Without hesitation, Miles threw himself down beside a mutilated body, pressing himself flat against the cold, blood-slick tiles. He forced his breathing into shallow, silent gasps, willing himself to be as still as the dead.
Two squads of tactical officers swept into view, their boots heavy against the floor.
"How’s the sweep on your end?" one of them asked, voice muffled behind a gas mask.
"All clear. Nothing left moving."
"Good. Have the cleanup crews move in. We don't want these things getting back up. And make sure anyone who’s been bitten is quarantined," the squad leader said, a grim heaviness in his voice.
As they talked, a few officers vented their anger, kicking at the corpses with vicious force. One boot landed squarely against Miles’s ribs, pain flaring so sharply that he almost cried out. He bit down hard on the fabric of his sleeve, tasting blood as he fought to remain silent. If not for the body armor he wore, that furious kick could have shattered his spine.
The soldiers finally moved on, continuing their grim patrol. Only after their footsteps faded into the distance did Miles dare to move. He rose cautiously, face pale and twisted in anger. That kick had nearly given him away—and nearly broken him.
Steeling himself, he crept toward the detention wing. Ahead, he spotted four police officers stationed outside, each armed with military-grade submachine guns. Miles quickly ducked into an adjacent room, pressing himself against the wall, waiting for an opportunity.
Suddenly, alarms blared through the building, followed by frantic shouts.
"Emergency at chicago united military medical center! The bodies are reanimating!"
Chaos erupted. At that very moment, in the derelict old detention area behind the police station, a green light atop a small container turned crimson. With a deafening bang, the metal crate burst open.
From within, four grotesque creatures scrambled out—mutated zombies that had evolved far beyond their original human forms. They crawled on all fours, their limbs grotesquely enlarged, muscles bulging unnaturally. Their human heads seemed almost comically small compared to their massive bodies, except for their mouths, which had mutated into cavernous maws filled with twenty-centimeter-long fangs.
The creatures moved with terrifying speed, scattering in different directions. Within seconds, they leapt through shattered windows, infiltrating the police station.
Inside, a team of cleanup workers caught sight of one of the monsters. Panic gripped them instantly; they turned to flee, but it was too late. A colossal claw impaled one man from behind, lifting him off the ground like a ragdoll. Before the others could scream, the monster tore into them, consuming brains and organs with horrifying efficiency.
Gunfire and screams filled the station.
The remaining tactical units rushed toward the commotion. What they found was a slaughterhouse—mangled corpses strewn across the floor. Dread settled heavily over them. They had seen creatures like this before—back at the Xikang Pharmaceutical Facility.
"Request immediate backup! We have evolved infected in the building!" the squad leader barked into his radio.
As the team attempted to regroup, a black blur dropped from the ceiling. By the time they raised their weapons, the creature was already among them. Massive claws tore through a soldier's midsection, severing him clean in half. Bullets sprayed wildly, some hitting their target, but most lodging uselessly in the walls and ceiling.
The squad leader shouted, "Aim for the head—!"
But his command was cut short as a claw burst through his chest. He stared down at it, wide-eyed and horrified. Before he could even turn to look, the creature clamped its monstrous jaws around his skull, crushing it in a spray of blood and brain matter.
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"Captain—!" someone screamed.
The surviving officers fired desperately, but their bullets barely slowed the monsters down. The creatures moved too fast, weaving through the confined corridors with inhuman agility. Within moments, the squad was annihilated, torn apart in a frenzy of claws and fangs.
Across the station, gunfire and screams erupted like wildfire.
The four officers guarding the detention block abandoned their posts in terror, leaving the prisoners locked behind their cells, pounding on the bars and shouting for release.
Miles seized the chaos.
He dashed toward the detention wing, slicing through the padlock with his Greedblade. The small jail was divided into several cells. In two of them, desperate prisoners hammered at the doors, pleading for freedom.
Miles passed them without pity, sneering coldly.
"Stay put. You'll make excellent experience points later," he muttered.
Ignoring their furious curses, he reached a cell at the far end where Victor sat calmly, almost expectantly. The man looked up at him and sneered.
