Regressed with Omnipotent AI on Zombie Apocalypse

The thick, metallic scent of blood hit Zack instantly. Ahead, two or three shadowy figures lingered near the stairs.

"Sir, there are approximately three to five zombies in the corridor. Proceed with caution," Ego warned. Without a surveillance system in the old building, Ego had to rely on street-level monitoring, estimating the number of zombies based on when they entered and exited the building.

"I'll be careful," Zack whispered, inching forward.

At the corner of the stairwell, three zombies came into view. Each one was covered in bite marks, pieces of flesh missing, their eyes empty and lifeless. These weren’t the ones attracted by the bait.

Zack raised his nail gun, aiming at one zombie’s head. He squeezed the trigger carefully.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

The faint sound of air pressure released as a nail shot through the zombie's eye socket, exiting through the back of its skull in a spray of dark blood. The creature staggered forward a couple of steps before collapsing.

The noise alerted the other two zombies, but before they could react, Zack fired two more nails. One zombie went down instantly, struck squarely in the head, while the other, a little off-target, needed two more nails before it finally dropped.

"Almost out of ammo," Zack muttered, feeling the nail gun's power weakening. He had maybe two or three shots left before it ran dry.

"Sir, behind you!" Ego suddenly warned.

Zack spun around to see a blood-soaked figure stumbling toward him—the female streamer who had just been bitten. She was still in her pajamas, her skin now torn and mottled, her mouth twisted into a savage snarl.

"Damn it! I forgot about you!" Zack cursed, tossing the nail gun aside and pulling out his baseball bat. The once-pristine bat was now embedded with nails, transformed into a crude yet deadly mace.

The zombie lunged at him with a fierce roar, and Zack swung the bat with all his strength.

BAM!

The bat connected with her head, and with a sickening pop, her skull caved in, splattering the wall behind her with blood and fragments. The zombie collapsed, twitching before going still.

"Sir, I suggest retrieving the car keys from her. Her vehicle is parked downstairs," Ego advised.

Zack hesitated, glancing at the corpse with a grimace. He hadn’t planned on digging through her pockets, but… it was the logical choice.

"Fine," he muttered, steeling himself as he fished through her jacket pocket, grimacing at the blood-slicked keys.

"Thank you, Ego," he said, though he felt a little shaken. He couldn’t afford to waste more time.

Rushing downstairs, he slipped past the zombie horde gathered near the bait outside and reached the car.

"Sir, the car is on your left. It’s pink," Ego directed.

A sleek, pink electric sedan waited in front of him. Zack quickly unlocked the door and slipped inside. The interior was faintly perfumed. He pressed the ignition, and the car hummed to life—silent as a whisper.

"Brilliant choice, Ego," Zack muttered in relief. An electric car meant it wouldn’t attract the zombies with noise, unlike a fuel-powered car that would immediately make him a target.

"If it weren't for you, I might have made that mistake and never left here alive," he said sincerely, realizing just how invaluable Ego's help had been.

"Sir, your safety is my top priority," Ego replied, his tone steady.

Zack took advantage of the quiet hum of the electric car, weaving through the streets unnoticed. Just as he was about to leave the complex, however, his luck ran out.

"Roar!"

The sound of a zombie echoed, followed by the shambling forms of the infected, alerted to his presence. Unlike the sluggish zombies from movies, the ones infected by the Zeta virus retained most of their physical abilities. They could run nearly as fast as normal people and had an unnatural, tireless endurance. For most survivors, getting caught without a vehicle meant certain death.

Luckily, Zack was prepared. "Good thing I listened to your advice about taking this car," he muttered, pressing down on the pedal.

The motor roared to life, and the car surged forward, nearly as loud as a gas-powered engine. The vehicle shot out of the approaching zombie swarm, narrowly escaping like an arrow from a bowstring.

"Turn left onto Greenwich Street," Ego directed.

The calm voice of his AI companion guided him. Ego helped Zack navigate, marking clear routes to avoid the most zombie-packed areas. Eventually, they reached a quieter, more remote road, and Zack allowed himself a brief moment of relief—though only slightly. The danger wasn’t over yet; he had merely escaped one trap and needed to plan his next move.

He couldn’t just drive around aimlessly. He needed to find somewhere safe and better armed. "Ego, can you access the security network and find the nearest weapons depot?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the road.

His makeshift weapons from the apartment wouldn’t cut it in the long run. Out here, he needed real firepower. In this world, other survivors could be just as dangerous as zombies, especially if they decided to turn on each other for supplies. He recalled an old saying, "If my neighbor’s stocking up on food, I’m stocking up on ammo—because their pantry might just become mine." Survival wasn’t just about supplies; it was about securing them.

"No problem, sir," Ego replied, and within half a second, he’d marked several red dots on the navigation screen.

"Most of these weapon caches are empty, but one still has a stock," Ego reported.

Zack felt a spark of hope, but frowned. "Only one left?" It made sense that others would’ve grabbed weapons after the outbreak, but an empty depot probably meant it wasn’t safe.

"Is it dangerous inside?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Ego replied. "The surveillance shows many zombies in the area, including some that appear more aggressive than usual."

Zack clenched his jaw. So this cache wasn’t an option. "What about something else?" he pressed.

After a quick search, Ego spoke again. "There’s a cash transport truck ten kilometers away. The guards have turned into zombies, but there are two shotguns and several rounds inside."

"Perfect! Can you lure the zombies away?" Zack asked.

Ego’s voice was confident. "Yes, sir. I can hack the city’s radio system to draw them to a different location."

Zack grinned. "Do it."

He sped along the route Ego recommended—a longer path but a safer one. He avoided clusters of zombies, occasionally accelerating past a few scattered infected without breaking pace. Before long, he reached the area near the truck.

Zack slowed down to assess the scene. The transport truck was parked on what had once been a busy pedestrian street, near an old school. A quick scan of the area revealed a staggering number of zombies. Hundreds of them milled around, stumbling over the deserted stretch.

"There must be at least a hundred zombies here," Zack muttered.

Ego responded immediately. "There are precisely 167 zombies in the open, sir, not counting those inside nearby buildings."

Zack let out a low whistle. Without Ego’s help, he’d be as good as zombie bait.

"Go ahead with the distraction," he said.