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Lust System: Harem In Two Different Timelines-Chapter 42: Weakness
Chapter 42: Weakness
One... two... three... four... fifteen... thirty... thirty-seven...
Like a tide, zombies rushed out of the villa in an endless stream.
Outside the iron gate, dense swarms of zombies had gathered around the Lincoln car and began piling onto it like a pyramid. It wouldn’t be long before the vehicle was completely swallowed by the undead horde.
"We can’t wait any longer!"
Watching the zombies gradually enveloping the car, Yasin grabbed the torch he had prepared earlier, lit it with a kerosene lighter, and hurled it forcefully at the Lincoln’s fuel tank.
At that moment, the car was surrounded by zombies. Though Yasin’s throw was precise, the torch struck several of the creatures clawing at the vehicle and bounced off harmlessly to the side.
The flames failed to ignite the leaking gasoline.
More zombies surged forward, their trampling feet threatening to snuff out the torch entirely.
"Damn it!"
Panic edged Yasin’s voice.
An unforeseen complication had arisen.
Gasoline pooled across the ground, but the torch lay half a meter away—too far to catch the spill. The growing swarm threatened to smother both the flames and the fuel.
If the gasoline didn’t ignite soon, the car would be completely overrun, making it impossible to set ablaze.
Inside the villa, more zombies poured into the front yard, hurling themselves frantically at the iron gate.
A massive, hulking zombie slammed against the barrier with terrifying force. Had the gate not been reinforced, the brute would have already torn it down.
"There’s no time to grab another torch!"
Cold sweat beaded on Yasin’s forehead.
Without hesitation, he raised his gun and aimed at the gasoline-soaked ground.
"Time to gamble."
Gritting his teeth, Yasin pulled the trigger.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Three shots rang out, the bullets striking the concrete where fuel had spilled.
The impact sparked against the pavement—but the tiny flares weren’t enough to ignite the gasoline.
Worse, the zombies’ relentless stomping thinned the spreading fuel, diluting its chance to catch fire.
The torch on the ground had already been crushed, leaving only a few dying embers that could be extinguished at any moment.
"I didn’t prepare enough!" Yasin cursed inwardly, his pulse hammering.
If the car’s alarm kept blaring, more zombies would converge on the manor.
The ones outside the gate were already piling high enough to potentially scale the fence and spill inside!
What now?
Forcing down his panic, Yasin steadied himself. His gaze locked onto the zombies shoving and biting each other in their frenzy—then a desperate idea struck.
The undead were so densely packed that some were being crushed underfoot, their bodies smeared with gasoline as others trampled over them.
One zombie’s head had nearly been flattened, its limbs lost in the chaos, leaving only a single arm clawing weakly forward.
Its body glistened with fuel.
Glancing at the kerosene lighter in his hand, Yasin muttered a silent prayer, flicked it alight, and lobbed it at the zombie.
The lighter landed squarely on the creature’s head, setting its hair ablaze before tumbling into the horde and being stomped out.
"Damn it!" Yasin slammed a fist into the ground in frustration.
Though drenched in gasoline, the zombie’s head wasn’t coated—only its body.
The flames licking its scalp weren’t enough to ignite the spill.
If the lighter couldn’t start the fire, Yasin was out of options.
Then—a stroke of luck.
The zombies recoiled from the flames in terror. The one-armed creature flailed its remaining limb, desperately swatting at its burning hair.
That arm was soaked in gasoline.
The moment its hand touched the fire, flames erupted along its limb, racing across its fuel-drenched body.
In seconds, the zombie was engulfed.
The blaze spread to others nearby, their clothes catching like tinder.
The tightly packed horde writhed in panic, some screeching as they scrambled away from the inferno.
Amid the chaos, a gap opened near the car’s fuel tank.
The first burning zombie lurched forward, collapsing onto the gasoline-slicked pavement.
Fire met fuel.
A colossal fireball erupted skyward, swallowing the surrounding zombies in a roaring inferno.
"Roar!~~~"
"Uh uh uh!~~~"
"Ahhh!~~~"
The zombies’ screams came one after another, their frenzied movements suddenly turning into panic.
Then, the flames reached the fuel tank.
"Boom!!!"
A deafening explosion erupted, the shockwave hurling countless zombies into the air.
Fire spread instantly, igniting the dense horde around them.
These zombies seemed to carry flammable substances—when they collided with the burning ones, their bodies caught fire as well.
Everything happened in mere seconds.
The once-packed zombie horde was now engulfed in flames.
"Bang!!"
"Bang!!"
"Bang!!"
Yasin ignored the chaos outside the iron gate, lying motionless atop it, his rifle trained on the zombies inside. Each shot spat fire, precise and deadly.
"Bang!"
"Bang!"
"Bang!"
The sound of bullets tearing through zombie skulls echoed almost simultaneously with the gunfire.
Now, the zombies were dangerously close—barely ten meters away. At this range, Yasin’s marksmanship was flawless. Every shot struck true, the rifle’s lethality at its peak.
Several burly zombies collapsed instantly, their heads blown apart.
"Bang!!"
"Bang!!"
"Bang!!"
"Bang!!"
...
As the zombies inside the gate fell one by one, Yasin’s movements grew smoother, his shots more effortless.
Killing zombies with a rifle allowed the system to absorb their brain core energy, but the recharge rate was noticeably slower than with close-quarters combat. After gunning down over a dozen zombies, the energy gained was equivalent to only two melee kills.
Zombies obliterated by the explosion or burned alive provided no energy at all.
Moreover, melee combat gave Yasin a tangible sense of growth—his agility, strength, endurance, and reflexes all improving gradually.
But with firearms, the gains were minimal. Only his alertness seemed to sharpen—his vision, hearing, and perception slightly enhanced.
The more zombies Yasin killed, the more precise his aim became.
Soon, the rifle ran dry.
Without hesitation, he reloaded and resumed firing.
Time blurred—it could have been minutes or hours.
Finally, Yasin lowered the rifle and slowly stood.
The front yard was a gruesome mess, littered with zombie corpses.
Near the palace, dozens of bodies lay in disarray.
Only three bullets remained in the rifle.
Five more sat in the Dimensional Cube.
Over a hundred rounds—nearly exhausted.
But the zombies lured from the villa were finally cleared.
Yasin exhaled deeply and turned his gaze beyond the iron gate.
Flames still raged across the ground, green fire consuming the charred remains of dozens of zombies.
The rest of the horde, seemingly terrified of the fire, lingered at the edges of the inferno before slowly dispersing.
"These zombies can burn..."
Yasin stared at a twitching zombie engulfed in flames, his expression grim.
"And they fear fire..."
A newfound weakness.
The zombies appeared coated in flammable substances—once ignited, they burned relentlessly.
Moreover, fire seemed to repel them as much as sunlight. They refused to approach large flames.
A crucial discovery.
Since arriving in this apocalyptic world, Yasin had relied on his past-life knowledge from movies, TV shows, and novels to understand the undead.
Many of his assumptions had been preconceived.
For someone with no prior experience of the apocalypse, this had been helpful—at first.
Some zombie traits did align with fictional depictions.
But fiction was fiction. Reality was far more unpredictable.
The deeper Yasin delved into this world, the more he realized how different these zombies were from their fictional counterparts.
Relying solely on past-life tropes would be a fatal mistake.
"Zzzz~~~Zzzz~~~Zzzz~~~~"
Static crackled from the intercom, followed by Vivian’s frantic voice: "Yasin, are you okay? Answer me! Yasin!"