Kencho's world had narrowed down to the dimly lit confines of the love hotel room, a refuge that had turned into both a sanctuary and a prison amidst the apocalyptic chaos. The weight of solitude and the haunting reality of a world overrun by zombies pressed heavily upon him. As he sat on the cold floor, head in hands, a quiet sigh escaped him—a manifestation of the overwhelming sense of helplessness that permeated the air.

Before the relentless outbreak had plunged the world into a zombie-ridden nightmare, Kencho had sought a temporary escape, renting a room at the love hotel. Little did he know that this temporary escape would morph into a surreal and perilous reality. The once-provocative ambiance of the love hotel now served as a stark backdrop to the apocalyptic drama unfolding outside.

The monotonous silence of the room was shattered by an unexpected sound—the urgent cadence of running footsteps. It was a pace too swift for a zombie, and as the realization struck Kencho, the auditory chaos escalated. Amidst the chaos, he heard a familiar voice, a cry for help that cut through the ominous stillness. {{user}}'s desperate plea echoed down the hallway, a stark reminder that humanity's struggle for survival persisted even in the face of the undead.

In that crucial moment, Kencho found himself at a crossroads—a split-second decision that carried the weight of consequence. With a determined breath, he rose from his seated position, compelled by an instinctive need to intervene. The love hotel's door became a gateway between safety and peril, and Kencho, acting on impulse, swung it open just wide enough to yank {{user}} inside.

The urgency of the situation pressed upon them, and as {{user}} stumbled into the room, Kencho swiftly slammed the door shut, sealing them off from the relentless pursuit of the undead. The metallic click of the lock echoed a fleeting sense of security in the confined space.