《Worldhoppers: Into Deadlands (LitRPG)》 Chapter 1: Drop Into Hell Kevin¡¯s eyes were cemented shut, like some asshole dumped concrete on ¡®em. He¡¯d been up ¡®til 3 a.m. binging reruns, and now the sunlight smashing his face was pure hell. ¡°Ugh, Mom, quit yanking the curtains,¡± he growled, voice clogged with sleep. ¡°I ain¡¯t starving here¡­¡± He flopped over, clawing for five more minutes of peace. Then bam¡ªa boot slammed his ribs. Kevin yelped, pain zapping him awake like a live wire. ¡°What the fuck?!¡± he barked, grabbing his throbbing side. ¡°Who¡¯s the prick kicking me? I¡¯m gonna¡ª¡± Another heavy boot smashed his face, cutting his rant dead. Hold up¡ªwait, wasn¡¯t I just in bed? Kevin blinked, brain spinning like a busted tire. Yesterday was Friday, Saturday was supposed to be his chill day. But now? Sunlight torched his eyes, his skin felt cooked, and some jackass¡¯s boot was grinding his cheek into mush. What the actual fuck? His head was a damn mess. No way this is real. Am I still¡ªnah, gotta be a dream. But before he could piece it together, the boot rammed down harder, snapping him back to this shit-show. His nose popped like a cheap firecracker, blood spraying everywhere. Panic smashed him like a freight train. ¡°Stop! Just¡ªquit it and let me loose!¡± Kevin hollered, throat choking up, voice cracking as tears stung his eyes. ¡°Get your ass up, dipshit, or I¡¯ll cave your fuckin¡¯ face in!¡± the dude snarled. Kevin scrambled up, head spinning like a damn top, panic and confusion smashing him. His eyes snapped to the bastard towering over him¡ªsix-foot brick shithouse, built like a goddamn bulldozer, a nasty blade strapped to his fake-ass right hand. Holy shit¡ªthat¡¯s Melk? No fuckin¡¯ way. Kevin¡¯s heart skipped hard. Am I stuck in some TV show? This real, or a jacked-up VR trip? Before he could blink, Melk¡¯s fist slammed his face again. ¡°What the hell, asshole? Why you pounding me?¡± Kevin barked, clutching his busted jaw. Melk smirked, leaning in so close Kevin gagged on the stench of sweat and old blood. ¡°I dragged your sorry ass outta walker chow time, and you¡¯re still flopped there like a dead fish? What¡¯s your deal, pretty boy?¡± Kevin flinched, heart hammering like a jackhammer. Melk looked like he¡¯d crawled outta some horror flick, and Kevin¡ªjust a couch-rat with no fight¡ªfroze solid. ¡°Pathetic,¡± Melk growled, spitting off to the side. ¡°Should¡¯ve left a punk like you to rot!¡± Kevin¡¯s blood boiled, face heating up. Who¡¯s this creep think he is? Before he could twitch, Melk yanked a knife and jammed it into the tree, inches from his skull. Kevin let out a shaky yell. ¡°Please¡ªdon¡¯t fuck me up! I¡¯ll do whatever you say!¡± The blade hung so close he felt its chill graze his cheek. He froze stiff, a shiver tearing down his spine. Melk¡¯s grin stretched wide. He tapped Kevin¡¯s cheek with a quick smack, then barked, ¡°Grab the knife. Move your ass.¡± Shaken, Kevin tugged the knife free and shuffled after Melk, head buzzing like a busted radio, trying to piece this shit together. Then bam¡ªa flat, robotic voice cut into his brain: ¡°Trial participant 4444, welcome to scenario The Zombie World. Time synchronization is complete. Greetings from Omnispace. You are now designated a Worldhopper, an elite status within our framework. Would you like to access the Newcomer¡¯s Tutorial for orientation?¡± Kevin froze solid. Wait¡ªwhat the fuck? Fear smashed him, then twisted into some weird-ass buzz¡­ excitement, maybe? Nah, that didn¡¯t click. Simulation or some shit? Matrix-level jank? They plug me into VR while I was crashed out? Kevin shook his head, totally zoned, shit flying at him too fast to process. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± he muttered, half zoned-out, like he was nodding to crap he didn¡¯t even get. The robotic voice continued: ¡°This is your initial trial. Your survival determines your status in this world and your continued existence. The following are your current statistics: Strength: 3 (5) ¨C Affects melee combat, carrying capacity, and physical power. Agility: 3 (5) ¨C Governs movement speed, evasion, and reflexes. Stamina: 3 (5) ¨C Determines health, damage resistance, and endurance. Intelligence: 6 (5) ¨C Influences energy reserves, elemental resistance, and cognitive ability. Wisdom: 5 (5) ¨C Affects magical proficiency, spell precision, and mental resilience. Charisma: 2 (5) ¨C Impacts social perception and interaction outcomes. (Numbers in parentheses represent the baseline for a 25-year-old Earth male.) Real-world abilities: None detected. Overall Strength Rating: D- (average for males your age is C).¡± Kevin¡¯s jaw hit the dirt. D-? You gotta be shittin¡¯ me. No way¡ªI ain¡¯t that pathetic! His head zipped back to last month¡¯s gym days¡­ okay, yeah, mostly eyeballing chicks, but he¡¯d still broke a damn sweat, right? And that don¡¯t count for jack here? Ain¡¯t this where I snag some badass powers or a killer blade? What¡¯s the deal? Still, Kevin clung to a scrap of hope. I got my looks, don¡¯t I? Charisma¡¯s gotta be solid. He flicked his eyes back to the stats. Gut punched him cold. Charisma: 2. You gotta be fuckin¡¯ kidding. No wonder them girls dodged me like I¡¯m cursed. Shit. The flat voice cut in, calm as hell: ¡°These values reflect your current physical and mental condition. Would you like to review the trial scenario details?¡± Kevin mumbled a low curse, knowing he was a wreck and miles from better stats. He huffed out a tired breath. ¡°Sure, whatever.¡± A flood of data slammed his head: ¡°Trial Scene: The Zombie World Scenario Type: Free exploration Difficulty Level: Beginner Location: Atlanta, Georgia, USA Personal Attribute Adjustment: +50% Adjusted Stats: Strength 4, Agility 4, Stamina 4, Intelligence 9, Wisdom 7, Charisma 3 Pain Sensation Reduction: 80% Main Quest: Survive this zombie-infested deadlands for 7 days. Recommendation: Ensure survival by any available means.¡± Kevin blinked hard. This some kinda gag? Survive seven days¡ªjust that? Sounds like a damn walk. But that¡¯s what¡¯s freakin¡¯ me out. Lost in his head, he slammed into Melk¡¯s back. ¡°Whoa, my bad! Didn¡¯t mean to jam up your space,¡± Kevin yapped, tripping over his words. Melk spun around, eyes cutting him like a damn blade. ¡°Shut it, or you¡¯re toast!¡± Kevin clamped his mouth shut, breath snagging as the nightmare hit home. Cars jammed one side of the highway, packed tight like everybody floored it to bail. The other lane, heading into town, was dead empty¡ªnot a ride in sight. The quiet was creepy as shit¡ªno horns, no city hum, just a hollow-ass void that screamed wrong. The highway was a fuckin¡¯ scrapyard of twisted metal. Blood and meat chunks splattered everywhere¡ªsome still wet, some already rotting like hell. Melk weaved through the wrecked mess, Kevin tailing tight. Kevin¡¯s pulse pounded like a drum in his ears. He¡¯d always figured he¡¯d keep his shit together in a crunch¡ªhell, he¡¯d binged every zombie flick and show, knew the playbook cold. But this? Ain¡¯t no prep for this. Corpses and blood¡ªit was a gore-fest Hollywood¡¯d call too fucked up to shoot. Inside a shiny-ass SUV, a whole family sat dead. The dad flopped back, throat torn wide, face frozen in a twisted snarl. His corpse was turning, eyes bulging like a fish gone sour. In the back, the mom gripped her two kids, their tiny bodies limp and ice-cold, slumped like tossed-out dolls. Up top, giant crows circled like vultures, their screeches slicing the dead air. Every so often, one dove down, tearing off hunks of flesh from the stiffs. These weren¡¯t no regular birds¡ªbigger, slick black feathers, creepy red eyes glowing like coals. Half-starved bastards, they¡¯d chomp you next without blinking. Blood dripped from their beaks, claws crusted with gore. Melk shoved ahead, face locked tight, shoulders bunched like he was ready for shit to hit. He shot Kevin a hard glare over his shoulder and swiped his blade across his throat in warning. Kevin jerked a quick nod. He wasn¡¯t some dumbass¡ªhe¡¯d binged The Zombie World like any TV junkie worth a damn. Rule one? Shut your trap. They crept through the cars, stepping over corpses and blood streaks, the stench of death choking the air. A heavy gut punch hit Kevin, thoughts spinning wild. This all that¡¯s left for us? They kept moving, crows scoping them from above, the dead sprawled silent behind. Kevin¡¯s heart slammed like a damn jackhammer, screaming this ain¡¯t no show. It was real¡ªand he had to live through it. Chapter 2: Walker Trap In this fucked-up world, the dead were running the show now. As they muscled through the ¡°traffic jam,¡± Melk froze dead and waved Kevin down. Kevin ducked behind an SUV in one slick move. He peeked under it and clocked some feet dragging closer. The scrape of boots on asphalt cut through the still air, like some bastard hauling mangled legs along. Kevin¡¯s hair stood up straight. He¡¯d watched these ¡°walkers¡± on TV plenty, no doubt, but facing one for real was a whole other beast. Panic smashed him, hands shaking as he fought to keep his breath steady. Kevin had binged every episode of The Zombie World¡ªthose plots were burned in his skull. A bio-virus had trashed the States, maybe the whole planet, wiping out most of humanity. The kicker? Plenty of the dead didn¡¯t stay down. They came back. The show¡¯s lead, Rikk, was a small-town cop. He woke up in a hospital to a world gone to shit. He got out, scrapped for survival, and finally linked up with his family again. On the way, he snagged a crew of survivors, always rolling, always hunting for a safe spot. A bunch died off, but new blood kept popping up. It was a nonstop grind, packed with brutal twists, the kinda show that glued you to the screen. And now, somehow, Kevin was stuck with this asshole¡ªMelk. He¡¯d been a real prick on the show¡ªa grizzled ex-soldier and a rude bastard who treated folks like trash. The crew even ditched him, handcuffed up on a rooftop with walkers all over, and he still clawed through. Melk was tough as nails, the kinda guy who hacked off his own damn hand to keep moving. Kevin couldn¡¯t stand assholes like Melk. Catching him on screen was one thing, but dealing with him up close? That was a next-level shit-show. Still, he had to give props¡ªOmnispace had paired them, and like it or not, Melk had yanked him outta a tight spot. Maybe that bastard wasn¡¯t a total wash. The guy damn sure knew how to scrap¡ªno way he¡¯d have lasted solo this long otherwise. Kevin figured he might as well swipe a trick or two from the jerk while he could. Kevin¡¯s thoughts drifted as he clocked the dark, rotting feet of a walker shuffling his way. His breath snagged, legs locked stiff. ¡°Hey, jerk, slide under the car!¡± a rough voice hissed. Kevin dropped his eyes and saw Melk flat on his gut, glaring up from under the SUV. He could damn near hear Melk muttering curses under his breath. Kevin got it¡ªMelk was dead right: one slip or a sound, and they¡¯d be walker bait. Gulping hard, he wedged himself under the rig next to Melk. Melk snagged Kevin¡¯s collar and growled, ¡°Pay attention, dumbass. Space out like that again, and you¡¯re walker bait, got it? I¡¯m only hauling your ass outta this ¡®cause I don¡¯t want your fuck-up dragging more creeps our way, you hear?¡± Kevin didn¡¯t mouth off. His throat clamped shut, and he jerked a quick nod, too freaked to yap. The walker looped around the SUV, and more nasty, bloated feet popped up in the distance. Low, guttural moans rolled through the dead air as a pack of walkers shuffled past. Their shoes scraped the pavement, dragging on like a swarm of brain-dead roaches, leaving nothing but a hollow silence behind. Melk went still, spitting on the dirt, his eyes raking the scene like a hunter sizing up a kill. Kevin tracked Melk¡¯s gaze and saw him scoping the roof of a bus nearby¡ªclearly plotting their next move if shit went south. That¡¯s what splits a rookie from a pro, Kevin figured. While he was losing his mind, Melk was already mapping their next play. Melk caught Kevin eyeballing the place and let out a low, gritty laugh. ¡°What¡¯re you scoping, kid?¡± ¡°Uh, escape paths, maybe. We could scramble up to the roof and hop over to the next building,¡± Kevin muttered. Melk huffed. ¡°You¡¯d be toast ten times before you hit the roof. Chomped to shit.¡± Kevin flicked an annoyed glance. ¡°Okay, so what¡¯s your move then?¡± Melk cracked a sly, crooked grin. ¡°Keeping an eye on crows, dumbass. Crows.¡± ¡°Crows?¡± Kevin scrunched his face. ¡°Why crows?¡± ¡°Crows munch on dead stuff, but walkers scare ¡®em off. If walkers are around, no crows. So¡­¡± Melk trailed off. Kevin¡¯s eyes popped wide. ¡°If crows are hanging out, there¡¯s not a ton of walkers! We should haul ass that way.¡± Melk grinned, all sly and smug. ¡°And there¡¯s a Playboy poster on that bus¡¯s back window. Bet that chick on it would make one hell of a walker.¡± Kevin gaped, jaw slack. Even with death breathing down their necks, Melk¡¯s fucked-up humor didn¡¯t miss a damn beat. They stayed low, holding their breath, ¡®til the pack of walkers dragged on by. Kevin let out a shaky breath, the knot in his shoulders easing up. In a few minutes, these rotting bastards would be gone. But there¡¯s always a damn but. A car door busted open, and some dude stumbled out, yelling at the walker latched onto him, ¡°You bastard, back the fuck off!¡± ¡°Shit!¡± Melk jammed his knife into the dirt. Kevin¡¯s heart kicked into overdrive. What the hell¡¯s going down? Was Omnispace pulling this crap? The guy staggered their way, walkers hot on his ass. A corpse, sprawled dead by the car a second ago, twitched up and sank its teeth into the guy¡¯s calf as he bolted past. The dude howled, flailing and kicking at the thing, desperate to shake it loose. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Kevin swallowed hard. Even a rookie like him could tell this poor bastard was done for. The guy crashed to the dirt, dust exploding around him. He screamed, clutching his leg, but it was a lost damn cause. The walker pounced, tearing into his flesh like a rabid dog. Kevin let out a shaky breath. The dude was a good seventy feet off. They could probably haul ass now. But guilt smashed him like a brick. This guy was still human, same as him. That thing ripping him up? Barely a shred of human left. Kevin was just a regular schmuck, stuck watching, useless as the walker shredded the guy. But somehow, the dude bashed the walker¡¯s skull in and dragged himself up. Bloody and busted, he limped on, still fighting to get clear. Kevin¡¯s chest clamped tight as the guy¡¯s wild, panicked eyes locked on him. ¡°Help! Somebody!¡± the dude hollered. ¡°Damn it!¡± Kevin muttered under his breath. This bastard was toast, and now he was trying to drag them into his shit-show. The walkers were already onto Kevin and Melk. Hiding was fucked now. Kevin scrambled out from under the SUV and bolted toward where he¡¯d spotted the crows. Shots popped off behind him. Kevin spun around and saw Melk jogging his way, face hard as rock, gripping a Bushmaster Arm Pistol. Back there, the bitten guy hit the dirt, blood spraying from a bullet hole as walkers swarmed him. They tore into him, ripping his throat wide open. He couldn¡¯t scream¡ªjust gurgled as blood bubbled outta his mouth. Kevin barely caught a wet ¡°hehe¡± from the guy¡¯s wrecked throat. He couldn¡¯t tell if the dude was begging, losing it, or just getting off on dragging two more dumbasses down with him. Didn¡¯t matter now. The walkers had their asses pegged. Melk¡¯s shot had tossed the walkers a fresh meal, pulling most of their heat. But a handful didn¡¯t get a bite and started shambling toward the two still breathing. Kevin bolted after Melk. Years of zombie shows and games had hammered one thing into him: get surrounded by walkers, and you¡¯re fucked. Didn¡¯t matter if you fought like Bruce Lee or packed a rocket launcher¡ªyou were toast. No damn way Kevin was turning into walker chow. Not today. Here¡¯s the kicker: Kevin was a total book nerd. Hot shit on paper, pure trash in the field. Walkers were slow as hell, but Kevin wasn¡¯t exactly Usain Bolt. Sure, his stats got a bump from the trial¡ªAgility hit a ¡°whopping¡± 4 points¡ªbut walkers weren¡¯t far behind, probably at 3 or 4 too. It was a race where the slow bastard got chomped. Melk whipped around, and a cold jolt knifed through Kevin. He was scared shitless this hard-ass might pull the same dirty trick he¡¯d done on the bitten dude¡ªplug Kevin and ditch him as walker bait while he peeled out. Melk raised the Bushmaster, barrel locked on Kevin, who was sucking wind like a busted engine. ¡°I just landed in this damn world, and I¡¯m already walker chow? What kinda shitty luck is this?¡± Kevin groaned. ¡°BANG!¡± The shot cracked the thick silence. Kevin slammed his eyes shut as a walker lunging at him froze mid-jump, its head busting open like a smashed melon. Flesh, blood, and brain chunks splattered over him. He gagged, but it was do or die, so he gritted his teeth and kept hauling ass. Melk popped off shot after shot¡ªseven rounds, seven heads smashed open. Kevin gaped at Melk¡¯s scary-good aim. But the shots dragged in more walkers, boxing them in from every damn side. Kevin watched, gut sinking, as the gap ahead clogged up with walkers¡ªnot a huge mob, but enough to fuck them if they tripped or got snagged. ¡°Catch it!¡± Melk barked, chucking the Bushmaster at Kevin. Kevin shot his hands out, but they slipped, and he dove to the dirt to snag it. ¡°You damn idiot! I¡¯m hotwiring this ride. It¡¯s now or never! Tonight we¡¯re either crashing out or walker chow! Cover me! You even know how to work that thing?!¡± Melk snarled, ripping open the door of a slick red sports car and hopping in. ¡°How do I flip the safety off?¡± Kevin spat, feeling like a total dope¡ªa 21st-century kid clueless on the basics. ¡°It¡¯s already off, you dumbass! Don¡¯t aim at me! Shoot the damn walkers! Lower it¡ªthis thing kicks hard, and the barrel jumps when you fire. Go, shoot!¡± Melk roared. Kevin had never touched a gun before. The Bushmaster weighed a damn ton in his hands, and he scrambled to dredge up shooting tips from movies. Lining up the closest walker, he gritted his teeth and yanked the trigger. The sharp bang froze the walkers for a split second, their heads snapping toward the noise. But the one he¡¯d aimed at? Still standing, not a scratch. The bullet smashed a car window, and the alarm screeched through the chaos. ¡°Nice one, genius!¡± Melk barked, cracking a gritty laugh. ¡°You¡¯re trying to get us screwed, huh?¡± ¡°Zip it!¡± Kevin clamped the Bushmaster tighter, a spark of grit flaring in his chest. The kick from his last shot had rattled his wrist, but instead of lining it up clean, he swung the gun at the closest walker and yanked the trigger again. The kickback tore through the meat by his thumb, blood pooling as his wrist swelled up and stung like hell. Pain ripped up his arm, but quitting wasn¡¯t an option. Then Omnispace¡¯s icy, robotic voice sounded in his mind: ¡°Worldhopper 4444 has eliminated 1 regular walker. Weapon is borrowed; reward adjusted accordingly. Reward: 1 survival point. Review battle log for more information. Title Walker Hunter unlocked, progress 1/100. For title details, query Omnispace. Submit a query mentally; response provided upon clearance.