Though Arno was brimming with questions, time was not on his side for further queries to Zora. His incessant cries of shock had alerted the undead, sprawled out in the distant fields. Several zombies, garbed in worn-out, tattered clothing of robust peasants, staggered to their feet, ambling along the raised field path towards Arno. Post XR-virus infection, the undead's strength had magnified threefold that of an average human. Their only vulnerability was their sluggish pace.
As the zombies drew perilously close, Arno, overwhelmed, addressed the seemingly void presence of Zora, "Is thought the key to summoning you when required?" Zora confirmed, "Indeed. I manifest in two forms. One is the display form you currently witness, and the other is a conscious form."
With his question answered, Arno did not hesitate. The nauseating stench of decaying zombies was detectable, indicating they were a mere five or six meters away. In his panic, Arno activated the teleportation feature of his space-time watch through sheer force of thought. As the zombies lunged, ready to gnash at him, Arno's body began to fade, vanishing from the spot.
During the teleportation, Arno experienced a momentary blackout. After a few seconds, the darkness lifted, revealing that he was back in his single-bedroom apartment. Recognizing the familiar surroundings, Arno pinched his thigh hard, wincing at the sharp pain that followed. The cold sensation emanating from the jet-black watch on his wrist prompted him to curse aloud, "Damn, it's not a dream."
Following this exclamation, Arno slumped back onto the soft bed. Inhaling the faint scent of sweat from the bed linen, he was seized by a surreal sense of dislocation. Observing the time displayed on his watch corresponded to this world's time, the continually changing digits served as a grim reminder that his three hours were steadily ticking away.
Rising from his bed, Arno pushed open the room's windows, allowing the bright sunlight to stream in. Outside, retired senior officials were seated beneath the shade of trees, engrossed in chess and conversation. It was the usual working hours and considering his unexplained absence, he anticipated a lengthy lecture from his superiors. However, given his current predicament, continuing at the office seemed implausible.
Feeling a pang of hunger, Arno didn't want to waste his precious three hours cooking. He grabbed his wallet from the cabinet and rushed out of his apartment. As a civil servant, his salary wasn't substantial, but he had numerous bonuses. With a monthly income of seven to eight thousand from his salary and bonuses, Arno, not known for extravagant spending, had saved a decent sum over the two years of his employment. If he continued working for a few more years, he could afford a car.
However, did Arno still have the luxury to think about car ownership? In three hours, he would be teleported back to a post-apocalyptic world. Whether he would survive the zombie onslaught was uncertain. Hence, he decided to indulge in a lavish meal he had only dreamt of previously.
The eastern district of New Mountain city, housing many government institutions, also boasted numerous luxury hotels due to the frequent, extravagant, state-funded meals. Not far from the Statistics Bureau was a three-star hotel where Arno had dined once during a superior's grandchild's celebration. Naturally, the bill, amounting to several thousands, was charged to the office's account.
Given his time constraint, Arno quickly ordered a few signature dishes and a bottle of 1990 vintage red wine, feasting to his heart's content. He had planned on heading to his office later to apply for unpaid leave. He was confident that his superiors would approve his leave, as it would vacate a lucrative position, offering them a chance to place someone else in the role and pocket the sizable activity fee attached to it.
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Having spent nearly half an hour on his meal, leaving only 2 hours and 17 minutes of his time, Arno felt a twinge of regret. After settling the bill, he made a beeline for his office, determined not to squander his time on inconsequential matters.
The unexpected presence of Arno in the office aroused astonishment among his colleagues. Even upon encountering the boss, Arno was met with a stern countenance, as though a uniquely profound lecture had already been brewed within the leader's mind. Yet, when Arno voiced his desire for an unpaid leave of absence, the leader's face instantly broke into a wide grin. Everyone knew what such a proposal entailed in the current climate – with your salary suspended, your mere retention would be irrelevant. Anyone could dismiss you on a mere pretext.
In the office, Arno had nothing of substance to pack. He did feel a twinge of regret about the computer at his workstation, which held a treasure trove of interesting information. As Arno departed, his superior personally bid him farewell, expressing a ceaseless lamentation for his departure. A few colleagues also saw him off. Arno’s reason for leaving was straightforward - he planned to venture into business.
Upon returning to his apartment, Arno activated Zora's intelligent program with a thought. Zora, it seemed, was in the midst of a bath, and she didn't shy away from Arno's presence. She merely let the bathtub bubbles obscure her figure, shooting Arno a disdainful look, saying, “Didn't you notice I was bathing?” Arno's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. Even though the bubbles obstructed his view, he could still glimpse her faintly discernible immaculate skin and enchanting contours.
Arno hastily averted his gaze, exclaiming, "Does a program need to bathe?" Zora tossed another disdainful glance his way, retorting, "Though I am a program, my intelligence stems entirely from your dream lover, Zora." Continuing in a seductive tone, she added, "Besides, my body, the current bathing motions, and expressions are absolutely identical to your crush, Zora. Haven't you fantasized about this scenario countless times? If you don't look now, you might miss your chance…”
Zora's words stirred Arno's heart, and faced with his unrequited love, his resistance nearly crumbled. Nevertheless, he managed to suppress his desire, responding, “Alright, quit fooling around. We only have an hour and forty minutes left; I don't have time to spare.” Zora chuckled, stretching her slender arm to conjure a white curtain before commencing to dress behind it. Gazing at her magnificent silhouette cast onto the curtain, especially knowing she embodied his unrequited love, stirred an urge within Arno to rush forward and hold her in a passionate embrace. He felt a fleeting resentment towards the program, muttering inwardly, "If she continues to be this tempting every day, I'm bound to turn into a sex offender."
Soon, Zora was fully dressed, elegantly seated on a bamboo chair. Her post-bath radiance had Arno inadvertently swallowing hard. Zora, running her fingers through her wet hair, inquired, “Why the rush to summon me? Any issues? Or are you just overly missing your dream lover, wanting to see me to alleviate your longing?”
Arno felt utterly defeated by Zora. Raising his hands in surrender, he admitted, “Alright, I confess to all your accusations, OK?” Zora giggled at his response. Arno continued, “I just thought of a potential problem. What if the items I bring from the end-world carry a virus?" This was a crucial concern. If his items indeed carried the XR virus, Arno could hardly fathom the consequences.
Zora responded, “The XR virus only infects living entities, and the time-space watch will automatically scan and treat the time-space storage when initiating a transfer. Even if an item carries the XR virus, it will be eradicated, so there's no need to worry about bringing the XR virus here. But, I should point out that the scan doesn't include you. If you're infected, the time-space watch will halt the transfer function, ensuring it doesn’t disrupt this world's operations.”
Arno heaved a sigh of relief after hearing the explanation. He retracted Zora back into his watch, stuffing several bottles of soda, packs of instant noodles, and sausages from his fridge into his storage space. After some consideration, he added a steel pot – he certainly couldn't eat raw noodles. Essential comfort items like cigarettes and alcohol were, of course, not forgotten. The added items nearly filled the cubic meter of storage. Arno had pondered the situation; in the end-world where he had to spend 21 hours, he couldn't survive without food or drink. Based on what he saw in the small town, finding something edible would likely be an exceptionally challenging task.
