It was almost 11 PM by the time Miles finally returned to the dorm. He stepped through the door, clad in a set of camouflaged military gear Paige had given him, a heavy duffel slung across his back.

  The room was still lit, filled with the familiar buzz of the overhead fluorescent light and... laughter? He blinked. Derek and the others were lounging around, playing cards and watching TV like it was a lazy Sunday evening.

  “You guys are unbelievable,” Miles said, exasperated, as he kicked the door shut behind him. “I’ve been out there risking my life, and you’re in here playing poker like it’s a damn vacation.”

  Derek stood up, cards in hand, and let out a low whistle. “Damn, look at you. That uniform’s actually doing you some favors—you almost look like a real soldier. What took you so long?”

  Miles rolled his eyes and tossed the duffel bag at him. “You think gathering this stuff is easy?”

  Derek caught it—well, tried to. The moment the bag hit his arms, his knees buckled from the unexpected weight. It thudded to the floor and landed squarely on his foot.

  “FUUUUUCK!” Derek screamed, hopping around on one leg like a wounded rooster. “What the hell is in that? A dead body?!”

  Nate leaned in, curious. “What the hell did you bring back, man?”

  The second he unzipped the bag, everyone’s eyes lit up.

  “Holy shit,” Nate muttered, pulling out a pistol. “Where did you even get this stuff? Are you moonlighting as a black market arms dealer or something?”

  The others rushed over, even Derek, who seemed to have completely forgotten about the pain in his foot. Inside the duffel was a small arsenal—military-grade pistols, assault rifles, combat knives, hand grenades, magazines, and even medical supplies.

  Holly stared, wide-eyed. “Miles, weren’t you an orphan or something? How the hell did you pull this off?”

  Miles peeled off his outer coat and tossed it over the back of a chair. “I’ve got connections in the military. A friend owed me a favor... the price was helping him rescue survivors from a hot zone.”

  Derek let out an impressed whistle. “Damn. And here I was, thinking I was the badass of the group.”

  The group settled in a circle around the gear like kids on Christmas morning. The girls, Holly and Emma, each took a handgun—they’d never handled weapons before, so pistols were their best bet.

  The guys, on the other hand, were practically drooling. Each grabbed an assault rifle and a sidearm, plus a combat knife and a couple of grenades. You’d think they were about to storm a military compound rather than survive a zombie apocalypse.

  Miles grabbed a towel and headed for the shower. Before closing the door, he called out, “Silas, Nate, make sure they know how to use the guns—and especially the grenades. One wrong move and we’ll be picking up limbs off the ceiling. Oh, and I brought five knives. One for each of us. They’re solid, trust me.”

  “Relax, man. We got this,” Nate said, already racking a magazine into an assault rifle. “Go scrub off that apocalypse grime.”

  Miles snorted and disappeared into the bathroom. He peeled off the remaining bandages and stared at himself in the mirror. No wounds. Not a scratch. His skin was smooth, unmarred.

  Leveling up really was miraculous. The moment he’d gained a level, all his injuries had vanished like they’d never been there.

  He stepped under the hot water, letting it wash away the grime and blood from earlier. If only he could control the timing of level-ups… he could use it in battle to instantly recover. A literal lifesaver. But the system was stingy. Level-ups came with experience and no shortcuts.

  After cleaning up, he opened the game interface and navigated to the store.

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  5000 points. That’s what it cost to purchase the Foxhunter Combat Set, one of the best early-game armors. High defense, lightweight, loaded with utility attachments for weapons and ammo. It looked like military gear, but it was made of advanced synthetic material that offered superior protection—especially against zombie claws.

  Now down to 48,400 credits, Miles equipped the gear. The Foxhunter pistol snapped into the holster on his hip. The matching assault rifle clipped onto the back mount. Extra magazines and grenades were tucked neatly into pouches along his waist.

  When he stepped out of the bathroom, fully geared, Derek screamed like a fan girl at a concert.

  “Oh my god, look at you! Why the hell didn’t you keep that for yourself earlier? This set is so damn cool. Is there more?!”

  Miles gave him a slow smile. “Take a guess.”

  Derek groaned. “Figures. Damn, I used to brag about all the hookups I had… but you? You’re the real underground king. I’ve been flexing like a fool in front of a silent beast.”

  Miles shrugged. “Wouldn’t have gotten this stuff under normal circumstances. Just lucky it’s the end of the world.”

