As Miles descended to the second basement level, distant gunfire and the metallic crashes of something battering machinery reached his ears. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the noise. It wasn't out of concern for the soldiers—he simply needed to complete his task before the military could lock the place down.
Closing in, he caught sight of the mutated zombie from behind. Three special ops members had managed to corner it, but they were in terrible shape. One soldier had three bloody gashes across his back. The captain's arm was slashed. Only the woman seemed relatively unharmed.
The moment Miles appeared, the mutant whirled around with a furious roar. Miles responded instantly, firing three rapid shots. The bullets sliced through the air, leaving spiraling trails in their wake. The zombie shielded its face with a clawed hand, blood bursting from three new wounds.
Seizing the opportunity, the three soldiers opened fire on the creature's exposed back. Roaring in pain, the zombie staggered but then lunged straight at the wounded team.
The soldiers tried to retreat, half-carrying each other, but their injuries made them painfully slow. Just as the monster was about to close in, Miles fired again, expertly placing shots into the creature's left temple, neck, and shoulder. The mutant staggered forward, smashing headfirst into a metal gas canister, leaving a deep dent.
While the zombie reeled, Miles emptied his remaining six rounds into its back, each bullet exploding in a spray of blackish blood. Caleb, moving with supernatural agility, swapped weapons to the Greed Blade. With a burst of speed, he vaulted onto the monster’s back and drove the blade deep into the base of its skull. Black veins rapidly spread from the wound.
The mutant screamed, flailing violently. It threw Caleb off like a ragdoll, then, instead of finishing off the soldiers, it turned and fled at terrifying speed.
Miles slammed into another gas canister from the impact, his vision swimming. As he struggled to stay conscious, a system notification blinked in his mind:
Mutated Zombie (Evolved)
Strength: 8
Agility: 4
Constitution: 30
Spirit: 1
Miles groaned, shaking his head. No wonder that thing nearly knocked him out cold. With eight times the strength of a normal human, a casual throw from it could easily be fatal. His only saving grace was his upgraded Constitution.
At that moment, the special ops captain, Marshall, limped over. "You're the one who helped us, right? What the hell are you doing here?"
Miles gave them a cool glance. "You should focus on treating your wounds. If you can't purge the toxin, you won't last twelve hours."
Marshall’s expression hardened. "What's your connection to this outbreak? How do you know so much? If you don't answer properly, I'll have to treat you as a suspect—or eliminate you on the spot."
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Miles smirked. "Worry about surviving tonight first. If you're still breathing next time we meet, maybe then I’ll answer."
Before they could react, Miles darted behind a nearby gas tank and vanished. Ben raised his weapon, but Marshall stopped him with a weary shake of his head. "Save your ammo. That guy's speed is insane. In our condition, we don't stand a chance of catching him."
Paige helped support the wounded men. "Reinforcements must be here by now. Let's get you out before you bleed out."
The team nodded and limped toward the exit.
Meanwhile, Miles surfaced at the ground-level warehouse just in time to see the mutated zombie cornered by military forces outside. Dozens of soldiers surrounded it with heavy firepower ready. It had nowhere to run.
When the creature spotted Miles, it let out a furious roar and charged, perhaps realizing it was doomed.
Miles calmly aimed and fired, but the monster leapt into the air, dodging the bullets with shocking speed, then dove straight at him.
Instead of retreating, Miles dashed forward, slipping under the beast’s legs. As they passed each other, Miles spun and unloaded a volley straight into its chin, chest, and groin. The impacts sent the mutant crashing into the ground with a sickening thud.
Without missing a beat, Miles leapt onto its back and, with one brutal thrust, drove the Greed Blade into the back of its skull. The zombie shrieked horribly as dark veins enveloped its brainstem, its life force rapidly devoured.
Within seconds, the monster's body withered like a deflated balloon.
Hearing soldiers rushing toward the warehouse, Miles yanked the blade free and sprinted for a ventilation shaft. He dove inside just as the military burst through the doors. They swarmed the warehouse but failed to notice the fleeting shadow slipping away through the vents.
Outside, the area around Xikon Pharmaceuticals was in chaos. News reporters swarmed the perimeter, drawn by the sounds of gunfire and the sensational footage captured earlier that day. The Chicago media scene was already ablaze with rumors.
Miles blended into the crowd of journalists and slipped away unnoticed, hopping into a cab.
No one gave a second glance. In a city full of young men like him, he was just another face in the crowd.
Back at his dorm around 4 a.m., Miles showered, collapsed into bed, and studied the Greed Blade.
"Damn, this blade is a beast," he muttered, admiring the weapon. "The upgrade only boosted its attack, but it's ridiculous—150 attack power. My Desert Eagle only has 35. This thing can slice through solid steel like it’s tofu."
He grinned, remembering the 500 game credits he'd earned from the mission.
Time to spend it wisely.
Opening the system's marketplace, he browsed through the available items. His eyes quickly landed on a pair of sleek black bracers. They housed a 200-meter carbon drill cable for rapid ascension or escape and boasted excellent forearm protection.
Without hesitation, he spent 350 credits on the bracers. Then, with his remaining credits, he bought a lightweight bulletproof vest for 120 credits and stocked up on thirty boxes of ammo at 1 credit each.
Feeling satisfied, Miles stretched out on the bed and fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Around 11 a.m., a loud banging on his dorm door yanked him awake.
Groggy, Miles peeked through the peephole—it was his usual bunch of troublemakers.
He opened the door.
"Miles! Dude! You won't believe it!" Derek burst in, breathless. "Xikon Pharmaceuticals just got attacked! Hundreds dead! Over forty police officers and a dozen specialists too! The whole site's under military lockdown!"
Miles yawned, grabbing his toothbrush. "Yeah, yeah. I heard already. No need to shout. You planning to go fight terrorists or something?"
Nate barged in, flipping on the TV. "You're not even curious? Hundreds dead, man! The morgues are overflowing!"
Jamie, spitting out his mouthwash, grimaced. "Are they insane? Keeping all those corpses packed together? They're just begging for another outbreak."
Derek raised an eyebrow. "What outbreak? You’ve been watching too many zombie movies, man. Go finish brushing."
Miles rolled his eyes. "You guys only come by when you're broke. Otherwise, you’d be off chasing girls."
Suddenly, Nate shouted, "Holy crap! They're arresting Victor—the CEO of Xikon! He was supposed to be a victim! Is he in on this?"
Hearing that, Miles hastily wiped his face and hurried over. On the TV, Victor was being shoved into a police van, surrounded by SWAT officers.
Miles narrowed his eyes. "Looks like I'll need to visit the police station this afternoon."
Derek clapped him on the back. "Enough drama. Let’s go eat. I'm starving."
Reluctantly, Miles followed them to the fanciest restaurant near campus.
When he saw the posh private room they entered, he frowned. "You guys trying to bankrupt me?"
Nate chuckled. "Relax. We're not paying. Someone else is."
Confused, Miles stepped inside—and froze.
Aria was there, along with a few unfamiliar faces.
He frowned. "What the hell is going on here?"