¡± Kevin didn¡¯t have a damn second to think. Clenching his jaw, he lined up another walker and let it rip. He knew his stats sucked, so aiming for headshots was a dumbass move. Showing off would just get him smoked. The Bushmaster had enough kick that nailing the bastard anywhere was fine, especially with regular walkers. He aimed for the body but tagged the head anyway, its skull busting open like cheap glass, brains splattering everywhere. Kevin tuned out the pain and kept blasting. A wild shot smashed another car window¡ªwho gave a shit about the owner or insurance now? In under a minute, Kevin popped off thirty rounds with the Bushmaster. His hands were bloody, his arms numb as hell, but he¡¯d dropped 17 walkers and snagged 17 survival points. Outta a walker¡¯s corpse, a white key flashed in, zipped into Kevin¡¯s chest, and bam¡ªgone. What the hell was that thing? He didn¡¯t have a second to figure it out. The walkers kept piling up, crowding them like a damn endless flood, stacking one on top of another. Kevin¡¯s hit rate was over fifty percent¡ªnot ¡®cause he had skills, but ¡®cause they were practically in his face. Long as he kept it low, damn near every shot landed. ¡°I¡¯m cooked! This shit over yet?¡± Kevin hollered, voice shaking with panic. All of a sudden, the car¡¯s engine roared to life, a loud blast ripping through the chaos. Kevin dove in fast. The Porsche screamed forward like a beast, smashing walkers and tossing bodies as it burned down the road. Chapter 3: Learn or Bleed While Melk kept tearing down the road, Kevin gawked at the freaky new mark on his chest¡ªa bright red stamp shaped like a snarling ghost head. Kevin had binged enough sci-fi and fantasy to keep his shit together, but this was next-level¡ªa magic stash he¡¯d only caught rumors about. That mark wasn¡¯t some random tattoo; it was a Spatial Sigil¡ªa weird-ass symbol hiding a pocket you couldn¡¯t see, about locker-sized, holding just one white key. His survival points glowed in there too, floating at a slick 117. Newbies kicked off with 100 survival points, and he¡¯d snagged 17 extra from the walkers he¡¯d blasted. Kevin grabbed the white key, and a pop-up flashed in his face: ¡°Do you wish to activate this key?¡± Hell yeah, he thought, ¡°Yes.¡± Right then, a white vortex spun up in front of him. A flash of light stung his eyes for a hot second, and when it cleared, a gleaming gold ring shot out and landed in his hand. Kevin¡¯s pulse kicked into overdrive. This had to be some big shit¡ªmaybe an artifact, or legendary gear. For a split second, he pictured himself glowing with badass vibes, magic loot from all over zooming straight into his grip. But the buzz crashed the second he snatched the ring. It wasn¡¯t gold¡ªjust some cheap brass. The perk it gave? A lousy +1 Stamina. Kevin sighed, eyeballing the junky brass ring in his palm. ¡°Well,¡± he mumbled with a half grin, ¡°a 25% Stamina bump¡¯s better than jack shit.¡± He slipped the ring onto his middle finger, then nabbed some leather gloves from the car and tugged them on. They were clutch¡ªnot just to hide the ring, but to shield his hands from walker chomps and that gross-ass spit. ¡°Where we going?¡± Kevin asked, messing with his gloves and bending his fingers to test the fit. Melk sparked a cig with a flick of his lighter, puffing a smoke ring right in Kevin¡¯s face. Kevin hacked, but Melk just smirked, soaking up every damn second of it. ¡°Hell if I know, kid. You got any hotshot ideas, genius?¡± Kevin¡¯s brain revved up, digging through what he remembered of the world¡¯s plot. Fools who dare to cheat the wise, will pay the price in tears and cries. Kevin peeked at the white dagger Melk had ¡°so kindly¡± handed over. What a damn joke. Yeah, it dished out 5 damage points and was worth 1 survival point, but that was peanuts. It couldn¡¯t even scare off the wimpiest walkers. In this mess, guns ruled the damn roost. Where the hell do I snag guns in this damn world? Kevin¡¯s brain buzzed through patchy bits of the plot, finally zeroing in on a lifeline: the cop shop in Rikk¡¯s town. Those joints were usually loaded¡ªshotguns, rifles, handguns, and vests. If they could nab that haul, they¡¯d have a solid shot at making it. ¡°We gotta hit the cop shop,¡± Kevin blurted, his voice tight with the heat of the moment. ¡°We need guns and bullets, stat.¡± Melk sucked another pull off his cig, blowing a lazy smoke ring. ¡°Now you¡¯re talking, kid,¡± he said, smirking. ¡°If you¡¯d pitched hiding like some chickenshit, I¡¯d have booted you out myself.¡± Cold sweat popped on Kevin¡¯s brow. Even in this jacked-up world, where you¡¯re one wrong move from biting it, their team-up still meant something. NPCs mostly rolled with Omnispace¡¯s playbook, but they weren¡¯t just puppets either. Melk wasn¡¯t riding the script¡ªhe was sizing Kevin up, sniffing out what kinda guts he was packing. If they didn¡¯t vibe, Melk¡¯d dump him in a heartbeat. Good thing Kevin picked the right call this time. The Porsche peeled into Rikk¡¯s town, engine snarling like a pissed-off beast. The place looked chill¡ªlush green trees and tidy lawns hugging quiet streets. But that calm vibe got trashed fast by walkers shuffling around, their dead-ass eyes locked on the car as it burned past. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. With a squeal, the Porsche screeched to a stop, smashing a walker and tossing it clean over the hood. Melk and Kevin bailed out of the ride. ¡°My bad, buddy,¡± Melk cracked up, voice dripping with sarcasm as he whipped out his pistol and popped the walker with one clean shot. Kevin froze up, eyes bugging out as Melk got busy, mowing down walkers with freaky precision. Pow! A headshot from way out. Pfft! Heads rolling up close. Walkers dropped like flies, piling up at Melk¡¯s boots. Kevin¡¯s heart was pounding, half stoked, half freaked. Sun was still up, so the walkers weren¡¯t juiced up yet. And there weren¡¯t a ton around, which totally handed Kevin and Melk the edge. After cleaning up the last few walkers, they booked it to the cop shop. It was a dinky little joint on the town¡¯s edge, and they hit the armory in no time. Melk smashed the door open, pistol up, ready to blast anything that twitched. But the armory was a damn bust. The shelves sat empty, just a handful of spent bullet boxes strewn across the dusty floor. Melk¡¯s mug turned sour as he spun around to shoot Kevin a death glare. Kevin could only toss back a weak-ass shrug. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re screwed on this one,¡± Kevin mumbled. ¡°Somebody beat us to the punch.¡± Melk clenched his jaw, a mean scowl digging into his face. ¡°Rikk,¡± he growled, ¡°that bastard probably wiped this joint clean first. Let¡¯s roll.¡± As they bailed from the station, a light bulb popped on in Kevin¡¯s head¡ªRikk¡¯s pad. Dude lived right here in town, and if anybody had gear or supplies stashed, it¡¯d be him. Kevin pitched the plan to Melk, who was all in to check it out. Rikk¡¯s pad wasn¡¯t much better¡ªit was a damn wreck, obviously already torn apart by somebody. Melk smoked a couple of walkers that shambled too close while Kevin poked around the joint for anything worth grabbing. He snagged a family pic of Rikk without even thinking, just reflex kicking in. The only decent score was a handgun with 20 rounds tucked in a drawer¡ªother than that, the place was picked clean. ¡°Let¡¯s ditch this bullshit and bounce!¡± Melk snarled, smashing his boot into the table in a pissed-off fit. Kevin could feel the heat rolling off Melk, thick as hell in the air. This wasn¡¯t just about staying alive¡ªit was personal. Rikk had screwed Melk into losing his hand, and Melk was itching to settle the score. They were about to bounce when Melk sparked a cig, then, just to be a dick, chucked the lighter into the living room. The joint went up in flames in no time, fire chewing through the wooden frame like a rabid beast. ¡°Let¡¯s roll. Stay sharp,¡± Melk growled. ¡°I¡¯ve got another play,¡± Kevin blurted, no filter on his mouth. Melk cocked an eyebrow, puffing out a slow cloud of smoke. ¡°Starting to like your style, kid. Lay it on me!¡± Kevin leaned in close, words tumbling out fast, ¡°I know where Rikk¡¯s stash of guns is¡ªa crossroad in Atlanta.¡± Melk clammed up, his face hardening to stone as he chewed on that bombshell. Atlanta had turned into a damn nightmare since the world went to hell¡ªcrawling with a zillion walkers. Get clocked in that hellhole, and you¡¯re toast. Word was an elite tank crew bit it¡ªwalls smashed, grunts torn to shreds. Kevin knew Atlanta was a gamble that could screw him royally, but the Omnispace alert didn¡¯t give a rat¡¯s ass about his options. ¡°Attention, new Worldhoppers: The 12-hour protection period terminates shortly. Tonight, walkers will experience their initial evolution, increasing vitality and speed by 10%, with enhanced sensory capabilities. Plot difficulty will escalate from C- to C. Throughout the 7-day trial, walkers will evolve every 48 hours, with plot difficulty rising in tandem. Reward bonuses will increase accordingly. Prepare yourselves.¡± Dusk was creeping in, signaling the first day¡¯s wrap. Kevin felt the whole damn mess pressing down on him hard. The trial meant hanging on for seven days, and by his math, three evolution jumps would crank the heat up to a brutal B grade. For a D- grade rookie, staying alive in this ruthless shithole was like scaling a busted cliff. The creeping doom of those upgrades just lit a fire under Kevin to gear up quick. ¡°Son of a bitch!¡± Kevin clenched his jaw, cussing Omnispace under his breath. ¡°This is supposed to be a newbie gig? Total horseshit.¡± Tied to the script as an NPC, Melk could smell the trouble closing in too. After a long, grudging huff, he gave Kevin¡¯s plan a stiff nod. ¡°All right. We¡¯ll roll to Atlanta,¡± Melk grumbled, flicking his cig stub to the dirt. ¡°But if this flops, kid, you¡¯re eating the blame.¡± The two guys cruised down the highway in silence, the weight of their gig pressing on their backs. Kevin was wired cautious by nature, but he knew it was time to nut up. No way he¡¯d let fear call the shots¡ªOmnispace didn¡¯t mess around, and only the ballsy made it out alive. Melk chucked Rikk¡¯s handgun at Kevin and ran him through a quick-and-dirty rundown on how to use it. The piece was small, easy to grip¡ªperfect for tight-space scraps. After Melk¡¯s crash-course lesson, Kevin clocked how sloppy his old shooting attempts were. He had to lock down aiming, keep his sight steady, time his pops, and not freak out when shit hit the fan. Outta nowhere, that familiar ping flashed in Kevin¡¯s eyes: ¡°Attention, Worldhopper 4444: You have acquired the skill Small Firearms Mastery from Melk. Melk¡¯s skill level registered at 6; yours began at 0. Transfer completed with 98.6% accuracy. Your Small Firearms Mastery is now level 1. Damage and accuracy with handguns, large handguns, and submachine guns are enhanced by 5%. Current proficiency: 17/200. Upon reaching maximum proficiency, the skill will automatically advance.¡± Kevin was juiced¡ªvisions of badass movie sharpshooters burned through his head. He hammered Melk with a million questions till the guy finally blew a gasket. Picking up tricks from these NPCs hinged on a few things: how much they vibed with you, how well you clicked, and their own chops. With a solid hookup, Melk had signed off on teaching Kevin the skill, but he damn well hoped the kid wouldn¡¯t be a deadweight and could carry his load sometimes. Kevin was already pretty stoked. Hell, he still had seven days to play with, and in his book, Melk was a walking jackpot now. That hungry stare from Kevin started grating on Melk¡ªwho was used to freaking folks out¡ªlike some yappy pup wouldn¡¯t quit nipping at his heels. Melk figured he¡¯d better keep this hyped-up fanboy at arm¡¯s length before the kid started cooking up any wild-ass schemes. *** Chapter 4: Reek With 鈥楨m They rolled into Atlanta and cut the engine. Stepping out slow and cagey, they scoped the scene. This ain¡¯t no podunk town anymore¡ªthe city was lousy with walkers, and every damn noise could pull a swarm of those bastards. Melk took point, fingers locked tight on the Bushmaster. Kevin tailed him close, police pistol slick in his sweaty grip. Melk had laid it out¡ªkeep that thing stashed unless all hell broke loose. Blasting off rounds would just ring the dinner bell for more walkers, and up close, a blade was the smarter play. Kevin¡¯s nerves were fried to hell. He¡¯d never swung a knife in his life, and now Melk figured he¡¯d gut walkers with one? Catching Kevin¡¯s shakes, Melk flicked him a quick, half-assed glare before running him through a rough-and-ready knife rundown. To Kevin¡¯s shock, he nearly crapped himself when a quick ping flashed: Small Blades Mastery, Level 1¡ª5% boost to damage and speed with knives. Kevin damn well knew it now¡ªMelk¡¯s a freaking skill book on two legs. Grinning like a fool, he stuck tight on Melk¡¯s heels. They crept down the street, hugging the shadows. At the block¡¯s end, Kevin snuck a quick peek around the corner. Straight outta the TV show, there it was¡ªa badass intersection. A hulking M1A1 tank squatted off the road, a nasty leftover from the military¡¯s last gasp. The driver was long gone, his mangled corpse dangling like some sick joke from the cannon. Walkers were thick as flies, buzzing around the blood stink. Rikk had rolled through earlier¡ªhis horse, still getting ripped apart by the bastards, was the bloody proof. Near the tank¡¯s base, smack in the middle of the walker swarm, sat a fat duffel bag. It was stuffed to the gills with guns¡ªrifles, pistols, the whole damn arsenal¡ªand no way you¡¯d miss that beauty. Kevin¡¯s eyes popped wide. This was the freaking jackpot they¡¯d hauled ass for. ¡°Score!¡± Kevin hissed, all hyped, jabbing a finger at the bag. ¡°Yep,¡± Melk grunted, squinting at it. ¡°Go snag it.¡± ¡°Wait, what?¡± Kevin choked out. ¡°You want me to grab it?¡± ¡°Yeah, that haul of guns over there,¡± Melk said, shrugging like it was no sweat. ¡°You want ¡¯em? Go fetch, kid.¡± ¡°Me?¡± Kevin¡¯s voice cracked like a cheap radio. ¡°You¡¯re the badass here. Shouldn¡¯t you be on it?¡± Melk just smirked, all cocky. ¡°Why the hell you think I taught you to fight? Time to quit being a damn leech. Show me your chops, or I¡¯m out. Your move.¡± Kevin gaped at Melk, gut twisting like a freaking pretzel. ¡°Ugh¡­ alright, fine! But can I at least throw ¡¯em off first? I ain¡¯t looking to be walker chow.¡± ¡°Suit yourself,¡± Melk shot back, smirk stretching wide. ¡°Only thing keeping you from turning into one of them is this,¡± he tapped his skull, ¡°so use it, before you lose it.¡± Kevin sucked in a shaky breath, trying to pull his shit together. He flashed back to Rikk in the show¡ªswarmed by walkers, ducking under the tank to hide. Glenor, that Korean dude if he remembered right, had bailed Rikk out by luring the bastards off. Kevin scoped the scene, brain churning for a plan on the fly. ¡°We need a fresh walker,¡± Kevin said, voice low and cagey. ¡°Knock yourself out,¡± Melk tossed back. A small rock pinged off the skull of a far-off chick walker in a white blouse, snapping her head up. Drawn by a flurry of dead-on throws, the ¡°lady¡±¡ªfreshly dead with a face still creepy as hell¡ªlumbered into an alley. Two lowlife punks skulking in the dark jumped her, slamming her ass to the dirt. The crew wasted her¡ªand, yeah, shit got ugly quick. They hacked her open, yanking out guts like vultures tearing into roadkill. That poor ¡°broad¡± wasn¡¯t staggering outta that alley again. (Hell, her corpse might as well have croaked, ¡°You sick bastards! Can¡¯t I catch a damn break even dead?¡±) Kevin hurled again, guts churning like a damn washing machine. Melk was tough as nails¡ªhad just forced Kevin to shank a walker up close, pretty much bare-knuckled. First time swinging a blade, and jamming it into rotting meat was every bit as vile as he¡¯d dreaded. Even knowing it wasn¡¯t human anymore, that face still had a creepy-ass human vibe that wouldn¡¯t quit. Then Melk made him lop off its head, rotten brains spraying everywhere¡ªdeliberately splattering Kevin¡¯s sorry ass. Nasty as fuck. Kevin thought the stink was bad before, but now Melk had him rip open the walker¡¯s gut and yank out its heart. He¡¯d started getting numb to the walker reek, but this stench hit like a freaking truck. Rotten guts and blood splattered all over, air so thick with rot even Melk¡ªbuilt like a damn tank¡ªnoped out, keeping his ass well clear. ¡°Nice work, kid,¡± Melk said, smirking just enough to piss you off. ¡°But if those walkers clock you ain¡¯t one of them, I¡¯m not playing hero. You were shaking like a bitch back there, by the way. Nut up!¡± Kevin grumbled, ¡°Whatever. I die, I¡¯m haunting your ass tonight.¡± Melk just chuckled, low and smug. Then a reeking ¡°walker¡± shambled onto Atlanta¡¯s streets. Kevin played it slick, copying the walkers¡¯ stumble, inching toward the horde. A couple of the bastards shambled his way, noses twitching like freaking bloodhounds. They sniffed the air, scrunched their rotting mugs in disgust, then peeled off. Kevin fist-pumped on the sly. Yeah, he was scared shitless, but he¡¯d nailed the walker gig¡ªwobbly legs and all. Truth was, he was shaking so bad his teeth were rattling, sweat pouring off him like a busted faucet. The walker mob closed in tight as Kevin pressed deeper, their rotting hulks rubbing up against him. He couldn¡¯t shake the gut-churning dread that his human stink would sell him out. But he had no damn choice¡ªkept slogging on, heart thumping like a jackhammer in his chest. The streets were crawling with walkers. Kevin tried dodging through the mess, but a clumsy bastard crashed into him, sending him sprawling ass-first to the dirt. Worst part? That fake gut rope¡ªdraped around his neck like some fucked-up scarf¡ªflew off. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡°This is bad,¡± Kevin thought, eyes locked down as he scrambled to snatch his loose intestine. The reek smashed his nose like a goddamn fist, but to him, it was a twisted nod to those German sausages he loved¡ªshit he¡¯d trade his left nut to swap for that fake gut right now. To Kevin¡¯s absolute horror, some ¡°helpful¡± walker scooped up his fake gut rope and chomped a bite. The damn thing chewed it slow, like it was savoring some long-lost pre-walker snack. (Kevin couldn¡¯t shake the thought¡ªdid it taste like his damn German sausage?) The walker tore into that intestine like it was at a freaking buffet. Kevin hissed a curse under his breath, ¡°What the hell¡¯s wrong with these walkers? They eating their own now?¡± No choice¡ªhe kept hauling ass forward. But shit never hits solo, right? That nasty walker wolfed down the ¡°German sausage,¡± then zeroed in on Kevin like a bloodhound on a hot trail. Panic slammed him hard, but bolting wasn¡¯t in the cards. He shuffled on, cranking the speed just a hair. This foodie walker wasn¡¯t just stubborn¡ªit was hell-bent, charging like it¡¯d been a damn Olympic sprinter pre-apocalypse. It lunged, jaws snapping at Kevin¡¯s neck. Kevin froze up, scared shitless, and let out a yell that could¡¯ve woken hell itself. Lucky break¡ªthe foodie chomped down on some fake organ dangling off his neck¡ªmaybe a kidney or liver¡ªgnawed it, gagged, and spat it out like it¡¯d tasted hot garbage. Kevin was this close to passing out, barely any ¡°cover¡± left clinging to his sorry ass. The foodie walker wasn¡¯t letting up. It dove in again, ripping another chunk of intestine off Kevin¡¯s waist¡ªanother piece of his disguise gone. This bastard clearly had a hard-on for guts. Kevin clocked walkers closing in, noses twitching like goddamn bloodhounds on a hot scent. Heart slamming in his chest, he picked up the pace, dodging through the horde till he hit the gun stash. He dove for it, snagging the haul in a rush that damn near juiced his veins. Maybe that foodie walker figured Kevin¡¯s taste was top-shelf¡ªanything he grabbed had to be primo shit. It came charging back, this time gunning for the package in Kevin¡¯s grip. The nearby walkers caught on, eyes locking onto him like wolves sniffing out a stray. Slow but steady, they started boxing him in. Kevin saw the whole mess going south fast, and he was pissed as hell. He ripped a riot shotgun outta the bag, leveling it right at the foodie walker¡¯s stinking, drooling mug. ¡°Chew on this, you bastard!