  Nate chimed in, more serious. “Chicago’s lifted the firearms ban. All citizens are allowed to carry weapons now. The virus spread is worse than anyone thought. If the reinforcements hadn’t arrived tonight, this school would’ve been overrun.”

  Holly bit her lip. “You think this’ll end soon? Thirty thousand troops have been deployed. That’s gotta be enough to contain it, right?”

  Nate shook his head grimly. “It’s not natural. Someone released this virus. And if it reaches military ranks, we’re screwed. Worst case? Someone’s already made real bioweapons. Mutants. Like the ones in those movies.”

  A heavy silence fell.

  Miles nodded slowly. “Good analysis. But we’re not at bioweapons yet. The infection is spreading fast, yes—but once infected animals fully mutate? That’s when the real nightmare begins. Birds, for example. When they leave the forests and start hunting in cities… Chicago will fall.”

  Derek groaned. “Birds? Seriously? How the hell do we fight birds? You can’t shoot something that moves faster than your reflexes.”

  “Flamethrowers work, to a degree,” Nate said. “But realistically? We’re screwed.”

  Miles crossed his arms. “Our best bet is to stay indoors. Reinforce windows. They’re fast but not strong. Urban areas give us some cover. But if we need to escape Chicago… we’ll need a miracle.”

  The excitement from earlier faded. The girls clutched their pistols tighter. The reality of the situation was sinking in.

  Miles clapped his hands. “Alright, enough doom talk. Get some sleep. For all we know, the feds might issue an evacuation order tomorrow. Students like us might be in the first wave out.”

  They all nodded, some praying silently.

  The girls ended up clinging to their boyfriends that night, scared to sleep alone. That left Miles and Sam sharing the last bunk. Everyone slept in their clothes now—ready to run at a moment’s notice.

  Once the room fell quiet, Miles opened the interface again. The others couldn’t see it—it was like an augmented reality overlay only he could view. Sam wouldn’t even notice unless Miles started glowing.

  He searched for something specific: Thunderlight Grenades. Anti-avian tech that released high-voltage arcs upon sensing movement. Tossable or launcher-compatible. They weren’t cheap—50 credits each—but he wasn’t about to burn down another forest to escape birds again.

  He bought 100.

  Then came 400 magazines for the Foxhunter rifle—400 credits.

  Next, he found a Bluecrystal Claw Gauntlet: a forearm-mounted claw weapon with a built-in grappling hook. Range: 500 meters. Material: Bluecrystal—diamond-hard, with insane flexibility.

  Cost? 3000 credits.

  After that came the Evolution Serum Type I—boosts all attributes by 10. One use only. Cost: 10,000.

  Finally, the crown jewel: the Biometric Radar Goggles.

  These bad boys mapped all life forms within a 10 km radius. Combat strength levels were color-coded: green for weaker, yellow for close threats, red for dangerous, and black for suicidal.

  White dots were normal humans, gold marked unique individuals, and purple was reserved for teammates. It even included a satellite map and built-in communication system with independent frequency settings.

  Cost? 20,000 credits.

  He had just enough left for one more item: the Micro Railgun.

  Strapped to the arm, it could fire a single electromagnetic pulse capable of obliterating targets up to 3 km away.

  Micro Railgun I

  Attack Power: 5000

  Range: 3000 meters

  Ammo Capacity: 1 shot

  Ammo Cost: 500 credits per shot

  Miles closed the interface and took a deep breath. Quietly, he pulled the Evolution Serum from his inventory and turned his back to Sam.

  The needle slipped into his arm with a hiss.

  Heat. Pain. Every nerve lit up like wildfire. His body convulsed, muscles twisting and strengthening in seconds. He clenched his teeth, trembling until the sensation faded, drenched in sweat.

  It was worth it.

  Miles – Demon Hunter Lv. 28

  Experience: 13%

  Strength: 23

  Agility: 34

  Endurance: 25

  Spirit: 23

  Greedfang Lv. 7 – 52%

  Attack: 400

  Special Skill: Devour

  He was stronger now. Faster. The edge of god-tier power from his old gaming days.

  Sam stirred beside him. “Miles? You okay?”

  Miles wiped his brow and chuckled. “Yeah, probably just some bad dinner. Gonna hit the bathroom.”

  He darted off, locking the door behind him, then sat on the toilet, quietly wiping off the sweat.

  Tomorrow... everything could change again.