When they reached the back door, they found the outside completely surrounded by military forces. Armored vehicles, armed soldiers, and temporary barricades formed an inescapable wall. Miles cast a sidelong glance at Victor, his voice low and steady.
“You walk out there and say you're a survivor, they’ll just quarantine you for a bit. After that, you’re free,” he said. His tone was almost casual, but his eyes were hard. “Everyone in this station who knew you is dead. Those troops out there? They don't know your face.”
Miles’s voice dropped into something far colder. “Now tell me where the 'Genesis' serum is. I’ll believe you once. Just once. Lie to me, and I’ll make sure the virus floods this entire city. You won't live to regret crossing me.”
Victor clenched his fists, glaring at Miles with fury. But after a long, heavy silence, he let out a ragged sigh.
“Alright, fine. I’m just a regular guy. I never wanted any part of this nightmare. After I find my family, I’m disappearing into the countryside. Somewhere no one will find me.” He looked Miles dead in the eye. “But you have to promise me—whoever has the serum, you won't hurt them.”
Miles shrugged lightly. “As long as they don't attack me or try to deceive me, they’ll be safe. I said I’d believe you once. I meant it.”
Victor hesitated for a heartbeat before answering. “The one you’re looking for is Tobias, the director of the Chicago United Military Medical Center. I handed the serum to him.”
Miles gave a small nod, satisfaction flashing in his eyes. Without another word, he turned and strode back into the desolate station.
Victor watched him disappear, then turned on his heel and pushed through the back door. Instantly, a dozen rifles were pointed at him.
“I’m a survivor!” Victor shouted, raising his hands high in the air.
From a window above, Miles watched as Victor was quickly secured and escorted away by soldiers. Only then did he open his system interface. The second mission was finally complete.
New Mission Unlocked:
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Find Ronan within three days and uncover his organization's secrets.
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Reward: 1000 Game Credits
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Failure: Mission will be canceled.
Miles quickly switched over to the trading menu. With 800 new Game Credits to spend, it was time to prepare properly.
Facing Crawlers in close combat was suicide. Unlike regular zombies, Crawlers could take multiple hits and still come at you. Meanwhile, a single scratch from them meant infection and certain death.
After browsing through the inventory, Miles made his selections carefully. First, he bought five high-explosive throwing darts. Each dart detonated three seconds after impact with the force of a hand grenade. Cost: 20 credits each.
Next, he picked a powerful new weapon: the Vulpes Assault Rifle, priced at a hefty 600 credits. The rifle came equipped with an under-barrel grenade launcher capable of firing specialized rounds.
Vulpes Assault Rifle
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Attack: 75
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Fire Rate: 15 rounds/sec
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Magazine Size: 60 rounds
Grenade Launcher Ammo Types:
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High-Explosive Rounds: 200 Attack (Area Damage)
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Acid Rounds: 120 Attack (Damage Over Time)
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Flashbangs: Blind + Stun
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Smoke Bombs: Tear Gas + Obscure Vision
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Incendiary Rounds: 150 Attack (Burn Damage)
Miles whistled low in appreciation. As expected from a system-generated weapon—it was in a whole different league. Real-world rifles could never dream of such raw firepower. Even a customized Desert Eagle only had an attack stat of 35.
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Lastly, he spent the remaining 100 credits on ammunition: fifty magazines (1 credit each) and ten rounds each of every grenade type (1 credit per grenade). Without the system’s infinite inventory space, he would’ve needed a truck to haul all of it.
Fully armed and radiating excitement, Miles headed deeper into the building.
The station was deserted now. When he reached the holding cells, he intended to release a few prisoners to use as bait. But the sight that greeted him soured his plans.
The iron doors were bent inward. Blood and shredded bodies littered the floor. The prisoners were already dead—torn apart by Crawlers.
Miles clicked his tongue in frustration. "Damn. Would’ve made perfect bait."
Instead, he drew his Desert Eagle and fired several rounds into the corridor. The loud reports echoed through the empty station, baiting the monsters.
Sure enough, guttural growls answered his challenge.
Miles readied a high-explosive dart, crouching behind a corner. There was only one way into the holding area—the long, narrow hallway ahead of him.
As the first Crawler slithered into view, Miles turned his back deliberately, pretending to be unaware. In reality, he watched the creature’s reflection in a shattered mirror opposite him.
The moment the Crawler was within ten meters, Miles spun sharply, hurling the dart.
The dart embedded itself in the Crawler’s shoulder.
Without waiting for the three-second timer, Miles dove sideways into an empty cell.