"Let me guess. You let those monsters in, didn't you? Coming to tie up loose ends?"
Miles narrowed his eyes but said nothing. If Victor wanted to mistake him for one of the virus smugglers, all the better.
"Where is the Genesis Serum?" Miles demanded coldly.
Victor laughed bitterly.
"You want to destroy the evidence, huh? Dream on. I asked for a cure. You gave me a death sentence. I made sure the serum is safe—with someone I trust. It'll be handed over to the authorities. And when the world finds out what you did, you're finished."
Miles’s expression didn't change. Instead, he pulled out a syringe filled with ominous purple liquid.
"This," he said, voice like ice, "is a strain far stronger than Genesis. We call it the King's Virus. If I inject you, you'll become a Zombie King—powerful beyond imagination. But the price? You'll hunt down your closest blood relatives—parents, siblings, children. Nothing will stop you but missile strikes or worse. Sound fun?"
Victor recoiled in horror, his bravado crumbling.
"You monsters! Get away from me!" he screamed, lunging at Miles.
Miles raised his modified Desert Eagle and aimed it squarely at Victor’s head.
"Dead or alive, it doesn’t matter to me. The dead mutate even faster. But if you cooperate, I'll let you and your family live."
Victor hesitated, trembling with fury and fear. After a long, tense moment, he spat,
"Fine. The guy who sold me the serum is named Charles. He’s still in Chicago. Last I saw him, he was hiding at Serenity Heights, Building Five, Apartment 702."
Ding!
Miles heard the soft chime of a system notification: Secondary Mission Complete.
"Good," Miles said with a thin smile. "And if you want your family to survive, you’ll tell me where the Genesis Serum is."
Victor clenched his fists.
"I want out of here first. I don’t trust you bastards."
Miles frowned slightly but then nodded.
"Fine. Follow me."
They slipped cautiously into the corridor. No sooner had they exited the detention block than Miles spotted a crawler zombie clinging to the ceiling, its grotesque eyes fixed on them.
"Get back inside. Now," Miles barked.
Victor needed no further encouragement. He bolted back into the cell as Miles leveled his gun.
He fired in rapid succession, his enhanced reflexes—bolstered by a 1.6 Spirit stat—allowing pinpoint accuracy. The bullets punched into the crawler’s grotesque body, splattering blood, but barely slowing it down.
The monster lunged.
Miles reacted instantly, diving forward rather than backward. The crawler misjudged and sailed over him. As it passed, Miles slashed upward with his Greedblade, cutting a deep gash through the creature’s abdomen.
It crashed to the floor, writhing and shrieking, viscera spilling onto the tiles.
Miles didn’t hesitate. He emptied his clip into the monster’s head at point-blank range. Flesh and bone gave way under the barrage, and the crawler convulsed violently.
Seizing the moment, Miles leapt onto its back and drove the Greedblade deep into its skull.
"You'll make a fine sacrifice for my blade’s evolution," he muttered.
The creature’s body shriveled rapidly, its grotesque musculature withering as the blade absorbed its life force. In seconds, it was nothing but a skeletal husk with oversized claws.
A surge of warmth coursed through Miles’s body as he leveled up.
Miles, Apprentice Demon Hunter – LV4
Experience: 31%
Strength: 1.3
Agility: 3.5
Constitution: 2.2
Spirit: 1.8
Greedblade – LV2
Experience: 88%
He checked the dead crawler’s stats with a glance:
Crawler Zombie (Mutant Form)
Strength: 8
Agility: 5
Constitution: 40
Spirit: 0.3
No wonder it had been so hard to kill. A Constitution stat of 40 made it nearly bulletproof compared to normal infected.
Miles grinned faintly.
"Hunting stronger prey really does pay off. One kill and I leveled up—and Greedblade’s almost ready for the next stage."
Behind him, Victor stared in shock, mouth agape. Watching Miles effortlessly dispatch such a monstrosity, he realized with chilling certainty—this man was no ordinary human.
The prisoners, too, fell silent in their cells, terror etched onto their faces. Whether monster or man, to them, Miles was something far more dangerous.