¡± he bellowed, blasting the trigger. The foodie¡¯s head popped like a damn pi?ata, blood and brains spraying everywhere, fake teeth soaring through the air and smacking dead-on into a McDonald¡¯s sign. Fitting exit for a shitty excuse of a chowhound. Kevin didn¡¯t fuck around. He hauled ass, sprinting like a bank robber with the loot, legs pumping for dear life. He blasted the shotgun till it clicked empty, then gripped it tight and swung it like a Louisville Slugger, bashing through the horde like a madman. But the street narrowed tight ahead, and after a few hundred feet of hauling ass, he slammed into a dead end. Walkers jammed the road like Black Friday gone to hell on Fifth Avenue. ¡°This is it,¡± Kevin thought, heart sinking into his guts. ¡°I¡¯m toast. Game fucking over.¡± Right then, a motorcycle roared in like a goddamn beast, engine screaming as it ripped through the walkers, barreling straight for Kevin. ¡°Melk! My brother!¡± Kevin yelled, eyes wet with damn tears. ¡°You finally showed, you bastard! I take back all the shit I said about you being a dick¡ª¡± But the rider¡ªface masked by a helmet¡ªsnatched the gun bag right outta Kevin¡¯s hands and gunned the engine like he was about to ditch his sorry ass! Kevin yanked the gun bag back and hollered, ¡°Melk! What the hell you pulling? You jackass! Somebody call the damn cops!¡± The whole scene went dead quiet. Even the walkers looked stumped, like they were all scratching their rotting heads, wondering who the fuck Melk was, what cops were, and why Kevin kept tagging the biker a jackass. The rider froze, thrown off for a quick second. Kevin didn¡¯t waste it¡ªjumped right onto the back like a cat. ¡°Go! Go! Go!¡± he barked. The bike roared and peeled out. *** Kevin¡¯s world went dark as a sack was yanked over his head, snuffing out the light. He hit the dirt hard, pain jolting through him as boots and sneakers slammed into him from every direction. His arms and legs twisted into shapes that screamed ¡°oh fuck.¡± Didn¡¯t take a genius to clock this wasn¡¯t Melk¡ªsome other bastard had nabbed him. ¡°Seriously? More shitty luck?¡± he groaned, wincing like a bastard. ¡°Who¡¯d I piss off now? Why¡¯s everyone so damn hot to stomp me flat?¡± A man¡¯s voice spoke. ¡°What do we do with him?¡± ¡°Kill him,¡± came the ice-cold answer, dripping with a thick Spanish accent. The sharp click of a gun cocking sent a chill racing down Kevin¡¯s spine. But then, a wild idea hit. That voice¡ªSpanish accent, Atlanta vibe¡ªrang a bell. He yelled, ¡°Wait! Don¡¯t shoot! I¡¯m a prophet!¡± The world dropped into eerie silence. Then, bam¡ªa rifle butt smashed his face, blood gushing from his nose. ¡°Bleeding prophet, huh?¡± the Spanish-accented voice sneered. Kevin shoved the pain aside and leaned into it. ¡°Hey, how¡¯d you peg me as the Bleeding Prophet?¡± He cocked his head, playing it cool like he was sizing shit up. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re Guilan, right?¡± ¡°Whoa, whoa, whoa,¡± Guilan sputtered, yanking Kevin upright with a hard pull. ¡°How the hell you know my name?¡± ¡°I see visions, dude,¡± Kevin shot back, piling on the mystic vibes thick as shit. ¡°Big ones. I know your deal¡ªgrandparents stuck in a nursing home, yeah? No meds, no grub, zilch. So you risked your ass for guns. Only you nabbed mine.¡± Before Guilan could blink, a shaky voice piped up. ¡°Let him go, Guilan.¡± As the sack over Kevin¡¯s head got ripped off, his eyes squinted against the dim light, spotting a young guy shielding an old lady. ¡°Grandma, we can¡¯t trust this phony!¡± the young guy barked. ¡°He¡¯s no prophet¡ªjust some slick con man! We can¡¯t risk it. Let¡¯s ditch him!¡± The old lady smiled calmly, not fazed by her grandson¡¯s fit. ¡°Guilan, he hauled in the guns we¡¯re dying for.¡± ¡°Those are my damn guns!¡± Guilan snapped, voice spiking with a mix of piss-off and hurt. ¡°Well, he nabbed ¡¯em first, and he gets what we¡¯re dealing with,¡± she shot back, serene smile locked tight. ¡°He¡¯s our savior, Guilan.¡± Guilan paused, huffed out a sigh, and waved his hand, sending the young crew off. The old lady hauled ¡°Bleeding Prophet¡± Kevin to the nursing home. No surprise¡ªthe joint was a mess. Tons of old folks could barely budge, frail as hell, stuck in beds or wheelchairs. Their kin, all heart and grit, wouldn¡¯t ditch ¡¯em, hanging on despite the shitshow outside. But weirdly, the older folks looked half-decent¡ªdocs, nurses, and aides were busting ass to keep ¡¯em comfy. Kevin even clocked Glenor¡ªGuilan¡¯s earlier catch¡ªhustling around the home. That sure as hell wasn¡¯t in the original script. Rikk¡¯s crew hadn¡¯t rolled in to spring him yet. In the version Kevin knows, Glenor got nabbed hunting a gun stash. Now, Kevin felt like he¡¯d tripped into that gig¡ªpure dumb luck. Then, a faint ruckus buzzed from outside. Walkers hitting us, or Rikk sniffing around? Kevin¡¯s brain spun back to the version he knew¡ªGlenor nabbed hunting a gun stash, Rikk¡¯s crew tripping over this nursing home to spring him and snag the guns. They¡¯d geared up for a brawl, but the gut-punch sight of frail old timers clinging to life flipped Rikk¡¯s script. He¡¯d coughed up half the haul and bailed with Glenor. Wasn¡¯t that wrap-up a bit too damn tidy? Kevin knew the director had axed that cut. In that take, the home got swamped¡ªsweet old lady turned walker chow. That¡¯s just how this fucked-up world rolled. Even with guns, a nursing home didn¡¯t stand a snowball¡¯s chance against a horde. Guilan stepped out, then rolled back in with Melk¡ªturns out, he¡¯d tracked the bike¡¯s trail right to Kevin¡¯s ass. Chapter 5: Stand or Rot Melk stormed in, and Kevin tossed him a quick nod. ¡°Hey, kid, solid job at the crossroads. Now grab your crap and let¡¯s haul ass outta here!¡± Melk snapped, his voice rough and bossy. Guilan smirked, arms crossed tight as hell. ¡°Go wherever you want, but the guns stay with us!¡± Melk ran his tongue along his blade, eyes narrowing into a pissed-off squint. Kevin stepped up, hands raised high. ¡°Whoa, hold up. Can we chill and talk this out? We busted our asses dragging those guns back from the walkers¡ªyou just swooped in and nabbed ¡¯em. But with all these old folks to look after, how about we split ¡¯em fair and square?¡± Guilan snorted, his lip curling like he¡¯d sniffed something rank. ¡°Share with you two punks? Get real¡ªyou¡¯ve got zilch on us!¡± Right then, Glenor rolled up, voice cool but steady as hell. ¡°Count me in¡ªmakes three,¡± he said, nodding at Kevin and Melk. Melk shot him a filthy look but zipped it. Back in the day, Glenor was one of the guys who¡¯d screwed him over, handcuffing him to that damn roof. Oh yeah, Melk still wanted to rip his head off, but guns and ammo trumped payback right now. Glenor¡¯s help was a damn bonus¡ªsettling scores could wait. Guilan opened his mouth to snap back, but loud-ass yells exploded outside: ¡°Walkers! Shit-tons of ¡¯em!¡± He barked orders like a drill sergeant, kicking his crew into gear as they hauled ass to face the swarm. Kevin¡¯s gut twisted hard as fuck. The story was jumping the gun way too fast. This curveball in the plot had him sweating bullets. Right on cue, a mission alert blasted across his vision: ¡°Worldhopper 4444, you¡¯ve tripped a hidden storyline: The Nursing Home¡¯s Downfall. You unlocked this arc early, and now it¡¯s go-time. Pick your poison: 1. Snag half the guns and bounce while Guilan¡¯s crew holds off the walkers. 2. Talk Melk and Glenor into sticking around to save this nursing home with Guilan¡¯s squad. Heads-up: Successfully defending the nursing home will change the original plot and grant substantial rewards. But beware¡ªthe large number of attacking walkers makes this mission highly unpredictable. Based on your ability rating, the risk is high. Choose wisely.¡± Omnispace went radio silent, leaving Kevin to chew on his options. Option one was the easy out¡ªgrab some guns and dip. Safe, but kinda lame. Option two? Ballsy as fuck. Bigger risk, bigger payoff¡ªtotal game-changer if he could swing it. Deep down, Kevin knew Omnispace didn¡¯t fuck around with pointless gigs. This was a gut-punch choice: survive like a savage or cling to some shred of decency. Was scraping by enough, or did living like a human actually mean something? In the show, Rikk was all about that humanity vibe. He helped folks, built a crew, kept hope alive. That¡¯s what set him apart from selfish pricks like Sharn and Melk, who¡¯d ditch anyone for a can of beans. Kevin flicked his eyes at the old-timers nearby. Those calm stares had a quiet weight¡ªknowing life, ready for death. For a guy like him, used to kicking back in peacetime, leaving these people to get chomped by walkers felt like a kick in the damn nuts. From a ¡°big picture¡± angle, this mission had some serious heft. Plus, that ¡°hidden¡± tag screamed epic loot. And ¡°unpredictable danger¡±? Screw it¡ªthe whole world¡¯s already a goddamn dumpster fire; danger¡¯s just Tuesday. This seven-day quest was crushing Kevin¡¯s soul¡ªwalkers mutating every 48 hours like some fucked-up science experiment gone rogue. The stress gnawed at him, but deep down, he couldn¡¯t shake the itch that bailing out would screw him harder than staying. Omnispace didn¡¯t toss him into this shitshow just to watch him die, right? This gig wasn¡¯t pure suicide¡ªsaving these helpless folks had to tie into some bigger picture. Maybe some badass would swoop in to pull their nuts outta the damn fire. High risk, high reward¡ªKevin was balls-deep in this mess now! ¡°Melk, Glenor, we¡¯re sticking around to smash these walkers!¡± Kevin hollered, sharp and firm. Glenor gave a quick nod, a half-assed smirk tugging at his lips as he sized Kevin up. Back in the old tale, this nursing home was his soft spot¡ªprobably some cultural crap about kissing elder ass baked into his bones. Didn¡¯t take much to rope him in. ¡°You fuckin¡¯ nuts, kid?¡± Melk spat, sneering like a junkyard dog. ¡°If you¡¯re so hot to get your ass chewed off, I ain¡¯t stickin¡¯ around for the show¡ªI¡¯m ghostin¡¯ this dump!¡± ¡°Melk! You gonna keep bolting like a scared rabbit?¡± Kevin yelled, voice sharp but steady, cutting through the chaos. ¡°Don¡¯t you get why folks can¡¯t stand your ass? Deep down, you¡¯re dying to fit in¡ªyou¡¯re just too damn stubborn to own it. You¡¯ve got this¡ª¡± Before Kevin could spit another word, Melk¡¯s fist slammed into his face like a freight train. The guy was a rabid dog unleashed¡ªgrabbing Kevin¡¯s shirt, he yanked him close and snarled, ¡°Who the hell died and crowned you king, huh? You think you¡¯re hot shit ¡¯cause you¡¯re some scrawny nerd? You¡¯re no different from this wimp¡ªboth of you are dead weight! Wanna croak here? Be my guest, I ain¡¯t cryin¡¯ over your sorry corpse.¡± Kevin hit the dirt, groaning as he spat out a tooth, blood trickling down his chin like a busted faucet. But he wasn¡¯t folding. Wiping his mouth, he locked eyes with Melk and rasped, ¡°Look at these old folks¡­ they¡¯re cool as hell under this mess, and you¡¯re the one losing it.¡± His glare sharpened. ¡°You¡¯re the real coward here, man.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Kevin sucked in a breath, steadying his voice like he was piecing a puzzle mid-fight. ¡°Here¡¯s the truth: Glenor and me¡ªthe ¡®wimps¡¯ you keep yapping about¡ªwe¡¯re ready to throw down. But you? The big bad Melk?¡± His lip curled, eyes narrowing with a cold jab. ¡°You¡¯re scampering off with your tail tucked tight.¡± He hawked a bloody glob onto the dirt. ¡°Go ahead, run. Let¡¯s see how far your sorry self¡ª¡± WHAM! Melk¡¯s fist crashed in again, sending Kevin¡¯s skull smashing into the wall with a sickening crack. Blood gushed from a split scalp, streaking down his face like war paint. He crumpled to the ground, vision blurring¡ªif this was a game, his health bar¡¯d be flashing red by now. Pain throbbed through his skull, heartbeat hammering in his ears. But even through the haze, Kevin couldn¡¯t shake the knot twisting in his gut¡ªMelk had pulled him out of the fire too many times for this to sit right. This Omnispace mess had him pinned, and he was stuck playing hardball to keep the guy here. If Melk bailed, their shot at winning would be near zero. Glenor stepped up, planting his boots square in Melk¡¯s path like a brick wall. ¡°Listen up,¡± he said, voice steady as steel, ¡°me and this guy are set to bust some walker skulls together. You? Go play your little lone-wolf hero act you¡¯re so damn proud of.¡± He snagged a riot shotgun from a busted locker nearby and marched out, not sparing Melk another glance. Kevin hauled himself up, yanked out his pistol, and flashed a shaky grin. No damn way he¡¯d look weak¡ªnot when he had to bullshit his way tough. Melk was a hard-ass who¡¯d only nod at balls of steel. Hold your shit together, he¡¯d give you a nod. Flinch one bit, and he¡¯d ditch your ass cold. Kevin brushed past Melk, jaw tight, and sneered, ¡°Surviving ain¡¯t shit if you got nothing to bleed for¡ªyou¡¯re just a damn walker with a pulse!¡± Melk let out a nasty cackle, then smashed his boot into Kevin¡¯s gut, dumping him flat. *** Outside¡ªchaos. Kevin clocked a shit-ton of walkers¡ªlurching fiends swarming the streets like a plague. Guilan¡¯s crew¡ªsixteen or so hardened fighters¡ªbraced for the onslaught. Packing the guns and ammo Kevin had snagged, they locked down a tight formation, blasting walkers back with stone-cold grit. Glenor held the front, pumping his shotgun like a beast, popping walker skulls clean. Brain or bust¡ªthat¡¯s the game. Kevin hung back, Melk¡¯s gritty lessons ringing in his head, picking his shots like a sniper. Deep down, Kevin hated pissing Melk off. Melk had the chops and had been schooling him hard in this screwed-up hellhole. No payout needed¡ªthose tricks were gold. Surviving wasn¡¯t enough¡ªlife¡¯s gotta mean more. Kevin¡ªyesterday¡¯s gamer geek¡ªcouldn¡¯t ditch these old folks to rot. He¡¯d hate his damn guts if he bailed. Bet you¡¯re thinking¡ªit¡¯s just a game. NPCs, story fodder. Who cares if they croak? Kevin bought that crap once. Then he caught their eyes¡ªraw anger, gut fear, a flicker of hope¡ªand it hit him: these weren¡¯t just NPCs or code. They were flesh-and-blood folks clawing to live. He wasn¡¯t some hero ready to eat dirt for them, but he could damn well hold the line and slug back. The pistol kicked light, and Kevin locked it tight, popping rounds like a pro with his Small Firearms Mastery jacked up. Walkers rushed in, and he blasted straight ahead, unloading rounds like a machine. Sixty seconds flat¡ª40 rounds gone, 32 walkers dropped, 64 survival points racked up, all his, thanks to his own gun. Guilan¡¯s crew battled tooth and nail too¡ªhim ripping walkers apart with an M16 like a butcher. Spotting Kevin jump in, Guilan¡¯s hard-ass mask slipped, and he flashed a shocked smirk. Glenor, old hand at this, pumped his shotgun, dropping walkers with every blast and slamming shells in smooth. The rest squared off with walkers too¡ªtotal shitshow, even kids clutching Uzis, unloading like it¡¯s the damn end! Some gray-haired vets, ex-soldier types, gripped rifles tight, nailing walkers clean. Anyone with a pulse hit the front¡ªhumanity versus ¡°them,¡± scrapping ¡¯til they dropped. But the walkers¡ªtoo damn many¡ªkept lurching in, dead-eyed and starving for blood. Kevin popped the empty mag and snapped his head up¡ªa walker was sneaking up on Guilan. Guilan drove his rifle butt into a walker¡¯s skull, blind to the bastard slipping in behind. Kevin barked a heads-up and cracked his pistol across the walker¡¯s dome, knocking it back. He jammed his knife in quick, blade ripping through with a wet crunch. Blood splattered as he twisted it, nailing it dead for good. Guilan went pale as hell. ¡°Watch it!¡± Kevin whipped around, face-to-face with jaws snapping for his shoulder¡ªBAM¡ªthe walker¡¯s head popped like a melon, and Melk¡¯s growl cut through: ¡°Dumbass, I said watch your back.¡± Melk¡ªdamn near too late. Kevin¡¯s legs wobbled, but he slapped on a dorky grin that screamed ¡°I¡¯m screwed.¡± Melk booted Kevin¡¯s ass hard. ¡°Move it! Back¡¯s swarming too¡ªI ain¡¯t your damn babysitter. Ain¡¯t playin¡¯ your fairy-tale hero neither, bonehead¡ªyou¡¯ll screw us both dead!¡± Kevin shot Glenor a quick ¡°what the hell¡± look¡ªboth too stumped to yap. Melk spun and barked, ¡°Eyes on, crew! Wanna live? My lead! Line up and scatter¡ªrifles snipe ¡¯em far, 100 feet plus. Shotguns blast mid-range, 30 to 90. Pistols face ¡¯em close, 30 or less! Guard your slice up front!¡± He stopped, eyes locking on some lug. ¡°Yo, fat-ass! You deaf or just slow as hell?!¡± Melk cackled like a loon, letting loose a bullet storm, shredding walkers into bloody mush. Carnage central. The guns kicked into high gear, flipping the fight. Defense locked tight, shots popping off clean¡ªwalkers dropped like flies, letting the crew catch a breath and slap in fresh rounds. Guilan chucked Kevin an Uzi with spare mags. Pumped as hell, Kevin clutched it like a lifeline, the Uzi rattling in his sweaty grip, spitting lead into walker meat. The fight roared on, but Melk jumping in¡ªplus those sweet wall perches¡ªlet ¡¯em shred hundreds in a nonstop hail of bullets. Kevin nailed 125 walkers, racking up 250 survival points¡ªtotal now 421. He¡¯d smoked past the 100 kills for Walker Hunter, chilling at 174. A light pinged, and Omnispace intoned: ¡°Worldhopper 4444 has secured Bronze-tier title: Walker Hunter. Effect: +5% walker damage. Activate now?¡± That 5% walker damage bump? Hell yeah, Kevin slotted it fast. Omnispace declared: ¡°Silver-tier Walker Killer title available. Progress: 174/500 kills.¡± Guess ¡°go big or go home¡± fits this dumbass move. Mowing down that many walkers ain¡¯t easy for a green Worldhopper like Kevin. Even playing it safe, he still caught some ugly gashes. Good thing his 40 HP base¡ªplus 10 from that brass ring and that vest¡¯s padding¡ªkept him clinging at 25 HP. Damn good the nursing home¡¯s med stash patched him up, staunching the blood. Slapped together, his HP ticked back up slow. Ammo burned low quick in the shitstorm¡ªsoon they¡¯re down to scraps, and night slammed down, swallowing all in pitch-black hell. Walkers turned meaner¡ªquicker, tougher, and damn unstoppable. Chapter 6: Crowd of Bastards Guilan barked, ¡°Move your ass, Prophet! You¡¯ve done enough¡ªget the hell outta here before you¡¯re walker chow.¡± Kevin didn¡¯t flinch, torn between bolting and sticking it out. Back door? Toast¡ªswarming with those nasty sons of bitches too. He hollered back, ¡°We roll out together, or we¡¯re screwed together! If we¡¯re toast, we go down swinging, damn it!¡± Kevin threw himself at the walker, jamming his knife into its throat with all his damn grit. The blade slipped¡ªshit¡ªripping his fingers open, hot blood splattering the walker¡¯s rotting hide. He was screwed, big time. Night walkers weren¡¯t just tough¡ªthey were beasts, stats jacked up to 8 or 9. Melk-level badass, and Kevin¡¯s ass was toast up close. He peeked at his battle log and winced hard. That bastard could smash him flat¡ªone hit, and he¡¯s a goner! Holy hell, ever see a lead this pathetic? Call the cops¡ªsue the author for this shit! Guilan had it locked. He barked at his crew to drop the first wall¡ªbricks crashed down, burying a ton of walkers in rubble. But the swarm kept coming, relentless as hell, pushing ¡¯em back to the courtyard¡¯s second wall. Kevin¡¯s eyes flicked around¡ªbam, a no-smoking sign sparked a wild idea in his head like a lightning bolt. ¡°Guilan, got any gas ¡¯round here?