Disaster in Los Angeles: Surviving the Apocalypse with My Childhood Friend

[A character-growth storyline, multi-theme dungeons, an ensemble cast, decisive action without cliches, not mindless wish fulfillment, survival, zombies, apocalypse, supplies + fresh premise + not mindless wish fulfillment + no invincible protagonist + sequence potions + the uncanny + road survival + upgrading supplies + ruthless characters]

2036, Luocheng.

Wang Zhe and his seven childhood friends had just arrived, ready to party, when the U-virus erupted worldwide and zombies surged everywhere. Hunted by the Klan Corporation in a foreign land, they could call to the heavens and get no answer.

No System, no cheat, no golden finger.

Just eight ordinary people: Wang Zhe, a coward who's secretly loved Yang Lei for ten years but never dared to tell her; Han Jin, a rich second-generation heir who dotes on his wife; Gao Shi, a theory master whose legs shake in real combat; Zhang Lei, honest and simple, but the fiercest when he erupts; Zhang Mumu, the group's loudmouth mood-maker; Yang Lei, a tough-as-nails construction engineer; Wang Chao, a discharged soldier whose heart has turned to ash; and Liu Aijuan, the clear-eyed realist.

The eight of them fight their way from a hotel to the sewers, from a supermarket to a library, and from the port all the way back to their homeland.

They scavenge for supplies, fight zombies, evade their pursuers, and try to survive.

They encounter a pursuer, a monster who freezes up at the sight of a red dress.

They encounter a hunter, a madman who plays with teddy-bear bombs.

They encounter Rat, a survivor leader who wants to sell them in exchange for serum.

And they meet Old Zheng, a stranger who offers them half a bowl of hot soup.

There is betrayal, sacrifice, and moments when they cry their eyes out.

There are also hands held in the dark, half a biscuit passed over in the firelight, and figures stepping forward to shield their friends when life and death hang in the balance.

Most importantly,

Eight people, eight lives. Not one of them can be left behind.

There's no System in the apocalypse, but I have seven childhood friends.

That's enough.

We'll wait for the rescue team, wait to go home, wait for that hotpot meal we've talked about eight hundred times.

We'll wait