pushing away the paralyzing fear. Every instinct screamed at me: one misstep, one miscalculated swing, and it would be over.

Drawing on every ounce of my focus, I waited for the perfect moment. As the distance closed, I swung with all my might, connecting the baton cleanly with its decaying skull. The impact was jarring, a wet crunch resonating through the air, sending the creature's head recoiling backward. Almost instantly, another took its place, drawn by the commotion. But with each encounter, I grew more resolute, relying on their predictability, ensuring my survival strike after strike.

Strangely, with each vanquished zombie, I felt my energy rejuvenating. The influx of energy seemed to empower me, enhancing my strength and stamina.

I methodically cleared the zombies, progressing floor by floor through what appeared to be a modest hotel building with a total of five levels. Each floor contained around 6-7 rooms. I didn't inspect every room because, fortunately, the zombies lacked the intellect to operate door handles.

I'll inspect each room later. For now, my priority is to eliminate the zombies on the ground floor.

Initially, my intent was to rid the first floor of zombies. But upon witnessing the shattered windows and creaky doors ajar, revealing a street overrun with frenzied, blood-soaked zombies, their moans echoing hauntingly, I quickly shifted my focus to fortifying the staircase leading up to the second floor.

There were two distinct pathways from the first to the second floor. To barricade one, I hauled the corpses of the fallen zombies, positioning them as a gruesome barrier. The overpowering stench of decay was nauseating, making me gag, but I couldn't afford to waste any more time. I had questions, many about the nature of these creatures, but they would have to wait. Night was approaching, and I needed a secure shelter.

Treading lightly on the second floor, I approached the first door, rapping softly, "Housekeeping." Silence hung heavy in the air. Tentatively, I tried the handle — it wouldn't budge. Relief washed over me. "If it's locked, whatever's inside stays put," I mused, "unless it's alive and intelligent enough to turn the knob."

Slipping to the adjacent room, I found the door slightly ajar. As I pushed it further, three zombies lunged toward the entrance. I quickly retreated, positioning myself strategically, luring them one at a time. Each stumbled forward, almost presenting their heads to me. Methodically, I dispatched each one. The message was clear in my mind:

"Slow and steady wins the race, but arrogance is a deadly price to pay."

On the third floor, the atmosphere grew thicker, with each door presenting an unknown challenge. I approached the first one - it was unlocked. As I slowly turned the handle, a zombie lunged at me from the dim interior, its decayed features grotesquely twisted. I dispatched it quickly, its lifeless body crumpling to the ground.

The next door was locked, giving me a brief sigh of relief. Perhaps it was a safe haven.

But as I moved on, a door creaked open unexpectedly. A young girl, looking no older than a teenager and sporting cat ears, stared at me. Her eyes, wide with shock and fear, reflected the chaos that had consumed the world outside.

"Hey," I motioned with a swift hand gesture, urgency evident in my movements. "Get back inside, and keep the door locked. Never open it, alright?"

She gave a quick nod, understanding the gravity of the situation. The door clicked shut, locking the horrors of the outside away from her once more. Safe, for now.

Navigating the fourth floor, tension was palpable with every step. The first door was unlocked, revealing a decaying zombie inside. Without hesitation, I dealt with the creature, ensuring it would no longer pose a threat.

The following door was locked, which I took as a positive sign—likely an unbreached sanctuary within.

As I approached the next unlocked door, a scene unfolded: a visibly distressed middle-aged woman stood there, her attire torn and disheveled from what must have been a previous struggle. Her features, though marked by age, were undeniably attractive. Our eyes met; hers filled with a mix of fear and a silent plea for assistance. Reacting swiftly to ensure our safety, I placed a finger on my lips, signaling her to remain silent. Gratefully, she nodded in understanding.

Retreating from her room, I closed her door and used the dark blood of a previously slain zombie to mark a warning on it: "No entry, dangerous creature inside. Approach at your own risk." It wasn't entirely true, but it would deter any unwanted attention, granting her a semblance of security amidst the chaos.

She is dangerous, exuding an aura similar to those professional courtesans in my city. These individuals can drain your money, your life, and your future effortlessly. She's a real threat, truly dangerous.

As I began clearing the fifth floor, the eerie silence was palpable. Most of the rooms seemed empty and abandoned. Encountering locked doors only intensified my unease; the fear of the unknown compelled me to break them open to ensure my safety. Eventually, I chose a room situated at the furthest end from the stairs. It had a sturdy door and two windows, providing a panoramic view of the surroundings. Although the power was out, natural light flooded the room, ensuring that even without electricity, I wouldn't be in total darkness.

The floor's design included one stairway connecting it to the fourth floor. I took no chances, barricading it with the mutilated remains of defeated zombies. This ensured that even if zombies breached the second floor, they would find it difficult to access the fifth.

I suspected that some survivors might still be locked in some rooms. However, fatigue took over, and I decided not to investigate further. After securing the door, a heavy silence filled the room. My fingers traced the walls as I took in the surroundings, half-expecting an unseen danger. My stomach growled, but the adrenaline had temporarily suppressed my hunger.

"Do I need food now? Not really," I whispered. "Take this one step at a time." My eyes grew heavy, and I drifted into sleep.

Waking up felt surreal. The walls seemed to shimmer with a phosphorescent glow, brighter than any glow-in-the-dark material I'd seen. Curiously, I walked over to the balcony. Three radiant moons lit up the sky, creating an otherworldly ambiance.

A wave of melancholy hit me. "Is it time to grieve for DEA?" I mumbled, gripping the railing, memories of lost friends in the war blurring my vision. The emotional toll had numbed my feelings.

A hesitant knock interrupted my thoughts. Grasping my iron baton, I cautiously opened the door to find two young teenage girls: one with cat ears, and the other looking more... pure, shy, and beautiful.

"Can we come in?" Their wide, pleading eyes sought refuge. Their clothes, tattered and worn, told a story of their ordeal.

'Threesome in the other world with a pure teenager and cat ears teenager?'

Shaking my head, I responded, "No, stay in your room."

After locking the door, I returned to the balcony, gazing at the zombies below.

Another series of knocks soon followed. "Those persistent girls again," I sighed.

But this time, when I opened the door, I was met by the pleading eyes of a middle-aged woman with glasses, accompanied by the two teenagers. "Could you let us in?" she asked, desperation evident in her tone.

'Foursome in the other world with a sexy teacher too!'

I smirked, amused by the situation. "Sorry, no."

She blocked the door with her hand, desperation turning to panic. "Please! Why won't you let us in?"

"For all I know, you three could be plotting to kill me while I sleep," I countered.

"We mean no harm!" she begged. "We'll do anything you ask!"

"All the more reason to keep you out," I snapped, shutting the door with force.

Leaning against it, I murmured to myself, "Do you think I'm stupid? You have no idea how many of my friends have met their end at the hands of women while sleeping with them. Especially when a woman says, 'Please, I'll do anything for you!'"

I'm not stupid!