¡± Guilan didn¡¯t skip a beat¡ªhe barked at his crew to haul ass and grab gasoline, anything that¡¯d burn. Kevin snatched a gas can and bolted forward, sloshing it across the courtyard dirt, the sharp stink of fuel choking the air. He yanked out his lighter and flicked it¡ªboom, a roaring inferno blasted up, flames tearing into the night sky. Walkers hated fire and light, day or damn night, but these hunger-crazed freaks kept charging in, frying one after another into crispy husks. Everyone hustled to chuck more flammable junk on the blaze, scrambling to keep it kicking. A notification pinged in Kevin¡¯s face: plan worked¡ªkill points racked up sweet. Payday yet? Kevin was itching to check his battle log. He quick figured Omnispace didn¡¯t mess with loopholes¡ªfire-kill points got slashed hard, 5 crispy walkers for one point, barely 10% of what it was. Still, with walkers all over, Kevin racked up a solid 100 points¡ªnot a total bust. Half an hour later, the fire fizzled out, and those bastards crept closer, shadows stretching like hell. Gunshots cracked the night air again. By 1 a.m., the nursing home was screwed. Walkers swarmed in waves, flooding every damn corner. Out of ammo, the crew fell back to their last stand¡ªthe main hall. Walkers ripped a gaping hole in the steel door, and the survivors bunched up, gripping any sharp junk they could snag, jabbing at heads, eyes, mouths in pure desperation. Melk¡¯s voice came out flat, damn near dead. ¡°Told you¡ªyou¡¯re gonna get us all smoked.¡± Kevin ripped the metal pipe from a walker¡¯s skull with a grunt, flashing a shaky grin. ¡°Chill, bro, cut me some slack. You¡¯re a damn jinx on legs!¡± Melk¡¯s face stayed stone-cold as he droned, ¡°Warned you. We¡¯re all dead now, thanks to you.¡± Kevin, still yanking the pipe, barked back, ¡°How about some good vibes for once? You¡¯re a total buzzkill!¡± Glenor, panting hard, wheezed, ¡°We¡¯ve smashed a ton of ¡¯em¡ªthat¡¯s gotta count, right?¡± Melk just shook his head. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. More keep coming. This fight¡¯s a bust.¡± Kevin grit his teeth, thinking, Maybe it¡¯s a bust for you, Melk, but I¡¯ve racked up points aplenty. Too bad I¡¯m out of tricks to haul us outta this shit. Right when hope was toast, a cheer¡ªbam¡ªexploded from the back, ripping through the crowd fast. A nurse busted in, panting like hell, yelling about a whole damn fleet of big-ass rigs¡ªfortified buses included¡ªrolling up. The hall blew up with wild cheers. Glenor flashed a grin. ¡°Rikk and the crew finally hauled ass to save us. I radioed ¡¯em earlier.¡± *** Melk¡¯s face stayed grim as a brick, but Kevin was cracking up, grinning wide as Omnispace pinged his eyes: ¡°Worldhopper 4444. Mission: The Nursing Home¡¯s Downfall¡ªcompleted. Through courage, intellect, and justice, you prevented 82 human deaths, altered the forthcoming plot, and gained a 2% Plot Deviation Rate increase. As the initial completer of this hidden mission, you receive a 100% reward enhancement. As a first participant, you receive a 50% bonus. For overcoming adjusted difficulty (night combat, C-level, novice), you are granted an additional 50%. Total reward multiplier: 300%. Select two options: A. Strength +3 (was +1) B. Agility +3 (was +1) C. Stamina +3 (was +1) D. Intelligence +3 (was +1) E. Wisdom +3 (was +1) F. Charisma +3 (was +1) G. Hyper Serum¡ª100% Stamina restore.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Kevin was pumped as hell about these stat boosts¡ªshit, he knew how rare and badass they were. He later found out Omnispace didn¡¯t mess around with basic upgrades¡ªmissions juicing stats were scarce. Even hidden ones barely coughed up a +1. If luck hadn¡¯t swung his way and his calls hadn¡¯t synced with the main plot, he¡¯d be stuck on some lame-ass side gig, missing these sweet perks. After mulling it over, Kevin pumped Strength and Stamina. In Omnispace, it¡¯s all about surviving¡ªlast one upright grabs the prize. (No duh, right?) This newbie quest chucks you in deep¡ªsurvive a week or bust. Total wake-up slap for rookies. Stamina¡¯s the kingpin¡ªburn out, and you¡¯re toast. Kevin near bit it in that walker swarm. Without Melk, Glenor, Guilan, and the crew watching his back¡ªor medics stitching him up¡ªhe¡¯d be a goner. So when a sweet-ass chance like this pops up, picking the Stamina boost is a no-brainer. Kevin also snagged +3 Strength¡ªsick of getting shoved around by even the wimpiest walkers. In those fights, it¡¯s always up close and personal. Lose the upper hand, and you¡¯re screwed. With 7 Strength now, he¡¯s not snapping like a twig under some boot anymore. Then Omnispace pinged his eyes with a new title: ¡°Worldhopper 4444. Title awarded: Fire Captain. Rank: Silver-tier. Acquisition: Automatically granted for rescuing over 50 humans. Effects: Life-saving mission rewards increased by 30%. Favor with human faction characters automatically enhanced. Charisma checks for human interactions raised by +2.¡± A quick peek showed he¡¯d already nabbed the bronze-tier Fire Fighter title too¡ªunlocked at 20 saves¡ªsince he¡¯d pulled 82 people outta the fire. Next up: the gold-tier Fire Chief, needing 100 rescues. He¡¯s really close at 82/100. Kevin hadn¡¯t just lucked into another badass title¡ªhis relentless ass-kicking and sharp tricks had snagged the Walker Killer no damn fluke. The Walker Killer title is silver-tier, unlocked by wasting 500+ walkers. It boosts damage to those bastards by 10%, but¡ªheads-up¡ªyou¡¯re their first target now. Next up¡¯s the gold-tier Walker Slayer, needing 1,000 kills. Kevin¡¯s at 661/1,000¡ªclosing in fast. After slugging it out with walkers all night, he scored 7 white keys. Weird as hell, since weapons and fire tanked the loot rate. The keys didn¡¯t open jack¡ªjust coughed up some survival points and skill points. By the end, he¡¯d stacked 2,000 survival points and 2 skill points. Kevin got that skill points level up skills, depending on type and rank. He also got the scoop that Omnispace sometimes tosses in attribute points to juice basic stats¡ªnot this round, though. *** Kevin clocked Rikk rolling up, flanked by his crew. Middle-aged, dark curls, medium build, piercing eyes¡ªRikk was the damn lead of this end-of-the-world gig. Rikk and Melk locked eyes, tension sparking like a live wire. Melk sneered, dripping sarcasm, ¡°Sheriff Rikk, shocked I¡¯m still kicking?¡± Rikk¡¯s smile was ice-cold, fists balled tight. ¡°Deyl, T-Bone, and I hauled ass back for you.¡± Melk¡¯s face twisted bitter. ¡°Big deal¡ªI¡¯m minus a damn hand!¡± Rikk snapped, fury blazing, ¡°Melk, you brought this shit on yourself! Quit being a pain in the ass, and we¡¯d be fine!¡± Kevin almost jumped in, but a sharp chick¡¯s voice sliced through the crowd, ¡°Rikk, cool it!¡± Shockingly, Rikk shut up. Kevin eyed her¡ªnot Lorrah, but a short-haired badass who strutted like she ran HR at some corporate hellhole. Kevin stepped back, eyeing the bigger-than-expected crew. Familiar mugs like Aundra, Lorrah, T-Bone, and Sharn were there, but what threw him was each had a stranger tagging along¡ªnobodies he didn¡¯t clock from the story. Their gear and vibes rang a bell, though he couldn¡¯t pin it down. Then it hit him, replaying that Omnispace drop: he wasn¡¯t the only player in this shitshow. Newbies were paired with the big shots, soaking up lessons. Right then, a Mohawk kid spotted walkers pinned at the door¡ªfree points. He yelled, cocked his piece, and charged, blasting undead asses for score. The other rookies piled in, scrambling to stack points. Gunfire popped off everywhere in seconds. The main crew swapped pissed-off looks, fed up with the damn chaos. ¡°Move it!¡± Rikk snapped, throwing a hand up. The crew started peeling back, tripping over themselves toward the rides in a messy-as-hell scramble. Melk planted his feet, scowling like a pissed-off bull, all grit and no give. But Deyl wasn¡¯t taking that shit¡ªhe slammed Melk into the car with a hard shove. The wheels were set to burn rubber, but a few stragglers were AWOL. Rikk grimaced, giving the horn a quick tap. Unlike Sharn¡ªthe group¡¯s loose cannon¡ªRikk kept his cool. Sharn would¡¯ve ditched their asses already. Then Razor Hawk, king of the punk-ass newbies, swaggered in, blood-soaked and grinning like a jackass. He whistled loud, reloading his piece with a showy flick. ¡°Hell yeah! Top spot for Walker Hunter¡¯s mine!¡± A couple of his buddies crowed about their kills and loot, swinging guns like they¡¯d won the damn lottery. Kevin watched it all, soaking up the chaos in silence. The short-haired chick hit her limit. She wheeled on Razor Hawk, barking, ¡°We had a deal to stick tight! Why the hell¡¯d you bail like that?¡± Razor Hawk shrugged, playing dumb as hell. ¡°What? We¡¯re off walker-killing duty now? News to me.¡± He smirked like a creep, eyes glued to her chest, pulling chuckles from his crew. The chick steamed, arms crossed, spinning away from that jackass. She scoped the crowd, then clocked Kevin in the corner. Strolling over, she shot him a quick look and grinned. ¡°You¡¯ve been rolling with Melk. Held your own in the chaos, yeah?¡± Kevin flashed a blank grin. ¡°Sure, I¡¯ve got muscle, but walkers are a pain in the ass, and I¡¯m no speed demon. Good thing Melk had me loading his rounds.¡± A few dirty looks swung his way. Day two, and the rookies were jumping into the fray, getting cocky. Razor Hawk was already past a hundred kills, others piling up scores. Then there¡¯s this newbie, ducking the real action, claiming he¡¯s just the ammo bitch. The short-haired chick, sharp as hell at sniffing out crap, sized up Kevin¡¯s basic gear and figured he wasn¡¯t worth a damn. She almost grilled him on what he got from tagging with Melk, but smirked and bailed instead. Kevin hit it off fast with the chubby dude beside him, Mallow, a laid-back homebody like him. Mallow slipped into the crew smooth as butter the second he rolled in. No scars from wild shit, just a chill vibe that spilled everything¡ªKevin tossed a few easy questions, and they were yakking like old pals in no time. Omnispace had dumped a mess of new Worldhoppers into this world at once. Each got yanked from the jaws of death by a different vet in their own missions, setting up a mentor-rookie hookup. Take Mallow¡ªhe¡¯d nearly turned into walker bait till T-Bone swooped in and pulled his ass out. Mallow and T-Bone were an odd duo¡ªshort and pale versus tall and dark¡ªbut they clicked like nobody¡¯s business. Then there¡¯s Marissa, that short-haired chick always glued to Rikk. She had a knack for staying on his good side, whether with slick talk or¡­ well, who knows what else. Razor Hawk teamed up with Sharn, the group¡¯s resident shit-stirrer, a match made in chaos. Lorrah rolled with Sally, a blonde pal who vibed with her hard¡ªthey were tight as hell. But Sally and Marissa? Those two tied to the big shots couldn¡¯t stand each other, bickering over every damn crumb. Next to the Sword Lady stood Morimaru, a skinny Japanese kid straight outta some anime wet dream. Rocking a loud outfit that screamed cosplay nut, he still hauled a massive blade like a boss and dropped his name with swagger. This kid flashed a big grin, but something about him felt off. Kevin eyed his right hand, face going dark¡ªthose wide, beat-up knuckles screamed years of Kendo, no poser shit here. A Korean dude, Jungwoo, rolled up to Glenor, and they kicked off in fast Korean. Sharp jaw, pretty-boy looks¡ªtoo perfect to read his grit off the bat. So, the big bad, Governor Philip, had to have a Worldhopper in his pocket too, right? If so, that bastard probably knew every twist of this story. Was he gearing up to hit the crew hard, faster than anyone figured? Sweat popped on Kevin¡¯s brow. The newbies were a hot mess, and the enemy was getting sharper. Shit was turning bleak fast. Chapter 7: Five Bloody Jobs Kevin scoped the newbies around him, scratching his head over what the hell Omnispace saw in them. He figured he was a sharp dude, liked kicking back at home, mulling shit over, but this world¡¯s madness screwed with his head hard. Now, staring down survival¡¯s ugly mug, he knew one slip-up could mean lights out in the next 24 hours. Kevin pushed himself to stay on point, keep his edge, and not slack off for a damn second. Near as he could tell, Omnispace was cherry-picking folks with some real tricks up their sleeves. When it tossed newbies into the mix, Omnispace hooked them up with story vets based on their skills, plot gaps, and even their vibe¡ªone-on-one, like a coach and a rookie, probably just for these training gigs. With all these greenhorns grinding together, Omnispace¡¯d likely throw some team challenges their way to weld them into a tighter crew. Kevin, a lone wolf type, liked hanging back, grinding steady when the team shit clicked. If the crew pulled together and everyone scored something, he¡¯d step up and throw a hand¡ªno sweat. But if the backstabbing and bullshit kept rolling, he wasn¡¯t about to burn energy on those clowns. He¡¯d bounce solo and level his own game. Kevin scoped his new squad, zeroing in on Marissa, the wannabe ¡°leader.¡± She strutted like some office hotshot, all charm and slick lines to sell her fast climb. But Kevin didn¡¯t buy that crap. He clocked her game: a ladder-kisser riding Rikk¡¯s coattails, not real chops. No brains for strategy, no juice to fire up the crew, and no spine to lead¡ªpure flash, zero guts. Meanwhile, the new cat on Governor Philip¡¯s squad was still a total wild card. Outta nowhere, Mallow piped up next to him. ¡°Dude,¡± he croaked, voice all shaky, ¡°we could legit die here, you know?¡± Kevin cocked an eyebrow. ¡°What¡¯s your deal?¡± Mallow sucked in a big breath. ¡°I¡¯m losing my shit, man,¡± he stammered, voice wobbling. ¡°Yesterday, that new chick¡ªAmy¡¯s rookie¡ªgot bit. A walker nabbed her while we were hauling ass for cover. Amy had to ditch her.¡± He stopped, shaking his head. ¡°I saw her go down, man¡ªten feet off. Throat torn out, blood gushing like a horror flick.¡± Mallow kept shaking his head, still reeling. ¡°I thought this was some game¡ªlike a time-travel joyride or whatever,¡± he muttered. ¡°But this ain¡¯t playtime. Die here, you¡¯re toast. Life or death, man.¡± Kevin got it, hard. Just 24 hours back, he¡¯d been a couch king, parked in his AC, gaming, binging flicks, downloading junk¡ªthe full deal. Now he was stuck in this hellhole, feeling every scrape and ache, staring down death¡¯s ugly mug, scrapping to stay alive. *** The car screeched to a dead stop, and Rikk¡¯s loud voice smashed the quiet. ¡°Everybody out! Group up, now!¡± Kevin stumbled outta the ride, legs stiff from the long haul. After five brutal hours burning rubber in the dark, he clocked the first red streaks of dawn bleeding across the sky. Another shitshow day of chaos and blood was coming fast. The story crew and fresh meat piled up, faces dark as they scoped the mess. The caravan had ballooned past a hundred heads after snagging some old-timers from a nursing home, a big mob. But with all the creaky, weak, sick, and busted folks, less than fifty could actually throw down. After last night¡¯s ugly scrap, their ammo was running on fumes. Tension was thick as fuck. Rikk¡¯s voice roared through the morning chill. ¡°Alright, listen up! We¡¯re in deep shit here. One, food and water¡¯s near gone. Two, ammo¡¯s low, so we ain¡¯t scrapping anytime soon. Three, no safe spot yet¡ªsucks ass. Four, we¡¯re blind out here, no clue what¡¯s lurking. Here¡¯s the play: this morning, we hit the road and scrounge up some grub and bullets. Then, before the sun drops, we snag a spot to crash for the night. It¡¯s a big-ass haul, but we can pull it off if we stick tight. Move it!¡± A ping from Omnispace sounded in Kevin¡¯s head: ¡°Worldhopper 4444¡ªYou are now assigned to the main team. Your contribution is required to establish your value. Select one of the following branch missions: 1. Food Scout: Search a town within 5 miles to obtain food and water supplies. 2. Ammo Loader: Enter a police station within 5 miles to retrieve firearms and ammunition. 3. Shelter Builder: Locate a shelter within 5 miles and remove any threats. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. 4. Danger Lookout: Establish an observation post on high ground within 5 miles and eliminate any threats. Note: This task must be completed independently. Story characters will not provide assistance.¡± The fresh meat itched to roll out, but some of the chicks were twitchy as hell. They weren¡¯t exactly a powerhouse crew, and staying alive in walker-riddled woods was a brutal gig. Omnispace continued: ¡°5. Home Helper: Care for elderly and children requiring assistance. Ensure their well-being. Performance tracked. Note: Team leader Rikk sees nursing home as dead weight. Low reward expected.¡± Yeah, busywork bullshit, plain as day. The blood-junkies, like Razor Hawk, swarmed the Ammo Loader gig, whooping and hollering like jackasses. Kevin watched, gut screaming something was off¡ªthose pricks were probably scheming to hog all the bullets. Too bad Omnispace ain¡¯t that dumb; they¡¯d be shit outta luck. Marissa, all slick and chatty, roped a crew for the Shelter Builder gig. She strutted like some TV guru, flappin¡¯ her damn mouth about her insider scoop on the story¡¯s playbook¡ªspinning a wild yarn about the main crew stumbling on a locked-down prison a few miles off the highway, basically jumping the line to snag the juiciest loot. Her smooth talk and charm hooked most of the greenhorns into her prison raid. Sally wasn¡¯t buying Marissa¡¯s bullshit. She nabbed Morimaru¡ªthe dude with the monster sword¡ªplus Jungwoo and Mallow, and they peeled out for the Food Scout run. Mallow, the old face, sidled up to Kevin, pushing the ¡°safety in numbers¡± line hard. Kevin brushed him off with a quick ¡°nah.¡± He locked in on the Danger Lookout job. Every gig balanced risk and loot, so each job paid out fair. More bodies meant more rivals, less juice per head. Kevin knew that from scoring jack squat after borrowing a gun and roasting walkers¡ªOmnispace wasn¡¯t some dumbass system you could game. Razor Hawk couldn¡¯t stash the guns and ammo he nabbed, and Sally couldn¡¯t hog the food and water she dug up. They had to cough it all up. Marissa¡¯s big plan to ¡°hit the prison early and win¡± was pure horseshit! This was just a side hustle, nowhere near the main score. Even if they sniffed out that prison, Omnispace already said the story crew wouldn¡¯t lift a finger. With a pack of greenhorns and shitty gear, they¡¯d get fucked up trying to take it. In the original tale, half the cast got chewed up clearing that walker-infested dump! The Danger Lookout gig was a hot pick for a couple reasons: 1. Solo run¡ªkeep all the loot for yourself. 2. Right by camp¡ªbail fast if shit gets dicey. The story crew wouldn¡¯t lift a finger, but they¡¯d be too busy scrapping to bug you, so you¡¯d probably skate by. Before rolling out, the greenhorns got a hype-up from the big shots. Melk swaggered over to Kevin, smirked, and dropped, ¡°Man up, buttercup,¡± then peeled off. Kevin stood there, jaw slack. What the hell was that? I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯ve been up just fine, thanks. Rikk strolled up and hit him with, ¡°Ready, rookie?¡± ¡°Yeah, boss, I¡¯m good,¡± Kevin shot back, catching Rikk¡¯s nod of respect. ¡°But I¡¯m stuck with this rusty pistol and flying solo here.¡± ¡°Got it,¡± Rikk said. ¡°You¡¯re on lookout alone. Gear up, bring it back when you¡¯re done. Good luck.