As I retreated from the cafeteria, the Zombie Chef in close pursuit, the school's hallways became the new arena for our macabre dance. The narrow corridors echoed with the sounds of our deadly chase. The moonlight that filtered through the windows cast eerie shadows.

I moved swiftly, my enhanced agility allowing me to navigate the twists and turns of the hallways with ease. The Zombie Chef, in contrast, lumbered heavily behind me, its movements cumbersome but driven by an insatiable hunger.

I turned a corner and positioned myself. The distance between us gave me the advantage I needed. With precise aim, I launched a javelin towards the pursuing horror. The javelin pierced its flesh with a sickening squelch, magnified in the quiet of the night. Green blood spurted from its wound, a vivid and unnatural color against the dull hues of the hallway.

The Zombie Chef let out a roar of frustration, the sound echoing off the walls. It was a cry of anger and pain. It appeared to be displeased with its inability to keep up with my newfound speed. I could see the rage in its milky white eyes, and the desperation to close the distance between us.

I continued moving, always keeping a safe distance while launching another javelin. The sound of it striking the creature was a dull thud, followed by more of the grotesque green blood oozing from the wound. The Zombie Chef's movements became more erratic, its efforts to reach me growing increasingly futile.

With each successful strike, I felt a surge of adrenaline. The Zombie Chef, now heavily wounded, let out another roar, this one tinged with desperation. It was clear that it was struggling, its body not able to keep up with the damage it was sustaining. The green blood that trailed behind it was an indication of its waning strength.

As I prepared to launch another javelin, I realized that this battle was nearing its end. The Zombie Chef was now just moments away from being defeated. I held the final javelin in my hand, ready to be launched. The Zombie Chef, its breath ragged and its steps faltering, seemed to sense its impending doom as well. It made one last desperate attempt to reach me, but it was obvious that its strength was fading too fast.

I took a deep breath and released the javelin. It flew through the air, a perfect arc towards its target. The impact was decisive, the sound echoing through the hallways. The Zombie Chef staggered and let out its last roar, the force of the blow too much for it to handle. With a final cry of frustration, it collapsed to the ground, its body still for the first time since the encounter.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the sound of my own heavy breathing. But not long after, the profound silence was interrupted by the familiar blue glow of the System's interface. The screen materialized in front of me, lighting up the dimly lit corridor. A sense of accomplishment washed over me as I read the notification:

Congratulations!

You've reached Level 16!

5 new stat points are available.

The adrenaline from the battle slowly subsided as I relaxed. I decided to not allocate the newly acquired stat points right away, and save them for later, for when I really need them.

As I stood there, contemplating my next move, my eyes fell upon the meat cleaver that the Zombie Chef had wielded. It lay there on the ground as if it was asking to be picked up. The cleaver, still stained with blood, seemed to hold a macabre allure. I approached it cautiously, recognizing its potential usefulness.

Picking it up, I felt its weight and balance. It was a good weapon, solid and sharp, perfect for close-range combat. Despite its grisly look, it was a practical tool for survival. I decided to keep it as a backup weapon.

With the cleaver secured at my side, my thoughts turned to my companions. They were still hiding in the classroom we last met, unaware of the battle I had just faced. They must be hungry, and perhaps even worried about my long absence. I needed to get back to them, but not before securing some food first.

Determined, I made my way back to the cafeteria, the place where I had first encountered the Zombie Chef. As I entered the kitchen of the cafeteria, I saw utensils and ingredients scattered about, a scene of the creature's last moments of pseudo-normalcy. I began to rummage through the shelves and refrigerators, looking for anything that could be salvaged for a meal.

To my relief, I found packets of non-perishable food, canned goods, and even some fresh oranges that had somehow managed to remain intact amidst the chaos. I gathered as much as I could carry, thinking of my companions' relief and happiness at the sight of food.

With my arms heavily laden with supplies, I cautiously began my journey back to the classroom where my companions were hiding. The substantial weight of the food and supplies complicated my situation. While I could, in theory, drop the provisions to defend myself, the precious seconds lost in doing so left me vulnerable. Thus, armed combat was a risky last resort. My best strategy under these circumstances was to rely on stealth to navigate the zombie-infested hallways.

As I moved, I kept to the darker parts of the hallways, using the moonlight's sporadic illumination to my advantage. The moonlight, casting ghostly silhouettes, created pockets of darkness that I used to conceal my presence. Every creak of the floor under my weight, every rustle of the food packets in my arms, seemed to be amplified in the silence, making me slightly nervous.

There were moments when I had to press myself against the wall, holding my breath as zombies shuffled past. Their groans and the sound of their dragging feet were unnervingly close, sending slight chills down my spine. I could see their silhouettes, a grotesque parade of the undead, unaware of my presence even when they were mere feet away.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally reached the door to the classroom where my companions were hiding.