The Crawler lunged after him—but it was too large to squeeze through the bent frame. It crashed against the iron doorway with a screech of rage.
BOOM!
The explosion shredded the creature’s right arm and tore open its torso. Burning flesh and shards of bone slammed against the makeshift shield Miles had fashioned from a metal bed frame.
Without hesitation, Miles shoved the frame aside, raised the Vulpes Assault Rifle, and unleashed a hail of bullets.
The maimed Crawler had no chance. A dozen rounds smashed into its skull before it finally collapsed, twitching in its death throes.
Miles finished it off with a thrown Greedblade, the enchanted dagger slicing into its brainstem like it was soft butter.
A black mist of corrupted blood erupted from the wound as the Crawler’s body deflated like a punctured balloon.
System Message:
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Greedblade upgraded to Level 3.
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Attack Power: 200
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Special Ability: Devour
Miles checked his experience bar—it had jumped to 81%. One more Crawler and he'd level up again.
He was about to fire more shots to lure in more prey when sudden explosions and gunfire erupted from the station’s lobby.
Miles sprinted towards the chaos.
Bursting into the lobby, he saw a full Special Forces unit unloading everything they had into a single Crawler. Bullets, grenades, even grenade launcher rounds.
Despite its monstrous agility, even a Crawler couldn't withstand that much firepower.
With a final, guttural shriek, the monster collapsed, riddled with holes, its flesh torn apart.
Miles gritted his teeth in frustration.
Damn it. So much precious XP, wasted by these trigger-happy idiots.
More soldiers poured into the building. Realizing that further hunting was now impossible, Miles quickly stowed his weapons and hid inside a battered metal locker.
Minutes passed.
Then, he heard footsteps. Someone entered the room.
Miles gently kicked the side of the locker, creating a soft metallic sound.
Immediately, he heard rifles being raised and a sharp bark: “Who’s there? Come out, hands in the air!”
Miles cautiously pushed open the locker door, hands raised high. His face was a mask of fear.
“I’m human! Don’t shoot!” he pleaded.
A soldier grabbed him roughly, patting him down for weapons. Satisfied, he gave a grunt.
“Lucky bastard,” he muttered. “Looks like you’re the only one who survived.”
Another soldier spoke into his radio.
“Survivor located. Preparing for extraction.”
“You’re coming with us,” said the first one. “We need to get you checked for infection.”
Miles nodded, plastering a look of relief on his face. He followed the soldiers out of the building.
But just as they stepped into the open, a black blur shot past them.
The lead soldier’s head was torn clean off, his body collapsing with a wet thud.
“Contact! Hostile entity! Requesting backup!” the remaining soldiers shouted, spraying bullets wildly.
But the creature was already gone.
Miles was shoved into the nearest office and ordered to stay put.
Minutes later, a flood of heavily armed soldiers arrived. Seeing the fresh corpse, their faces twisted in rage.
“Secure the survivor. The rest of you—hunt that bastard down!” barked their commander.
Miles was whisked outside, where medical personnel immediately began scanning him for infections.
After a tense few minutes, the medic gave a relieved smile.
“You’re clear, kid. No bites, no scratches. You’re one lucky son of a bitch.”
Miles managed a shaky laugh.
“Doc… am I gonna be okay? I mean... mentally?”
The medic gave a knowing chuckle.
“Depends on your guts, kid. If you’ve got a strong mind, you’ll pull through. If not…” He trailed off with a shrug. “Try to think of it like a bad horror movie.”
Miles nodded weakly.
Soon after, three soldiers in full combat gear approached him.
“You’re Miles, right?” the officer barked. “You’re going into mandatory quarantine. One week. Standard procedure.”
Miles didn’t argue. He was loaded into a military truck alongside other survivors—including Victor, who looked pale and shaken.
Victor caught Miles’s eye but quickly looked away, pretending not to know him.
Miles just smirked internally.
Smart move, buddy.
As the truck rumbled away, another burst of gunfire and explosions echoed from behind them.
Back at the police station, the final Crawlers were being hunted down and annihilated.
The soldiers secured the site, placing armed guards every few meters. Medical teams moved in to sanitize the gruesome scene.
Meanwhile, Miles’s group was headed toward the Chicago First Military Medical Center.
Due to outbreaks at both the First and United Military Centers, all survivors were being consolidated for quarantine.
Inside the facility, soldiers stood at attention every few meters, rifles ready.
If even one infection broke out, they would shoot without hesitation.
Miles leaned back against the metal wall of the truck, a wry smile playing at his lips.
Welcome to the new world, kid. Hope you survive the ride.