¡± He clapped Kevin¡¯s shoulder and bailed. Kevin scored an old M16 and a scope. Made sense¡ªKevin had snagged the Fire Captain title, landing him in Rikk¡¯s good books. That Charisma +2 perk patched up his shitty base Charisma of 2. With the greenhorns swiping gear like a pack of looters, Kevin was the last bastard stuck guarding the base. Naturally, the NPC crew tossed him some temp firepower and supplies to hold the line. Omnispace played fair, so scoring an M16 screamed trouble was inbound. Action was sure brewing today. First move: lock down a solid perch. Kevin scoped the area fast and picked a water tower two football fields out, sitting pretty on a hill. The tower stretched up like a four-story stack, and the hill jacked it another five, giving him a clean shot over the camp. Through his scope, Kevin could sweep a fat radius, spotting details miles out. Walkers¡¯d need half an hour to shamble a mile in daylight¡ªplenty of time to raise hell, hold the line, or haul ass back to camp. Man, these poor bastards were scraped dry. One peek at that rusty M16 said it all¡ªold as hell and stuck with four beat-to-hell 30-round mags. That¡¯s rock bottom right there. His banged-up pistol came with two mags and a measly 20 rounds. Shit was stretched razor-thin¡ªevery bullet had to count. Heading to the water tower, Kevin ran into a couple walkers, prime chance to flex his chops. Knife tucked in his belt, guns hot in his hands, he sucked in a breath and pushed on. Catch ¡®em sleeping, the blade¡¯d slice quick; too close, he¡¯d pop a headshot. He carved his way up, shoving past every walker in his path. Grand Theft Auto V ¡° Chapter 8: The Watchtower Right on the money, this spot was near perfect¡ªwide open with a killer view. Peering through the scope, Kevin could clock stuff miles out in every direction. A ping from Omnispace hit his head: ¡°Worldhopper 4444¡ªYou have secured optimal high ground and established a watchtower. Commence your mission.¡± Kevin hunkered down to keep an eye out. Two hours dragged by, and jack squat happened. Time to think shit over. Kevin needed a game plan for his next move. His stats were basic as sin, stuck at rookie level. That high-stakes hidden mission was his ticket to catch up with the average joe. No fancy skills or secret tricks up his sleeve¡ªhe felt like a goddamn weakling. Man, this blows ass! Mallow¡¯s hidden edge, Metabolism Rush, came with a weird catch: His body torched caLorrahes like a furnace, leaving him starving 24/7. Skip a meal, and his skills tanked hard. Flip side? He patched up 25% faster, and poison flushed out quicker than any standard Worldhopper. Word on the street was Marissa had the slickest talent going. She rocked something called Talent Charm, juicing her Charisma checks by 5 points. With that kinda mojo, dudes couldn¡¯t peel their eyes off her¡ªhell, no shock Rikk was so whipped he tuned out Lorrah¡¯s bitching. In Omnispace, one thing¡¯s crystal: a Worldhopper with no skills or grit is fucked six ways to Sunday, team or no team. So where the hell do I slot in? What¡¯s my gig¡ªranged shooter? Melee brawler? Tank? Healer? Scout? Kevin was drowning in his head, totally lost. Then a gunshot cracked the quiet. Kevin zeroed in fast¡ªthose greenhorn dipshits had stirred up a mess, raiding for guns, grub, and whatever else they could snatch. At three o¡¯clock, Razor Hawk and his crew weren¡¯t strutting anymore; they were bolting like scared rabbits, legs churning in a desperate sprint. Razor Hawk was hauling a duffel bag, probably stuffed with guns and ammo they¡¯d nabbed. They should¡¯ve smoked regular walkers no sweat, but panic and a shit-ton of dead closing in from every angle screwed them hard. Razor Hawk¡¯s crew was losing their minds. The last chick lagged back, and a walker nabbed her¡ªstill kicking. Flesh ripped off her as her screams bounced around, dragging on forever¡ªthen nada. Kevin¡¯s gut froze solid. That chick was a Worldhopper, same as him. ¡°Trouble comes in twos¡± hit the nail on the damn head again. At nine o¡¯clock, down in some podunk town, another walker horde was chasing a pack of sorry saps. That squat chub up front? Looked like Mallow and his posse. They¡¯d gone hunting for grub, only to end up on the menu. Kevin scoped the whole shitshow and clocked it: total clusterfuck. These two gangs of greenhorns didn¡¯t know jack about not dragging walkers back to camp. Razor Hawk¡¯s bunch were flipping out, bolting every which way, spooked stiff by the screams. No chance they¡¯d think straight. Mallow¡¯s crew wasn¡¯t faring much better. Kevin popped off a warning shot, the crack slicing the air like a whip. Rikk and the crew bolted out of camp. Kevin jabbed a finger at three o¡¯clock, then nine o¡¯clock, flagging fat walker packs both ways. Rikk¡¯s face went tight as hell, clocking the signals. He threw a wave and marched off. Kevin knew Omnispace had stacked the deck. These NPC chumps were useless¡ªnewbies making it back was a fucking coin toss. Then more shots popped off from the highway, and Kevin hauled ass to scope it. Holy shit¡ªMarissa¡¯s gang was booking it down the road, a walker horde riding their tails. Mixed in with the dead? Riot cop walkers, decked in heavy gear, lumbering like tanks. Kevin pieced it together: they¡¯d hit the prison jackpot. Bad news? These rookie jailbreakers got shoved back, dragging a shitload of walkers with ¡®em. Three hordes were beelining for the piss-small camp. ¡°No wonder they dropped four side gigs¡ªthe fourth¡¯s just a fucking lifeline for the other three. This game design¡¯s a total shitshow!¡± Kevin snarled. Out of moves, he popped off another warning shot to wake the camp. In no time, the place was a madhouse, NPCs scrambling to gear up for a scrap. Kevin shot a quick peek down the highway¡ªprime bailout road¡ªbut now it was lousy with walkers. Marissa, wobbling on those stupid heels, ate dirt hard. Some middle-aged sucker ahead of her didn¡¯t blink, doubling back to yank her up. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Then¡ª And holy shit¡ª Marissa jammed a dagger into the guy¡¯s thigh, snatched his rifle, bounced up, ditched the heels, and hauled ass like a pro¡ªno more tripping! Her Agility was off the charts. The dude howled like a banshee, leg gushing, ripe for the picking. Walkers piled on, dragging him down to the hard ground. Clocking Razor Hawk ditch his buddy and Marissa stab hers in the back, Kevin wrote off any quick save. He swung his M16 toward Mallow¡¯s spot¡ªnine o¡¯clock. That M16 could nail targets up to 600 yards out, but Kevin needed 100 yards clear to bolt if it went south. That gave him 500 yards to pop off before the walkers rolled up on his ass. No slick Medium Firearms Mastery perk for Kevin, so a dead-center shot was a crapshoot. Good thing walkers were thicker than flies on a dumpster¡ªhe¡¯d just spray and pray, bound to tag something. Truth be told, chilling up here on high ground, watching the chaos below, felt fucked up but damn good too. Right as a walker lunged for Mallow, a round smashed into it, sending the bastard flying. Mallow was so spooked he nearly bawled¡ªinches from being walker chow. Later, he waddled over to thank Kevin, eyes bugging out. ¡°Dude, you¡¯re hardcore as fuck! You wield pistols and that M16 like a pro. You train for that, or you just born badass?¡± Kevin didn¡¯t bat an eye, just flat-out owned he wasn¡¯t some M16 hotshot, and it damn near blew Mallow¡¯s skull apart. The little guy gawked, jaw on the floor, before choking out, ¡°Why the hell¡¯d you take that wild shot with a walker practically humping my back?¡± Kevin, balls-out shameless, shrugged it off¡ªsaid they weren¡¯t that tight, so it was a freebie save. Shooting walkers made more sense than not. Worst case, he¡¯d clip Mallow and spare him the hell of getting chowed down alive. Mallow was too stunned to even yap back. Kevin¡¯s trigger finger stayed hot up on the water tower, and the crew below caught a second wind, hauling ass double-time. After torching two mags, Kevin clocked Mallow and his posse damn near safe, so he flipped the script and sprayed cover fire every which way. Razor Hawk was a prick, no question, and Marissa? A slimy-ass snake in the grass. But screw it¡ªthey were still team, for now. The Governor was lurking out there, and bleeding bodies wouldn¡¯t help jack. Kevin burned through all four mags like a madman. With walkers so close he could damn near spit on ¡®em, he slid down from the water tower, cool as hell. His M16 game wasn¡¯t exactly pro-level, but those walkers were jammed up like sardines in a can¡ªspray-and-pray racked him up over 60 kills. His hail of bullets bought the other two crews some breathing room as they hauled ass, stalling the walker swarm just enough for ¡®em to limp back to camp by the skin of their damn teeth. ¡°Worldhopper 4444,¡± Omnispace chimed in as Kevin rolled into camp, ¡°Your Danger Lookout mission is complete. Rewards issued: 1,000 survival points, 2 attribute points, 2 skill points, and 136 additional survival points for walker eliminations. Team points gained: 10. Options for use: 1. Acquire team items, weapons, and equipment from Lorrah. 2. Acquire skills from any plot character. 3. Influence team decisions to a limited degree; locate Rikk.¡± The crew huddled up to tally heads and got hit with a gut punch¡ªthree greenhorns bit the dust in the shitstorm. Every mission tanked. Razor Hawk pussed out and dumped the jacked gun bag¡ªtotal bust. Sally¡¯s food and water grab was a lousy joke¡ªanother flop. Marissa¡¯s posse sniffed out the safe house, but got shoved back¡ªstrike three. These clowns didn¡¯t level jack, and they owed Kevin big for pulling their asses out of the fire. Kevin played it chill, shrugged it off as dumb luck, and acted like it was no big deal. The two chicks who couldn¡¯t swing a fist stayed back at camp, patching folks up and raking in decent loot. Go figure¡ªthey outscored the meathead hotshots who had brawn but no brains. At the team powwow, the newbies who usually ran their mouths a mile a minute clammed up fast. After a quick huddle, the squad nailed down the game plan: hold walkers off from three sides and send some poor bastard to snatch those ditched guns for extra juice. Chapter 9: Close Combat As the defense kicked off, Kevin posted up by Melk, who eyeballed the mopey newbies and snorted, ¡°Well, you¡¯re the sharpest knife in this shit pile.¡± Kevin cracked a grin back. ¡°That¡¯s ¡®cause I got a badass teacher, and they¡¯re stuck with squat.¡± Melk¡¯s mug went stone-cold. ¡°I don¡¯t do disciples, so quit slathering on the butter, kid¡­¡± ¡°You pulled my ass out of the fire and drilled me hard,¡± Kevin shot back, dead serious. ¡°You¡¯re my teacher, man. No you, no me standing here.¡± Melk blew him off, fiddling with his guns like he didn¡¯t hear a word. Off in the distance, the three walker packs had fused into one giant, ugly mob shambling straight for camp. ¡°Listen up, kid,¡± Melk growled low. ¡°Save your ammo. Grab a blade or something¡ªno guns.¡± ¡°Boss, you shitting me?¡± Kevin blurted, eyes popping out of his skull. ¡°This ain¡¯t no fucking joke,¡± Melk rasped back. ¡°It¡¯s live or die, toughen up or wimp out. You in?¡± Clocking Melk¡¯s dead-serious vibe, Kevin straightened up and locked eyes with him. Melk¡¯s voice dripped with hate and gritty steel. ¡°Don¡¯t you run! Trouble hits, you stare it down¡ªno pussyfooting back! Fight like hell¡ªyou might just crawl out alive. God ain¡¯t handing you no free pass; He wants you kicking to take more pain. Turn tail, and you¡¯re dead faster¡­ and uglier.¡± Kevin couldn¡¯t shake the thought¡ªwhat kind of hellhole had Melk clawed out of to turn this goddamn twisted? Melk¡¯s tone turned to ice. ¡°You can¡¯t outrun fate, kid. Don¡¯t wanna be walker chow? Get tougher, quicker, and nastier than those rotting bastards.¡± Kevin rolled his eyes hard. ¡°Man, this ain¡¯t the Olympics. Who¡¯s gotta play hero? Popping walkers does the trick, yeah?¡± Melk got up in his grill, eyes blazing with some wild fire Kevin couldn¡¯t wrap his head around. ¡°Hands, kid. That¡¯s the deal.¡± He let it hang, heavy as hell. ¡°Get in their face. Shank their skulls. Bust their chests. Smear that pretty mug with guts. You with me?¡± Kevin blinked, caught off guard, but he knew Melk wasn¡¯t budging¡ªstubborn as a brick wall. So, with a blank stare, he yanked out his blade. Melk chucked a rusty metal bar his way, eyes glued to Kevin. ¡°Fight like a damn man! Ram this sucker through their skulls!¡± Kevin snatched it tight, primed to throw down. The brawl kicked off. This was the fattest scrap yet for the greenhorns, and Kevin¡¯s first real up-close tangle with walkers. He scrambled up a metal bus, looming over the suckers. He jammed the bar into their heads, squashing ¡®em like roaches, then hopped to the next. Kevin kept at it, slamming his weapon through skulls. Early on, he froze up a bit, jittery about getting in their faces. But once he clocked that walkers couldn¡¯t climb worth a damn, the shakes melted away. He leaned in, going for broke on every kill. Melk worked the dagger strapped to his right hand, carving walker heads open with each swing. Dude was so jacked up, he even barked a couple tips at Kevin mid-fight. ¡°Hey, bonehead! No fancy moves¡ªjust finish the job! Save your juice!¡± ¡°Listen up, ya clown! Duck low, get in tight, and smack ¡®em hard!¡± Taking Melk¡¯s rough-ass orders to heart, Kevin dropped walkers left and right. The stack of stiffs kept piling up, and now those damn freaks were clawing up the bus! ¡°Check it¡ªthis is how a real man throws down! Get nastier, ha!¡± Melk hacked a walker¡¯s head clean off with one swing, booted another off the bus, then spun and jammed the pipe straight through the third¡¯s eye hole. Guy moved slick as a cat¡ªsmooth as hell for a two-hundred-pound tank. Kevin went nuts too, hollering as he got up in the walkers¡¯ mugs. These slow creeps were all stumble and no game¡ªthat was their soft spot. Melk¡¯s tip echoed in his skull: toy with ¡®em, wait for the lunge, juke, then hit back. Walkers moved stiff and twitchy, like their bodies were busted. Kevin kept it simple: stab the head with his blade or bar, rip it out, and watch the sucker flop. But the walkers kept rolling in, stacking up on the bus roof. While dodging, Kevin ate it hard¡ªtripped and landed right in a walker¡¯s grip. He got tore up¡ªslashed across the thigh, blood gushing like a damn fountain. That fresh blood smell flipped the walkers into a feeding frenzy. Kevin saw red, bellowing like a beast, no way he¡¯d back off. Ain¡¯t no chance he¡¯d go out like a punk in this walker swarm. He roared on, swinging wild to keep the bastards at bay. Somebody was gonna bite it, and it sure as hell wasn¡¯t him! If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Hey, dipstick! Save your breath for swinging¡ªzip that yap!¡± Melk¡¯s voice thundered. Kevin¡¯d been scrapping for thirty minutes and felt beat to hell. Worldhopper might be some slick data toy, but it clocked how wiped you were¡ªtied right to your Stamina. Kevin was still hanging tough, all thanks to that hidden mission loot. His Stamina hit 7 now¡ªoutpacing most hardasses. Walkers kept flooding in. Every inch of scrapping ground was jammed. Rikk yelled at the greenhorns to save ammo and get in close. But those rookies weren¡¯t exactly jazzed about cozying up to the dead. Razor Hawk¡¯s crew ran dry on ammo. They¡¯d held their own at first, but now, out of bullets, they were just dead weight. What, they gotta dive in like Kevin and tussle with these creeps? Fear had ¡®em bunched up in the back, locked up tight, scared shitless. Kevin clocked he¡¯d scored 3 survival points for smashing walkers up close, topping the shitty 2 from popping ¡®em. Omnispace chimed in: ¡°Survival points scale with enemy difficulty. Hand-to-hand combat, the grittiest and diciest way, yields the fattest rewards.¡± That lit a fire under him to stick tight with Melk in the close-up brawl. An hour later, everybody¡ªplot characters and all¡ªwas beat to hell. But hold up¡ªthe nastiest riot police walkers rolled into the swarm, staggering toward the vehicle wall! ¡°Light ¡®em up!¡± Rikk tossed doubts out the window; waiting more was a death wish. Bullets smashed into the riot cops¡¯ helmets. Sparks popped, but those shaky bastards kept lumbering on. ¡°Their armor¡¯s too damn thick, headshots ain¡¯t cutting it!¡± Sharn hollered. ¡°We gotta hold off ¡®til they¡¯re close, then scrap ¡®em one by one,¡± Aundra piped up. The crew zeroed in on dropping the regular walkers, letting the riot cops barrel toward the wall. Then the nasty-ass brawl kicked off. Melk pounced like a panther¡ªquick and deadly. He tore the riot cop¡¯s visor up and jammed his blade right into the walker¡¯s hollow eye hole. Then, like a pops gearing up his tyke, he smashed the visor back down. ¡°Good job, champ,¡± he growled low, like he was talking to his own kid. ¡°Daddy¡¯s got your back, punk. Now haul ass, little cop!¡± He landed a sharp kick, sending the sucker flipping off the bus roof. But hold up¡ªMelk couldn¡¯t help himself and snagged a peek. He nabbed a helmet a nearby walker dropped. The stench? Foul as hell, worse than a dumpster fire! He spat a curse and slammed it onto the walker¡¯s noggin. Kevin caught Melk¡¯s move and dove in. Bam! He smashed his pipe into the cop¡¯s helmet, rattling its skull. Then, smooth as shit, he rammed his blade under the chin and straight through the cop-walker¡¯s head. Boom¡ªthat sucker dropped! Guess what? Omnispace hit Kevin with a fat 10 survival points. His eyes popped like he¡¯d won the lottery. New gig: waste those cop-walkers. First, whack ¡®em with the pipe, then shank the knife through their skulls. Dropping these riot cops felt so fucking good. Good thing for Kevin, these dumbass cops were strapped with guns but too brain-dead to shoot. Otherwise, he¡¯d have been toast ages ago. Kevin stuck to the drill, smoked another riot cop, and¡ªholy crap! A light green key clinked onto the deck. In the newbie grind, keys were rare as hell. Omnispace must figure gear¡¯s the real deal. Maybe this light green key came off a riot cop with a fancy degree. Kevin popped that key open on the spot. Usually, Omnispace just tosses you some survival points. But this time, a green vortex spun up outta nowhere. Kevin shoved his hand in¡ªwarm and slimy, like digging into some freaky jelly from another dimension. Bam! He yanked out a slick piece of gear. A Bulletproof Vest: Type: Half-body armor Grade: Light green Weight: 6 lbs Material: Alloy steel and nylon Effect: Cuts physical damage by 10%, shrugs off 50% firearm hits, and blocks fatal shots in covered spots. A real game-changer¡ªKevin strapped it on fast. Shit was hitting the fan on the other vehicle roofs, especially where the newbies bunched up. Nobody had the guts to square up with these bulletproof cop-walkers. It was a mess¡ªfolks froze, ducked around, and it took a whole squad just to drop one of those bastards. Kevin clocked Morimaru swinging a massive blade that flashed in the light. For a so-called newbie, this guy carved through walker necks like a badass, heads popping off left and right. This kid¡¯s no lightweight, Kevin thought. Morimaru¡¯s moves are crisp and smooth¡ªhis sword game¡¯s gotta be top-notch. A walker busted through the line and tumbled off the roof into the circle below, charging the crowd of old folks, wimps, and kids packed inside. Kevin jumped down, jamming his knife into the walker¡¯s skull¡ªsee ya, creep. But hold up¡ªanother walker slammed down right on his back. Drool dripping everywhere¡ªnasty as hell! Kevin flipped out, yelling, ¡°Get the fuck off me!¡± That thing moved like lightning, chomping down on his left shoulder. ¡°Son of a bitch¡ª¡± Kevin¡¯s vision started fading. Then¡ªbam!¡ªa gunshot ripped the walker¡¯s head into chunks. Kevin crashed to the deck. Through the pain fog, Omnispace¡¯s icy voice cut in: ¡°Worldhopper 4444, a walker tagged you for 34 HP bite damage. Its chomp triggered Bleeding: 5 HP per second, 5 seconds straight. The walker¡¯s bite inflicted a Tearing effect: severe damage to your left arm. Strength assessment completed; no crushing damage sustained. Physical walker hit detected¡ªcontamination check initiated. Stamina at 8, Willpower at 2. Running the scan¡­ Contamination check completed. Infection confirmed: unknown zombie virus acquired. Per Omnispace protocol, the zombie virus will activate in 7 days.