In the seventh year of the end, 20,000 people were crammed into Iron Gate Stronghold. The one in the power distribution room had no name and lived in a shack on the edge of the ruins. His entire possessions were a bucket of muddy water, half a bag of starch, a picked-up biology textbook, and a white-core zombie rat. Collecting rations, carrying broken bricks, and scraping mycelium every day, we lived like ashes. Until that day when he pushed open the iron door of the Hunter's Guild - he just went to report an abnormal creep, but instead he was stuffed with a reserve registration form. Now he has to give himself a codename and learn how to hold a knife, how to run, and how to survive in the mouths of zombies. Something was moving under the ruins, and the fungus carpet was still spreading toward the distribution station. In his pocket, he had five bullets, an old gun, and an unpaid debt. No one knows the ruins better than he does. He knows zombies better than anyone. But now he wants to learn another thing - how to change from a brick collector to a hunter.