¡± Chapter 10: On the Edge A swarm of Omnispace alerts flashed across Kevin¡¯s eyes before the dark rolled in. He started with 3 Stamina, jacked up by a 1-point difficulty bonus, a 3-point hidden task haul, and 1 more from that brass ring¡ª8 Stamina total, 80 HP left to burn. This time, one walker hit racked up 39 tearing damage, 10 crushing damage, and 25 bleeding damage¡ª74 HP total. Kevin¡¯s hanging on by a damn thread. Good thing that Bulletproof Vest ate 10% of the physical hit, or that bastard would¡¯ve been Kevin¡¯s fucking end. Worldhopper health thresholds: mild injury at 80%, serious at 50%, critical at 10%. Critical status reached: natural healing disabled. Medication required, or termination imminent. Kevin¡¯s head was swimming, lost in old kid memories. Some faint tune hummed¡ªclose yet miles away. Grandma used to say you hear music when death¡¯s creeping up. This it for me? Then, through the haze, Mallow¡¯s voice scratched through the fog, ¡°Yo, bro, take this.¡± Mallow jammed a chunk of bread into Kevin¡¯s mouth. His throat was dry as hell, but he chewed anyway. Warmth hit his gut like a shot, and strength started creeping back. He sucked in a deep breath, chugged water from some nurse nearby, and caught Mallow grinning wide. ¡°What¡¯d you shove in me? I was damn near toast,¡± Kevin said, gratitude all over his voice. ¡°Yo, bro, it¡¯s this Energy Toast I snagged,¡± Mallow shot back. ¡°Found it scavenging a grocery joint. Special health grub¡ªpumps 30 HP back if you¡¯re outta combat. Grabbed it, alarm tripped, walkers swarmed, and we bolted. Just fed it to you.¡± Kevin eyed him. ¡°Why¡¯d you pull me through?¡± Mallow shrugged. ¡°You had my back first, man. Blasted those creeps earlier. Just squaring it up.¡± Kevin nodded hard. ¡°We¡¯re tight now, no doubt. Debt¡¯s cleared. From here on, we¡¯re brothers, through the shit and the shine.¡± The little dude¡¯s eyes popped wide. ¡°Man, that¡¯s slick! I always pegged you for a badass¡ªa legit hero. Having a guy like you watching my back in this hellhole might just keep me kicking a bit longer.¡± Teams were a thing in Omnispace, but newbies like them couldn¡¯t roll their own yet¡ªgotta join up with the big dogs first. Shouldn¡¯t be long before they can squad up for real, though. They swapped contact digits to ping each other or shoot the breeze whenever. Mallow picked ¡°Soft Marshmallow¡± for his tag¡ªguess this chubby candy freak¡¯s got a sweet tooth. His trick, Metabolism Rush, we¡¯ve been over¡ªStamina started at 4, juiced to 6 with that 50% newbie boost. Tougher than your average Joe, but the rest of his skills? Meh, just regular dude stuff. Kevin checked in with Mallow, who said he¡¯d been out cold for eight hours. Third morning already. Kevin sucked in a big breath and scrolled through last night¡¯s fight log. No shockers¡ªthe ¡°Defend the Camp¡± gig wrapped up, dishing out the usual haul: 1,000 survival points, 2 attribute points, and 2 skill points. Kevin smoked 152 walkers too, racking up 400 survival points¡ª3 a pop for melee kills, 2 with a gun. Plus, he snagged 4 white keys, worth about 100 points all told. After that wild-ass fight, a new ping hit his mind: ¡°Worldhopper 4444, in a brutal melee clash, you carved up a hefty chunk of enemies with close-up weapons, unlocking your potential and auto-mastering Melee Mastery. Level: 1 Effect: Enhances melee weapon skill, passively increasing melee damage by 5%. We encourage Worldhoppers to test diverse combat styles. Engage actively, tap your potential, meet the criteria, and master skills independently. Skills earned via self-training or mission arcs outclass those juiced up with skill scrolls at the same level, offering greater growth and faster scaling.¡± If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. So, Omnispace plays it straight¡ªbig risks, big payoffs. Kevin wondered if nearly biting it would score him some defense points. But even if it did, who¡¯d be nuts enough to gamble their neck for that shit? He figured he¡¯d chill till his HP topped off, then rolled outta bed to gear up for the next scrap. Sun poked over the horizon again, and the vehicle camp was locked down¡ªfor now, anyway. While Kevin was knocked out, walkers hit hard. Shit looked bleak till Jungwoo and his mentor Glenor roared back on bikes, hauling the guns and ammo Razor Hawk dumped. With that firepower, the camp crew blasted the walkers clean outta there. Kevin caught Jungwoo yapping and laughing with Rikk and the gang, probably racking up mad team points and loot. Razor Hawk was pissed as hell, and Marissa¡¯s squad was steaming with jealousy. That¡¯s how it rolls¡ªthe grunts who bust their asses get the side-eye every damn time. But Kevin didn¡¯t walk away with squat. Rikk was pumped to see him back on his feet. ¡°Hey, man, you¡¯re a straight-up hero! Saved at least four heads back there and fought like a madman to hold the camp. We owe you big.¡± A ping flashed up¡ªteam points jumped to 25, all from his grind. Kevin had scoped the team points stash before, but nada caught his eye. Gear prices were off the charts, and he didn¡¯t need that junk anyway. Deyl¡¯s crossbow was the slickest piece, but it ran a fat 1,000 team points. What really hooked him were the skills the story crew rocked. Rikk had Speech Mastery at level 6¡ªguy could talk his way outta a damn coffin. Sharn was a monster with heavy guns, Medium Firearms Mastery clocking level 7. Deyl was a beast with that slick crossbow, Crossbow Mastery hitting level 7. Melk and Deyl tracked like damn hounds, both rocking Tracking at level 6. Rikk and Melk were melee kings too, packing level 6 Melee Mastery and Small Firearms Mastery. Omnispace had mentioned skills come from scrolls you snag or trade, no word on cost or grind though. Kevin figured they ain¡¯t cheap¡ªmore skills mean more badassery, juicing up your fighting and crafting game without clogging inventory slots. So, Kevin pegged these skills as his big play, thinking about dumping his scarce points right there. For the rundown, level 1 skills run 100 team points, level 2¡¯s 300, and level 3 hits 500. Worth it, though. Kevin reckoned everyone¡¯d clocked this, no wonder they¡¯re hyped as shit over team points. Bet your ass the crew¡¯s gonna claw harder for those points down the line. ¡°Alright, everyone gather up,¡± Rikk called, voice steady and loud. ¡°We held off the walkers for now, but staying here¡¯s asking for trouble. Marissa¡¯s crew didn¡¯t finish their mission, but they scored a solid win¡ªa fortified prison a few miles out. Good thing too.¡± Rikk tossed Marissa a quick grin, and she nodded back, eyes practically lit up. Kevin nearly choked on his spit. Shit was obvious¡ªthose two had some deal brewing behind closed doors. Marissa¡¯s getting the VIP pass thanks to their little fling, no doubt. The poor saps who went with her on that prison scout? Clueless pawns, totally in the dark. Rikk went on, ¡°We need to stick together and secure a safe spot before nightfall. Plenty of work ahead¡ªload up the vehicles.¡± Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up to that prison they¡¯d heard about. From the rides, they scoped it: electric fences, tall walls, watchtowers¡ªdefense gold. One big hitch, though: walkers everywhere. The prison was packed with walkers¡ªex-inmates and guards shambling all over. The team had to sweep the dark cells clean before they could set up camp. Omnispace dropped a new mission: ¡°You¡¯ve pulled the team through the mess for now, but a safe spot¡¯s still out there. Go solo into the prison, wipe out every walker in Zone D, no help from plot characters. Earn team points and extras based on how you handle it.¡± Teamwork wasn¡¯t on the table, but the payout was team points¡ªprobably a hefty stack. Everyone knew it was worth the gamble. Right as the task popped, Razor Hawk and his boys smashed a door down, hollering like lunatics as they stormed in. Marissa grabbed some folks and led with that jacked rifle through another way, but after screwing the old man last time, half her crew bailed on her ass. Jungwoo and Morimaru split off solo, while Sally roped in a bigger posse to tail her. Mallow stuck with Kevin. ¡°Kevin, I¡¯m stuck to you like glue. You are the boss now. Whatever you call, I¡¯m in¡ªno bullshit.¡± Kevin spat a rough chuckle. ¡°Let ¡®em run off. We¡¯re finding a spot¡­ and something else.¡± Mallow¡¯s voice cracked a bit. ¡°They¡¯re already in there, piling up points off walker kills. What¡¯s our move?¡± Kevin flashed a grin. ¡°Mallow, name one time I¡¯ve tanked.¡± Mallow scratched his head. ¡°You play fast and loose sometimes, but damn if you don¡¯t always scrape by.¡± Kevin drew his pistol and marched into Zone D, Mallow tailing tight. Chapter 11: The Generator Room Kevin held a knife in his left hand, pistol in his right, slicing through the damn black prison pit. Mallow trailed close, twitchy but zipped up for once. Moving through that place was a damn nightmare¡ªpower out, corridors black as death, choking and frigid. Mallow clutched the shovel his teacher handed him¡ªbasic as hell, but a walker-killer: skull-smashing, throat-jabbing, limb-snapping. Plus, that reach kept him out of biting range. As they crept through the prison, Mallow clocked the open cell doors¡ªdead prisoners slumped out front, hands tied, eyes wrapped tight. ¡°Boss¡­ what the hell¡¯s this?¡± Mallow whispered, voice shaky as hell. ¡°Guards smoked ¡®em when shit went south,¡± Kevin said, voice cold as hell. ¡°Those guards were brutal!¡± Mallow yelped, panic spiking. Used to kicking back at home, the sight of corpses rattled him bad. ¡°Where we headed?¡± Mallow asked, edging closer to Kevin. ¡°Generator room,¡± Kevin answered, not even glancing back. ¡°But it¡¯s busted, right?¡± Mallow pressed, recalling the setup. ¡°What¡¯s the point?¡± ¡°I¡¯m asking you¡ªwhat¡¯s ¡®Clear Zone D¡¯ mean?¡± Kevin shot back. ¡°Kill every walker,¡± Mallow said quick. ¡°No walkers left, we¡¯re golden.¡± ¡°But they¡¯re all over, hiding in the dark,¡± Kevin pointed out. ¡°Tracking ¡®em all down could take ages.¡± ¡°Big joint, no lights, dead quiet. We¡¯d have to hit every room. Even busting our tails till dark, we might miss some, and time¡¯s ticking.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t freak¡ªI¡¯ll drag those walkers to us,¡± Kevin said, smirking like he ran this shithole. ¡°That alarm trick from the story? Luring ¡®em with noise?¡± Mallow¡¯s eyes lit up, then faded fast. ¡°But boss, won¡¯t that just pull every damn one to the speaker outside? It¡¯s just us two¡ªhow we taking ¡®em all?¡± Kevin chuckled, cool as ice. ¡°Chill, man. I already snagged the speaker and stashed it in my Spatial Sigil. You can hide stuff there if it ain¡¯t too huge.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t stress the walkers,¡± Kevin added, leaning in. ¡°Marissa already cut their numbers, dragging a bunch to the vehicle camp last night. Zone D¡¯s even lighter¡ªstory characters plugged the gaps. Omnispace ain¡¯t sending us to die. Plus, this prison¡¯s setup? We¡¯re gaming it.¡± ¡°But boss, we got another snag. Neither of us knows jack about wiring. How the hell we fixing that generator?¡± ¡°Think about that dude in the story who patched the generator,¡± Kevin said, eyes sharp. ¡°He drew a mess of walkers to the prison, then sliced the fence open. That¡¯s what took out Lorrah and half the crew¡ªbig damn twist. Omnispace ain¡¯t tossing us a death trap. So, I¡¯m betting the generator room¡¯s got spare parts and a manual stashed somewhere.¡± Mallow nodded hard. ¡°Yeah, that tracks! I¡¯m with the right guy, no doubt. I remember that bit¡ªhow¡¯d I not clock this move?¡± Kevin and Mallow pushed through the prison¡¯s gloom, daylight outside but pitch-black inside. The cells felt like midnight had crashed in. Walkers love the dark¡ªnoses and ears sharper than human senses, beefed up at night, making ¡®em nastier in this hole. Kevin picked off walkers from range with clean shots, flipping to his knife when they got too close to dodge. Mallow waved a flashlight to light Kevin¡¯s way, swinging his shovel at stragglers. Kevin said close-up kills racked up more points, so Mallow leaned hard into the shovel. Their teamwork sucked at first, but they got tighter clearing the cells. *** Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Mallow booted the door wide, exposing three walkers in guard gear. Bam! He smashed his shovel into the nearest one¡¯s skull. Another lunged at him, but Kevin popped it clean between the eyes. Kevin tackled the third, slamming it down, then jammed his knife through its head. Wiping sweat off his face, Mallow panted, ¡°Boss, this the generator room?¡± Kevin scoped the place. ¡°Stay sharp¡ªkeep your eyes open for walkers. They could be lurking in the shadows.¡± Mallow nodded, then hustled over to a walker and frisked its pockets. Jackpot! He grinned wide, yanking out a light green key that glowed soft in the murk¡ªnothing like the usual white ones. Kevin and Mallow scoped the key up close. Mallow passed it over, ¡°Here you go, boss.¡± ¡°You nabbed it, you pop it open,¡± Kevin shot back. ¡°Nah, boss, you¡¯re the head honcho¡ªyou handle it,¡± Mallow pushed. ¡°We¡¯re a crew, so it¡¯s fifty-fifty. That¡¯s the deal,¡± Kevin said, tone hard as nails. Mallow¡¯s brain spun, flashing back to what other newbies had spilled. Razor Hawk¡¯s posse? Boss hogged the lion¡¯s share, tossing crumbs to the rest. Marissa¡¯s squad was the same¡ªshe even shook down solo runners for a slice. Sally? Fifty-fifty, sure, but it was half for her, half split among the grunts. Kevin, his boss, was laying out a square deal. Mallow, just some regular joe on the team, felt a twinge of heat in his cheeks. ¡°Boss, I¡¯m real grateful you¡¯re playing fair,¡± Mallow mumbled, tripping over his words. ¡°But look, if you think I earned it, take 60¡ªI¡¯ll grab 40. Or screw the split altogether. This even-steven deal won¡¯t hold up forever.¡± Kevin caught Mallow¡¯s honest vibe and gave a quick nod to the 60-40 split. Mallow¡¯s shaky hands turned the key. A green flash lit the room as he yanked a pair of glowing green boots from the portal. Kevin and Mallow were hyped as hell, eyes locked on the boots while they checked ¡®em out. Feather Boots: Backstory: Speedy Gonzales, a slick thief from Silverymoon City, was known for outrunning everybody. He¡¯d swipe loot and taunt the chasers with a cocky ¡°Catch me if you can!¡± Till he jacked the mayor¡¯s necklace¡ªguards nabbed him, stripped his boots, and cracked the speed secret. Weight: 3 lbs Effects: Agility +2, movement speed +30%, evasion +5% The Feather Boots looked solid and handy, probably worth a fat stack. Snagging a light green key off a random walker was already a score, but popping it open for rare green gear? Pure dumb luck. Splitting the haul was a mess. Kevin and Mallow, both greenhorns in Omnispace, hadn¡¯t hit HQ yet, so they were clueless on the boots¡¯ real price. Mallow pitched Kevin taking ¡®em first, checking the value at HQ, then sliding him 40% later. Kevin, big-hearted as ever, waved it off and shot 2,000 survival points to Mallow instead. Mallow¡¯s eyes bugged out. ¡°Boss, you¡¯re a damn lifesaver! Newbie trial¡¯s kicking my ass, and I ain¡¯t spent a point yet¡ªbarely scraped up under 200. You¡¯re the real deal!¡± Kevin spat a laugh, cool as fuck. ¡°Those boots are worth some serious shit, and 2,000 points might not even hit 40% of it. We¡¯ll scope the real number at Omnispace HQ and square it up then.¡± Mallow shook his head. ¡°No way, man, survival points ain¡¯t cheap. Regular walker¡¯s just 2 points, 3 if you bash ¡®em up close. Sure, they¡¯re weaker than us newbies, but they¡¯ll still mess you up. These 2,000 points? That¡¯s 1,000 walker kills¡ªworth way more than 40% of them boots.¡± Kevin slapped Mallow¡¯s shoulder and scooped up the Feather Boots. Once he slipped ¡®em on, his legs felt light as hell, speed jacked up 30%. These boots were gold¡ª2 Agility, 5% Evasion, perfect for scrapping up close or popping shots from range. Stats that good screamed they were worth a helluva lot more than they¡¯d figured. Mallow waved a booklet, eyes popping. ¡°Boss, get a load of this!¡± Kevin hustled over, finding Mallow buzzing like a kid. He held up a ragged manual¡ªThe Generator Repair Guide! They kept digging and hit a room stacked with spare parts. Mallow froze, jaw dropped¡ªthey had all the gear to fix the generator! Mallow hollered, ¡°Boss, you¡¯re a damn genius! How¡¯d you piece this together?¡± Kevin chuckled. ¡°Alright, you tell me¡ªwhere we at?¡± ¡°The prison, duh.¡± ¡°And what¡¯s a prison gotta do?¡± ¡°Keep the bad guys locked up, no shit.¡± ¡°Spot on,¡± Kevin said, cool and sure. ¡°Think it through. Prisons need juice for everything¡ªcell blocks to cage the inmates, fences to trap ¡®em, floodlights for night, radios for when it hits the fan. Most U.S. joints got laws saying backup generators are a must. So even if we miss parts here, another power stash is probably kicking around.¡± Mallow couldn¡¯t peel his eyes off Kevin. Guy was sharp as hell, no denying it. ¡°Quit staring like a dumbass,¡± Kevin laughed. ¡°It¡¯s just street smarts. But before we mess with the generator, we gotta set some shit up first.¡± Chapter 12: Rig the Burn Kevin and Mallow hauled ass, dead set on firing up the generator quick. Noon on day three hit, and walkers were due to juice up again by night. They¡¯d already wormed into the prison, inside and out, so Kevin and Mallow had to sweep it clean before dark, or they were screwed. Two hours later, the wiped-out pair got a ping from Omnispace: ¡°Worldhopper 4444, you and Worldhopper 4445 have nailed the generator fix and cleared the hidden mission¡ªPrison¡¯s Hidden Danger. The juiced-up generator¡¯s bringing power back, beefing up the prison¡¯s defenses. By patching it, the NPC team sniffed out the prison¡¯s weak spot early, making it a tougher nut for enemies to crack. This flipped the script on key NPC fates. All this bags you a 3.6% Plot Deviation Rate boost. Your total¡¯s now 5.6%, and Rikk, Lorrah, and Cahl are tight with you now!¡± ¡°Based on your performance, with a 50% bonus for the trial environment and another 50% bonus for Worldhopper difficulty, select one of these five rewards: A. Increase one of the six basic attributes by +2 (was +1). B. Increase one of the six hidden attributes by +2 (was +1). C. 100 team points. D. One bottle of Hyper Serum (restores 100% health). E. One piece of dark green gear (randomly selected). After completing Prison¡¯s Hidden Danger, this task won¡¯t be issued again.¡± ¡°We fuckin¡¯ struck gold, boss!¡± Mallow¡¯s face lit up like a kid¡¯s. ¡°Fixing a generator for a secret mission? Didn¡¯t call that. These rewards are nuts, and we get to pick from five? Too many options!¡± Kevin frowned, muttering low, ¡°That¡¯s a drag.¡± ¡°What? Why the sour look?¡± Mallow asked, thrown off. ¡°We¡¯re probably not the first Worldhopper crew to pull this, you know? If we were, the haul could¡¯ve been fatter¡ªlike picking two of the five.¡± ¡°How¡¯d you figure that?¡± Mallow¡¯s eyes popped wide. ¡°Wait, did you¡­?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Kevin said, shrugging it off. ¡°I¡¯ve pulled this kinda hustle before.¡± Mallow locked up, then spazzed out, ¡°Dude, you¡¯re a freaking genius! Why didn¡¯t I tag with you sooner? I¡¯m kicking myself here!¡± He started yanking at his thin hair. Kevin didn¡¯t give a shit. The trick was clear as fuck¡ªSome Worldhoppers had pulled the same stunt before. That nursing home gig was just too brutal, so nobody dared touch it. Luck¡¯s the real kicker, and you can¡¯t bank on that. Good thing Marissa, Razor Hawk, and Sally didn¡¯t clock it, so Kevin and Mallow wrapped it up smooth. Kevin rubbed his chin, sizing up the five picks slow and steady. Basic stat boosts were rare as hell, like spotting a four-leaf clover, and Mallow said Sally¡¯s crew never got lucky enough to nab one. Them 100 team points? Straight cash. That Hyper Serum? A lifeline. But the dark green gear? Total wild card. The right piece could juice his game hard¡ªor flip his whole fighting style. In the end, Kevin sucked it up and rolled with option B, taking the gamble. Last time he soloed that brutal hidden mission, no hidden stat bonus ever popped up. Since it¡¯s hidden, triggering it¡¯s a pain in the ass, making this pick damn scarce. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Omnispace laid it out¡ª6 hidden attributes: Willpower: Mental grit. When sluggishness, paralysis, or stone crap hits, this stat tweaks the odds. Boost it, and you¡¯re shrugging off status junk like it¡¯s nothing. Reflex: Dodge like you¡¯re in a flick. Arrows, bullets¡ªbring it! This cranks your duck-and-weave odds. Matrix vibes, anybody? Perception: Danger radar¡¯s live. It sharpens your senses, so illusions and head games slide right off. Jedi tricks? Not on this watch. Toughness: When you eat a hit¡ªsword, fireball, or some poison chomp¡ªthis stat messes with the damage. Plus or minus, it¡¯s all numbers. Luck: No explaining needed. Affinity: Magic hour. This stat juices your spell-slinging¡ªfaster casts, harder smacks, bigger bangs. Abracadabra, man! The other picks had fallbacks, but hidden stat boosts? Rarer than a unicorn¡¯s ass. So Kevin rolled the dice on option B. All five looked solid, unless he got screwed and landed Affinity. And guess what? His Luck stat jumped +2. Sure, it wasn¡¯t the hidden juice he¡¯d been gunning for, like Willpower or Toughness, but who¡¯s gonna bitch about getting luckier? Still a sweet deal. Mallow didn¡¯t blink and nabbed the Hyper Serum. When Kevin asked why, Mallow stared like he¡¯d grown horns, ¡°Dude, what¡¯s bigger than not dying in this shithole?¡± Kevin didn¡¯t have words, but Mallow¡¯s pick was dead-on. If Mallow hadn¡¯t gone all-in for that Energy Toast to pull Kevin¡¯s ass out of the fire, he¡¯d be toast himself by now. Kevin had already grilled Mallow on it. When he soloed that brutal hidden mission, Mallow didn¡¯t get squat from Omnispace¡ªno ping, nada. Omnispace dropped the goods and kept it hush-hush, no big broadcast to stir up trouble. They hashed it out and agreed to keep their haul on the down-low. Mallow also dropped a nugget he¡¯d picked up about the reward¡¯s Plot Deviation Rate. Word was, he¡¯s now got a 1% bump. Kevin wasn¡¯t 100% on what that Plot Deviation Rate jazz was, but extra juice never hurt, right? With the power humming, they could finally crank the loudspeaker, but they still needed to hit a switch in the control room to get it rolling. No sweat for Kevin and Mallow. The control room was right next door to the generator room, so they rolled over, smoked two tuner walkers on the way, and took the joint over. ¡°Alright, boss,¡± Mallow said, his voice shaking a bit, ¡°how the hell we gonna play this joint to our edge? All them walkers are rolling in soon, and I ain¡¯t feeling hot about our shot.¡± Kevin flashed a badass smirk. ¡°Chill, man,¡± he said, he said, killing Mallow¡¯s panic. ¡°I¡¯ve got a move. You remember that diesel fuel we nabbed in the generator room? Time to light it up.¡± *** Meanwhile, Marissa hauled her crew toward the generator room. A big dude ran point while she blasted walkers with her auto, stacking bodies. Deep down, she was kinda juiced about the whole damn mess. ¡°Why didn¡¯t I clock using the generator to pull walkers sooner? Even without that loudspeaker, Rikk spilled the whole prison layout, and the control room¡¯s right by the generator room. Gotta be a broadcast rig there. I could drag in the walkers and stack points for myself, no sweat,¡± Marissa thought, smirking hard. ¡°Who gives a crap about that dumb loudspeaker outside? Long as I¡¯m on top, who cares if a few suckers get chewed up? Less competition, more me, right?¡± Just as she was patting herself on the back, a loud-ass alarm ripped through the air. Her crew swapped dumb looks, but Marissa¡¯s gut twisted¡ªher nails clawing into her skin, blood trickling. ¡°Who? Who the hell flipped that switch?!¡± she snarled, face twisted up in a rage. ¡°Move your ass!¡± she screeched, rifle blazing, dropping walkers like pins at a alley. On the flip side of the prison, Razor Hawk was tearing through a kill streak when the alarm hit. Some might¡¯ve blinked, but he just laughed it off, figuring it was some walker tripping the switch like a dumbass. He kept slashing away. Kevin flipped the alarm for a quick blast, just long enough to see walkers stumbling their way, hunger kicking their asses into gear. The control room and generator room were the prison¡¯s core, built tough as nails. With one choke point¡ªa corridor funneling straight to ¡®em¡ªKevin and Mallow took the high ground and dumped diesel fuel all over the path. As the walkers closed in, Mallow sparked the fuel. They watched those suckers charge right into the fire. Walkers usually dodged flames like the plague, but with the alarm screaming, would they still rush? Hell yeah¡ªthe noise flipped their switches. They locked eyes on the humans, let out some gnarly growls, and went full-on bloodthirsty, barreling ahead. Mallow whooped, ¡°Son of a bitch, come to papa!¡± Then muttered, ¡°Wait, did I just roast myself?¡± The walkers plowed through the blaze, turning into flaming freaks¡ªcreepy as shit but badass to watch. Halfway in, they groaned, dropped, and burned to ash. ¡°Whoa, only 1 survival point per walker?¡± Mallow bitched under his breath. ¡°Hey, 1 point ain¡¯t trash,¡± Kevin laughed. ¡°We¡¯re playing smart, not blasting, so Omnispace cuts the haul. Team points from kills are the real deal. Plus, diesel¡¯s free, man.¡± Mallow cracked a grin. ¡°Fair call, boss.¡± No shame in sight, they slammed the alarm again, reeling in another walker swarm. Battle time! Chapter 13: Intense Battle Drawn by the screaming alarm, walker waves crashed toward the control room. Marissa tracked the noise, hauling her crew that way. Half her squad kept peeling off, popping walkers that got too close. Marissa pissed fire and cussed, but her hold was crumbling. Team points from kills were pulling harder than her bark. Plus, her old stunts had newbies leery¡ªthey were over her hot air and wanted cold cash. Marissa toyed with going lone wolf, but facing walkers and dark solo? Nah, not her jam. She stuck with the pack. *** ¡­ Mallow couldn¡¯t quit cackling¡ªwalkers were damn near queuing up to fry. The corridor ran over 90 feet, and after 60 feet of hellfire, they crumbled to ash. When the flames dipped, Mallow whooped and splashed more diesel down the corridor, lighting ¡®em back up. ¡°Come on, you bastards! Daddy¡¯s got a fire bath for ya!¡± Mallow bounced around, wild as shit, arms flailing. Seeing the walker kill count shoot through the roof, he was riding a high¡ªthe world looked a little less crappy, a bit more fun. Kevin stayed cool, wiping down his sidearm, greasing it good. Nothing fancy, no crazy stats, but it still needed love. Like Melk always growled, ¡°Keep the weapon clean, you¡¯ll score the green. Slack off once, doom¡¯s got your ass in a dance.¡± ¡°We¡¯re rolling into another scrap soon,¡± Kevin said, voice low and steady. ¡°And we¡¯re running dry on diesel.¡± Mallow eyed the two leftover fuel buckets. ¡°Hey, boss, I¡¯ve been counting. We¡¯ve smoked over 400 walkers already. If we play it tight, these two¡¯ll get us another hundred or so. Zone D¡¯s gotta be running thin, right?¡± ¡°Omnispace ain¡¯t no softie. It won¡¯t hand us a death sentence, but it ain¡¯t laying out a welcome mat either. We¡¯ve carved out a fat edge torching these walkers, but don¡¯t think Omnispace is gonna kiss our asses. We wanna stay ahead, we gotta roll the dice.¡± Kevin slammed a fresh mag into his gun and snatched his knife. Mallow¡¯s mug went hard. ¡°Alright, boss. What¡¯s the move?¡± ¡°Hold off on that fuel. This corridor¡¯s built to choke ¡®em¡ªonly two walkers can squeeze in at once. I¡¯ll take point; you watch my back. If it gets dicey, we¡¯ll soak those creeps in oil and spark ¡®em up. Then we slug it out till we¡¯re done.¡± Kevin¡¯s grit locked in, Melk¡¯s words ringing in his head. The fire dimmed, showing walkers still sizzling, clawing ahead with crispy hands. Kevin held his spot, first shot popping the lead walker¡¯s head clean off. He lunged in, knife slashing hard, lopping the next one¡¯s skull with a nasty swing. The rest kept coming, burning hulks that wouldn¡¯t quit¡ªgrim as hell. Kevin hacked away, fighting like a trapped dog. No slick moves, just raw guts, Melk¡¯s lessons pumping through him. He worked the corridor, dodging chomps, hitting when the walkers froze up after a lunge. His blade rammed into their heads. He pulled back to 20 feet from Mallow, slicing forward and back. Ten walkers down, but he ate two claw swipes. Luck held¡ªno big cuts¡ªbut his health dropped 30-plus points. He waved Mallow in. Mallow hustled, splashing diesel down the corridor and torching it up. Kevin fell back, sucking air and wrapping his cuts. The bandages were basic as hell¡ªno Omnispace quick-fix bullshit¡ªbut they plugged the bleeding good enough. A pack of walkers shambled into the blaze, groaning like hell as they fried, dropping into crispy piles along the corridor. Kevin snagged a quick break, health crawling back to 60 points. Teeth clenched, he tipped Mallow a nod and rushed in as the flames fizzled out. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Close-up scrapping¡¯s a bitch, but you don¡¯t get tough without swinging. Bigger uglies down the road¡¯ll be a real pain in the ass. Plus, walkers were mutating again tonight. Kevin didn¡¯t know the how, but they¡¯d turn nastier. They were already a bitch to handle. He had to cash in now, or it¡¯d be a shitshow later. Kevin¡¯s brutal stab hit home, jamming his blade through the walker¡¯s jaw and into its brain. Before he could rip it free, the crazy bastard clawed back, raking his shoulder for 12 damage. Kevin¡¯s Strength was at 7 now, nearly matching the walker¡¯s, and his Stamina was up to 8 points¡ª80 HP. With tighter defenses, he could eat a few hits. Still, one swipe from a dying walker clocked 12 HP. For a newbie with 4 Stamina, that¡¯d be a gut punch¡ªserious trouble. No shock beginners ducked close fights and hugged guns. One slip, and you¡¯re toast. Once you¡¯re dead, ain¡¯t no rewind. Kevin¡¯s ticker skipped when an Omnispace ping hit: ¡°Worldhopper 4444, you¡¯ve taken 252 damage, over 300% of your HP. Your relentless combat and bold moves earned you Physical Defense Mastery, level 1. It enhances your skill with non-shield gear, raises defense, and cuts physical damage by 5%. Keep testing new fight tactics to build your edge.¡± Kevin sucked wind, health down to 30 points, teetering on the edge of screwed. He swung his knife, carving through a walker¡¯s neck, then booted it aside. Pulling his pistol, he snapped off headshots, walkers closing in at 10 feet. Even with his so-so aim, he nailed ¡®em clean. Two more dropped, but a dying cop walker chomped his left hand. Prison guard gloves took the brunt, but it still drew blood, health crashing to 20 HP¡ªdamn near critical. He waved Mallow it was clear to roll. Mallow dumped the last diesel bucket and lit it up. Kevin staggered back, gasping. Mallow hustled over, ¡°You good, boss? Why you tangling up close with those bastards? We can¡¯t take ¡®em, we can still haul ass outta here.¡± Kevin, chest still pumping from the scrap, rasped, ¡°Pretty sure we¡¯re boxed in. This is the only way out. They can¡¯t bust through, and we ain¡¯t slipping past.¡± ¡°So, we¡¯re stuck like rats?¡± Mallow¡¯s voice cracked with nerves. ¡°Hey, chill for a sec. I¡¯ll take point next round!¡± Kevin nodded, shut his eyes, and crashed for a breather. His health inched back up. Mallow scoped the flames as they flickered out, two minutes draining their kick. The fire had smoked another 60 or so walkers¡ªif you could even call them dead at this point. Walkers rushed again, no diesel left to torch ¡®em. Mallow planted a boot in the lead walker¡¯s chest, sending it sprawling back into the pack. The stumble slowed ¡®em down, and he splashed the last diesel drips from the bucket, sparking a quick blaze that held the bastards off for a hot second. Kevin flicked Mallow a thumbs-up. The kid was quick on his feet, turning scraps into wins in this tight-ass corner. Not half bad. Mallow bellowed a war yell to pump himself up and barreled down, shovel swinging. He¡¯d clocked Kevin¡¯s moves before, so he knew the drill. He smashed the shovel into the walkers¡¯ soft necks and heads, turning skulls to mush from high ground. Brains and blood sprayed everywhere. The other walkers didn¡¯t give a damn. They kept clawing and grunting, scrambling over the mess. Mallow unleashed a string of cusses, voice thick with panic and piss-off. Then his foot snagged a tossed diesel bucket, and he ate dirt hard. His shovel flew, clocking his leg with a nasty thud¡ªpain hit so sharp it stung his eyes with tears. Kevin let out a groan, gut dropping as shit hit the fan. He yanked his pistol and popped off a quick burst, dropping a few walkers ready to jump Mallow and pulling his ass out of the fire. Mallow, still rattled, clawed back up and gripped his shovel tight. Kevin scoped his health bar and chilled the fuck out when it hit 45 points, yanking him out of the red. He knew they were toast if Mallow didn¡¯t get backup soon. Kevin stashed his pistol and barreled down the slope, ready to tangle with the walker swarm. Mallow¡¯s vibe jumped when he clocked Kevin rolling in. The two pals linked up again¡ªKevin scrapping up close, Mallow swinging his long shovel to bash walker heads from a safe spot. The tight choke held ¡®em sweet, capping it at two walkers a pop. They fought like mad dogs, clearing out 30-plus of the bastards. ¡°Hey, boss, fuel¡¯s smoked out. Another wave¡¯s gonna hit soon. What¡¯s the play?¡± Mallow, covered by Kevin, only took one scratch and had juice left, but he was beat to shit. Kevin, cool as ice, shot back, ¡°Chill, man. We¡¯ve been scrapping for ages. The crew¡¯s gotta roll in soon. They¡¯ll spot the walkers and blast ¡®em for sure. They don¡¯t know we¡¯re holed up here, so they ain¡¯t turning those creeps on us. Even if some asshole tries, the rest won¡¯t pass up team points. Shit hits the fan, we fall back to the control room and dig in. That spot¡¯s the prison¡¯s heart¡ªdoor¡¯s a tank, walkers won¡¯t bust it anytime soon.¡± Kevin had it all mapped out. Chapter 14: Held Up Ten minutes later, they were bunkered in the control room. Kevin smashed the two steel doors¡ªinch-thick fuckers¡ªbut the glass windows on ¡®em shattered like cheap shit. Mallow shoved his shovel through the busted window, cracking walker skulls one by one. Kevin rammed a metal pipe into the closest walker¡¯s eye, twisting till the bastard dropped. They were dropping walkers left and right, but the grind was wearing ¡®em down. The walkers, though, were freak-ass strong. They hammered the doors so hard the inch-thick steel started buckling. ¡°Mallow, this might be on me. This gig¡¯s a hell of a lot tougher than I figured. Way more walkers than I clocked. Looks like Omnispace rigged it for a full squad, banking on everyone pulling weight.¡± ¡°Boss, you catch how many walkers we¡¯ve smoked in the last 2 hours? Over 500! I only had 40 in the bag before. Omnispace slapped me with a title: Walker Hunter! You probably nabbed that shit ages ago, right? Trailing you¡¯s dicey, but the payoff¡¯s fat and worth the roll. We ain¡¯t tapped out yet¡ªI¡¯ve still got a full health potion.¡± Mallow was pumped. ¡°Man, that title levels up after 500 kills. Keep smashing ¡®em; the tougher you get, the less you¡¯ll bleed.¡± ¡°Sweet!¡± Mallow felt a rush kick in. Before hooking up with Kevin, he was always eating dirt and bolting. Now, shit was still hairy, but he was stacking wins, and there was light ahead. Die? Whatever¡ªat least he wouldn¡¯t go out a total nobody. Kevin, meanwhile, snagged a ping from Omnispace: ¡°Worldhopper 4444, you have eliminated over 1,000 walkers. You are granted the gold-tier title Walker Slayer. It increases damage against walkers by 20%. The next level is the platinum-tier Walker Reaper; you are at 1,344 of 2,000 required kills. Continue eliminating walkers to advance.¡± Kevin had been rocking the silver-tier Walker Killer, juicing him 10% more damage against walkers. That¡¯s why he was dropping ¡®em like flies. Now he¡¯d scored his first gold-tier title. It wasn¡¯t top-shelf, and it only popped in zombie joints, but a gold-tier¡¯s a gold-tier¡ªshiny as hell. That 20% boost was gonna stack up sweet over time. If Melk hadn¡¯t shoved him into risky dives and dark holes, and if he didn¡¯t know the plot inside out to game it, Kevin never would¡¯ve snagged a gold-tier title in the newbie trial. Right as they were about to break, gunshots cracked outside. ¡°Over here! Horde of walkers!¡± ¡°Let¡¯s roll! Tons of points to stack!¡± ¡°Waste ¡®em all!¡± It was Razor Hawk and his crew. Mallow, beat to shit, could barely lift his arms and near cheered when they showed. ¡°Phew, that was tight! Hey, boss, Omnispace just pinged me. My Strength bumped 1 point from all this grinding¡ªup to 5 now.¡± Kevin mused, Omnispace always pays out for Worldhoppers who bust their ass. He¡¯d scored plenty of handy skills himself, like basic moves. But a straight stat boost mid-fight? That was new. Kevin figured you could grind basic stats with long-haul scrapping, but there¡¯s a cap. You slam into a wall, like the 5 points of Strength, Agility, and Stamina Omnispace pegs for regular joes. Past that, climbing¡¯s a bitch. Kevin had been tangling up close this whole damn time, but his Strength didn¡¯t twitch. Maybe ¡®cause he snagged a 3-point boost from that hidden mission, kicking it to 6¡ªabove the norm. The higher you climb, the harder it sticks. Kevin felt kinda shitty, but back then, he didn¡¯t have a choice. If he hadn¡¯t been tough enough, those walkers would¡¯ve ripped him to shreds right there. He wouldn¡¯t have lasted the night. After a bit, the racket outside died down, so those walkers were probably toast. ¡°That was nuts! We smoked a shit-ton of walkers, Razor Hawk. We¡¯re topping the charts, right?¡± a young punk piped up. Razor Hawk stuck his chest out. ¡°No shit, kid! You¡¯d be half-dead without your big bro here¡ªsmart as hell and strong as fuck, that¡¯s me! Top spot¡¯s mine, hands down!¡± A wave of ass-kissing hit, and Mallow near gagged. Kevin just smirked. ¡°Alright, big bro, what¡¯s the next play?¡± the punk asked. Razor Hawk grinned like a jackass. ¡°Heard an alarm screaming in there. Gotta be a control room or some shit. Let¡¯s scope it for loot. Bigfoot, you¡¯re kicking the door!¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Kevin and Mallow swapped a quick look and jumped the gun. ¡°Razor Hawk, big bro, hold up¡ªit¡¯s us!¡± they hollered together. Razor Hawk¡¯s jaw hit the floor. ¡°What the hell you two doing in there?¡± he barked. Kevin sighed, looking beat to hell. ¡°Short version: we rolled in to smoke some walkers, but this joint¡¯s dark as shit, and they kept jumping out like fucking ghosts. We got our asses kicked and kept falling back ¡®til we hit this spot. Tried blocking the door with every damn thing we had, but those bastards still busted through. Then we bunkered in the control room, and this dumbass Mallow tripped the alarm, pulling in more of the fuckers.¡± He shot Mallow a death stare, and Mallow dropped his head, looking like a kicked pup. ¡°We were fucked six ways to Sunday, so we holed up, praying for a bailout. Then, boom¡ªhere comes the big bro cavalry! You¡¯re a goddamn lifesaver!¡± Kevin, all shook up, lunged for Razor Hawk¡¯s hand. Razor Hawk yanked back from the sweaty grip, pissed. ¡°Drop the whiny horseshit! Don¡¯t screw me over! What¡¯d you two snag in there? Cough it up, or you¡¯re stuck here eating shit!¡± Razor Hawk¡¯s grin twisted into a shitty smirk as his crew piled on, guns locked on Kevin and Mallow. Kevin and Mallow swapped a quick look. Mallow stuttered, ¡°Boss, big bro¡¯s solid as hell. He bailed us out big time. Maybe¡­we just cough up the survival points we scored.¡± Razor Hawk sneered, ¡°Damn straight, fork over every fucking point you¡¯ve got. Try pulling any slick shit on me, and you¡¯ll be hurting so bad you¡¯ll wish you were dead, assholes!¡± Kevin¡¯s gut dropped as it hit him¡ªRazor Hawk wasn¡¯t fucking around. The bastard had a trick up his sleeve. Kevin scoped the room, and every punk was sporting a smug-ass grin, eyes glued to Razor Hawk¡¯s chest. It was a pair of sunglasses, flashing faint. Kevin clocked it¡ªa newbie who rolled with Razor Hawk ate it outside, and he¡¯d bet his ass those shades were on that kid. Gear! Kevin¡¯s ticker started hammering like a son of a bitch. Kevin had done damn good in this scrap. Before they hit the walkers, he¡¯d peeked his survival points¡ª4,136. After the shit-show with fires and kills, he¡¯d stacked another 900 or so, pushing him to about 5,000. Just now, he¡¯d swapped 2,000 to Mallow for Feather Boots, leaving him at 3,000. Mallow was sitting on 3,000 too. Together, they were hauling 6,000 survival points¡ªfat fucking cash. But here¡¯s the rub: they couldn¡¯t let that shit leak, or they¡¯d be in deep-ass trouble. If Razor Hawk sniffed it out, no way that bastard¡¯d let ¡®em walk with that haul. With no heavy hitters backing ¡®em, that many points painted a big-ass target. Less, and they¡¯d just get jumped. This much? Razor Hawk¡¯d fucking kill ¡®em for the whole stash. Razor Hawk was grinning like a smug prick. ¡°Snagged this gear off that dead-ass loser. Shows me your survival points, so don¡¯t even try pulling any bullshit on me, fuckers!¡± Kevin¡¯s brain clicked. ¡°Big bro, you¡¯re fucking unreal! Top dog, hands down!¡± ¡°Quit the bullshit! Fork over your damn points!¡± ¡°Hey, big bro, gimme a sec before we hand ¡®em over¡ªcool if I check out those shades? Never seen anything like ¡®em.¡± ¡°What¡¯s your fucking angle?¡± Razor Hawk squinted hard. ¡°Look, you¡¯re the big swinging dick here, and we¡¯re just two chumps. No way we¡¯re dumb enough to scrap back, and jacking you¡¯d be a shit move. How about you let us eyeball those glasses?¡± Razor Hawk paused, then smirked like a prick and chucked the sunglasses over. ¡°Fine, peek at ¡®em. Maybe it¡¯ll shut your asses up about stashing points and save me the hassle of smashing your fucking heads in. Plus, this crew could use more meat. Check this badass gear, you sorry fucks!¡± Kevin and Mallow huddled up, scoping the glasses, eyes popping like they¡¯d hit the jackpot. These shades were cool as shit. Ray-Block Glasses: Slogan: Play it cool, break the rule. Item Type: Worldhopper¡¯s built-in gear, jacked by a thief with real-world game tech, hauled into Omnispace and tagged. Effect: See-through, level 1. Instruction: Pit the caster¡¯s Willpower against the target¡¯s Willpower Check. Flunk it, and the target clocks you. Nail it, and you scope the Worldhopper¡¯s stats and survival points. On plot characters, you get a peek at some gear and stats. Fuck up, and they turn hostile as hell¡ªfavorability drops 50 points. If it dips below 30, they¡¯re swinging. Note: Shitty unauthorized mod job¡ªtech¡¯s rough as fuck. Burns 50 energy points per pop, one shot every 24 hours. Special gear dragged into Omnispace, upgradable once at HQ. Kevin scoped the shades, flashed a grin, and tossed ¡®em back to Razor Hawk. ¡°Big bro, you¡¯re the fucking king! Snagged some killer gear!¡± Kevin felt the heat ease off. He slid 2,800 survival points to Mallow first, then flicked the scraps¡ª314 points¡ªto Razor Hawk. That¡¯s all a newbie like him, always bolting from shit, could ever stack¡ªor so it looked. Razor Hawk fired up his Ray-Block Glasses and gave him the once-over. Since Kevin was Mallow¡¯s boss, Razor Hawk reckoned the fat loot was all in Kevin¡¯s stash. He didn¡¯t sweat Kevin dumping points to Mallow¡ªfigured if Mallow grabbed too much, he¡¯d just ditch the bastard and bounce. ¡°Mallow¡¯s my right-hand dog, and I run this shit,¡± Kevin said with a laugh. Razor Hawk clocked Kevin¡¯s empty pockets and pumped his fist under the table like a smug asshole. Truth is, Razor Hawk was a slimy fuck. Even in this dog-eat-dog hellhole, he couldn¡¯t resist jacking anyone he ran into. Robbing shit gave him a sick-ass buzz. Then Mallow, bowing and scraping like a champ, coughed up 50 survival points. Kevin flipped his shit. ¡°You little punk, hiding points from me?¡± He cracked Mallow upside the head. Mallow, steaming, fired back, ¡°What kinda boss are you, you greedy bastard? You stripped me clean! How the hell am I supposed to live? Fuck this¡ªI¡¯m out. Done with your sorry ass!¡± In a flash, the yelling turned to fists¡ªfull-on brawling, swinging like mad dogs. Chapter 15: Big Payoff Razor Hawk and his crew ate up Kevin and Mallow¡¯s scrap with shitty-ass grins, laughing like it was a damn sitcom. Razor Hawk tried his Ray-Block Glasses on Mallow again, but he hit two fat snags. First, he was tapped out on energy points¡ªglasses were dead as shit. Second, he couldn¡¯t fire ¡®em up for another 24 hours. He pegged Mallow as a broke-ass from day one, and with a cheap prick like Kevin running him, it was a double whammy. Bottom line, Razor Hawk was a slick fuck¡ªanother day, another hustle for a pro thief. Seeing these two clowns down in the dirt, he figured they had jack squat left and let his guard drop. Razor Hawk, itching to stack team points off walker kills, was done screwing around here. He flicked his hand and barked, ¡°Alright, listen up, fuckers! Don¡¯t forget big bro Razor Hawk dragged your sorry asses outta hell, got it? You sniff out any loot, you damn well better cough it up. Now fuck off!¡± The second Razor Hawk and his crew spun around, they locked eyes with Marissa and her squad, guns trained right on ¡®em. Razor Hawk¡¯s boys yanked their own pieces, ready to throw down. The air was thick as shit with tension. Marissa glared at Razor Hawk, face hard as nails. ¡°You pull this shit?¡± she snapped. Razor Hawk whistled like a cocky bastard. ¡°Hell yeah, it¡¯s your big bro Razor Hawk!¡± Marissa meant the whole mess¡ªalarm, walkers, the works. But Razor Hawk, thinking she just meant the walker-smoking part, took the credit like he¡¯d wiped ¡®em all out solo. He¡¯d blasted a pile of ¡®em, so why the fuck not? ¡°Who the hell let you call this shot?¡± Marissa¡¯s voice cut like a blade. ¡°Do you even grasp how bad this could¡¯ve screwed the team?¡± Razor Hawk fired back, ¡°Screw you, you high-and-mighty bitch! Why the fuck you poking in my shit? All you do is bat your eyes at Rikk. Since when do you run me?¡± Marissa flicked her eyes at Kevin and Mallow. She¡¯d always pegged Razor Hawk as a loud, dumb brawler¡ªno way he cooked up a plan this slick. The quiet one, the stay-at-home type, seemed more like the brains. Maybe they¡¯d teamed up¡ªhomeboy scheming, Razor Hawk swinging. Razor Hawk, figuring Marissa was shielding Kevin and Mallow, sneered, ¡°Marissa, get outta my damn face. I already cleaned these two out. So what? Stay in your lane, lady!¡± Kevin and Mallow looked like hell, faces banged up and puffy. They seemed cleaned out, down to nothing. Their rough shape was impossible to miss. Marissa blinked, thrown off. Turns out these two got jacked dry by Razor Hawk¡ªthey weren¡¯t behind this mess and might even be worth teaming up with. So Marissa, playing the ¡°team leader¡± card, laid into Razor Hawk for his dirty moves. Razor Hawk wasn¡¯t taking that shit. He shoved Marissa and her crew aside and peeled out with his gang, pissed as hell. Marissa felt a pang for Kevin and Mallow when she heard how bad they¡¯d been hit. She sighed, shaking her head, and tossed ¡®em an offer to join her squad. Kevin brushed it off nice and easy, saying he needed time to mull it over. Marissa gave a nod, told ¡®em to take as long as they wanted¡ªher team¡¯s door was always open. She waved ¡®em off and started digging through the control room and generator room, hunting for anything worth a damn. As they rolled outta Zone D, Kevin got a ping from Omnispace: ¡°Worldhopper 4444, you have completed the main storyline mission¡ªClear Zone D. You¡¯ve taken out 355 walkers, 42% of the total in Zone D, earning 42 team points. Your temporary team handled over 70% of the load, boosting the reward by 70%. Newcomer trial and difficulty bonuses add 100%, making your total bonus 170%. You¡¯ve scored 114 team points, bringing your total to 139.¡± ¡°Mallow, you get the word?¡± ¡°Boss, I got it too! I smoked 251 walkers¡ª30% of ¡®em. Omnispace split the burned ones down the middle since we teamed up on ¡®em. The ones we dropped solo, they tallied separate, so our counts ain¡¯t the same. Add the team bump and newbie juice, and I stacked 81 team points!¡± Mallow was buzzing like a kid with a new toy¡ªhe¡¯d never bagged team points before. But the haul wasn¡¯t done yet¡ªanother ping dropped from Omnispace: ¡°Worldhopper 4444, since this is a main storyline mission, you are granted a special reward. Calculating¡­ Reward: 5 skill points (2 base, 170% bonus), 5 attribute points (2 base), 2,700 survival points (1,000 base).¡± Mallow grinned wide, riding Kevin¡¯s wave. ¡°Boss, check this stack! We¡¯re rolling in it! But why two payoffs?¡± Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Kevin shrugged. ¡°I¡¯d put money the first¡¯s the team cut, and this one¡¯s straight from Omnispace.¡± ¡°Boss, Marissa acts like she¡¯s got it all figured, Razor Hawk¡¯s a damn shark, and Sally, Jungwoo, plus Morimaru¡ªthey ain¡¯t slackers. They¡¯re all out there risking their necks. How come we¡¯re the only ones cashing in big?¡± Kevin stopped cold, chewing it over. ¡°Boils down to two things: sticking to the main gig and rolling the dice smart. We hugged the storyline and stared down some heavy shit. Yeah, we¡¯re green with jack for power, so Omnispace tossed us a fat stack. But these shots? They don¡¯t pop up every day. Omnispace dragging us in is like drafting raw meat. The newbie trial¡¯s about guts and what we¡¯ve got in us¡ªnot just chucking us to the dogs. You¡¯ve got the stones to face the dark, you cash in big. Play it safe, dodge the heat, and we¡¯re screwed either way. Only way to keep breathing is to spit in death¡¯s face and snatch every shot to bulk up.¡± Right on cue, Omnispace blared again: ¡°Attention, all Worldhoppers. The walkers are set to mutate a second time at midnight tonight. Strength, speed, and stamina jump another 10%, with smell, hearing, and sight sharpening up. Storyline difficulty climbs from C to C+. Reward bonus climbs too. Gear up, everybody.¡± Mallow glanced at his watch¡ª6:00 p.m., six hours ¡®til the mutation kicked in. Kevin and Mallow bailed from the prison, swapping a few words on the way out. The storyline crew was already parked, waiting. Razor Hawk and his gang rolled back in, looking sour as hell. Probably ticked about the mission haul. Marissa and her squad showed next, faces darker than a storm. Razor Hawk and Marissa traded icy stares, hate dripping off ¡®em like oil. Both figured the other side scored the fat stack. Kevin couldn¡¯t ditch the gut punch that this crew was fucked. The Governor¡ªthat evil bastard¡ªwas gearing up to hit soon, and these clowns were too busy scrapping each other to clock it. Rikk, blind as a bat to the mess, piped up, ¡°Man, I¡¯m hyped to see you guys crush it today! You showed some real chops and proved your grit. Big thanks for that!¡± The newbies swapped looks, eyes dripping with envy, jealousy, and a whole lotta salt as they clapped half-assed. Glenor, T-Bone, Aundra, and even Sharn piled on the praise, hyping the newbies for their grit. While the newbies tackled Zone D, the main crew had swept Zone B and the plaza out front. Now, the whole front half of the prison was theirs. Morimaru stepped up and slid Rikk a key plot piece: The Prison Key, nabbed from the warden¡¯s office in Zone A. Morimaru said he¡¯d rolled solo into Zone A¡ªcrawling with guard walkers, the nastiest spot¡ªand yanked that key right outta the warden¡¯s grip. No question, coughing up this game-changer was gonna cash in big. Sure enough, the main crew ate it up¡ªeven the hard-ass swordswoman tipped a quiet nod. Rikk kept smacking the kid¡¯s shoulder. Kevin couldn¡¯t hold back a grin, soaking in the sour vibes and petty glares Marissa and Razor Hawk shot as Morimaru stole the damn show. Turns out, some newbies were straight-up studs, like Morimaru. Zone A was likely packed with walkers¡ªclose to 1,000, same as Zone D. Took real chops, guts, and a sharp head to cut through to the warden¡¯s office, drop that bastard, and snag the key. No way your average greenhorn pulls that off. But it wasn¡¯t all high-fives and grins. Razor Hawk¡¯s crew lost Clifford¡ªa scrappy punk who¡¯d bite before he¡¯d bend. Sally¡¯s squad was mourning Moerci, a tough-as-nails Latino who¡¯d always pitch in fast. Newbie count kept tanking, but every cull left the leftovers harder. Kevin didn¡¯t give a damn who was eating dirt anymore. Next gig, big score¡ªthat¡¯s it. He could end up rotting in some hole someday¡ªwho gives a shit? Cashing in now and bulking up were all that counted. The rest was pure bullshit. ¡°Alright, everybody, listen up,¡± Rikk barked, his voice slicing the air. ¡°We¡¯ve got this slick key, so half the prison¡¯s ours to claim. Not the whole deal, but enough to keep us breathing. I want every last one of you hauling ass inside. Let¡¯s kick this thing off!¡± The whole crew¡ªover 100 deep¡ªsprang into gear, way livelier than the small posse in the old tale. Rikk, Sharn, and the gang used the Prison Key to lock down the cleared zones, carving out their safe spot. Took two hours to settle in¡ªbig crowd, plus some dawdlers dragging their feet. They rounded everyone up again to dish out the night¡¯s gig. Omnispace issued a notification: ¡°You have successfully completed the task, earning the trust of key characters. They no longer consider you ineffective. Tonight¡¯s mission: Defend the Prison¡ªyour final stronghold. All walkers will undergo a second mutation at midnight.¡± This time, Marissa, Razor Hawk, Sally, and Morimaru all scrapped over who¡¯d call the shots for the night¡¯s defense¡ªturned into a full-on shouting match fast. The crew split hard: Rikk rolled with Marissa, Sharn had Razor Hawk¡¯s back, Lorrah and Cahl stuck with Sally, while Sword Lady and the doc¡¯s family rallied behind Morimaru. Kevin was eating up the chaos when Melk stomped over, face grim as hell. He sized Kevin up. ¡°Dumbass, you¡¯ve toughened up. Starting to look like you¡¯ve got some grit now.¡± Kevin grinned. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± ¡°Well,¡± Melk growled low, ¡°I¡¯ve got news. We ain¡¯t solo in this damn prison. Caught some noises from the other side of the walls¡ªcould be survivors, could be a mess. And Deyl spotted tracks outside on patrol¡ªnot theirs, ours.¡± Kevin arched a brow. ¡°Human tracks?¡± ¡°Damn straight,¡± Deyl said, strolling up with his crossbow slung. ¡°Clear as daylight. Spread wide¡ªnot that clumsy walker stagger. Human, no question.¡± ¡° ¡° Chapter 16: Midnight Smash The night was ice-cold, and a sharp fall wind sliced through their gear, rattling their bones with every blast. Kevin pulled guard duty, posted up in the watchtower. His eyes raked the black void ahead. Thanks to the generator¡ªand Rikk¡¯s freaky knack for sniffing out loot¡ªthey¡¯d scored some diesel, and the prison was juiced up again. By tomorrow, once they swept the rest of the joint and cranked the Zone A generator, their setup would be tight as hell. Sparks popped off the power lines every so often, blue flickers screaming old-world vibes¡ªand the walker threat still breathing down their necks. The four watchtowers had spotlights so beefy they turned the yard into daylight. You could even clock the walkers¡¯ busted teeth as they dragged across the grass. Kevin eyed the dark mountains hulking out there, a bad feeling chewing at his gut. Was it a walker swarm, uglier than anything the story had cooked up? The Governor¡ªthat cold-blooded bastard¡ªteaming with a Worldhopper and cracking their game? Or just their own crew imploding from the inside? Kevin couldn¡¯t nail it down. Run? Hell no, Kevin thought. Ditching the crew and the prison meant tangling solo with those juiced-up walker freaks¡ªtorn to shreds and chowed down before the sun¡¯s up. Mallow leaned in, voice low. ¡°Boss, four more days and we¡¯re outta this dump.¡± Kevin shot him a hard stare. ¡°Mallow, cut that crap. Thinking like that¡¯ll turn these days into pure hell. Shit always hits harder before it clears.¡± Mallow bobbed his head. ¡°Gotcha, boss. You reckon something wild¡¯s popping off tonight?¡± His nerves kicked in. ¡°Man, I¡¯m praying it ain¡¯t a damn shitshow, alright?¡± Walker raids were the nightly grind¡ªreal sleep was a ghost. Daytime kills were just warm-ups for the night shift. Round and round it went¡ªperfect in its messed-up way. ¡°Who knows if tonight¡¯s gonna blow sky-high,¡± Kevin muttered. ¡°But Omnispace flagged us twice.¡± Used to be a slug on the couch, now he could at least swing a solid hit. Still, the nonstop scrapping and no shut-eye were chewing him up. ¡°They¡¯re here!¡± Mallow roared, jabbing a finger at the walker horde rolling in. Kevin locked eyes on the distance. The walkers¡¯ guttural growls rumbled back, thick in the air. Waves of warped shapes lurched closer, their slow, relentless trudge icing the survivors¡¯ spines. Kevin caught a glint in their dead-ass eyes¡ªlike some shred of will was still kicking. Pure nightmare shit. These weren¡¯t your average shamblers; they were jacked up¡ªstronger, faster, deadlier than anything he¡¯d scrapped with. The supercharged walker army had finally dropped. The prison blew up into madness. Folks screamed, tumbling outta cells, snatching guns, metal bars, machetes¡ªanything that could smash a skull. Survival was the only damn game now. The four watchtowers held a mix of newbies and story vets. Rikk had taken their tips and juiced the defenses harder. Guards were strapped to the gills, locked and loaded for whatever these bastards might sling. The walker army hit the edge of the blazing lights, but the prison crew held their shots. The air hung thick, buzzing with nerves. The electric fence growled low, primed to zap some walker ass into crispy patties. If they could grill these freaks, they¡¯d save a fat stack of bullets. The defenders lined up outside the buildings, locked in to guard their turf. They stood tight, eyes glued to the fence. One walker¡ªshambling slow and goofy¡ªlurched up and pawed at it with a twisted mitt. Sparks popped, and bam¡ªthat sucker fried to a heap of ash in a hot second. A wild roar ripped through the crowd, lighting up the night. Folks hollered like mad, voices bouncing off the dark. Tears streaked their faces, pure rush etched deep. Not long ago, they were just prey, chased down by these damn nightmares. Everything they¡¯d known about life was gone, swallowed by a world choking on chaos and crap. But there was a spark¡ªthey¡¯d got their tech back! This juiced-up gear was their shield against the nonstop walker waves. Another walker pawed the fence and poof¡ªash city. One by one, the shambling bastards hit the juice and crumbled to dust. Even with the wins stacking up, Kevin couldn¡¯t ditch the bad vibe creeping in. Omnispace had rung the bell twice. A lousy electric fence holding off whatever¡¯s next? Fat chance. This place wasn¡¯t some damn picnic¡ªit was The Zombie World! These walkers? They were the new top dogs! How¡¯s a wired-up wall gonna lock ¡®em out for good? Kevin was deep in his head when a monster engine growl ripped the air. A hulking box truck barreled in¡ªsame rig the Governor rolled in the old prison smackdown. The newbies¡¯ faces drained white. They all knew the Governor¡ªthat slimy, pure-evil bastard¡ªtoo damn well. Kevin clocked it: Philip had to have a Worldhopper from the future riding shotgun¡ªsomebody who¡¯d seen the whole playbook. That meant Philip knew this ragtag prison crew looked like chumps now but could turn into a real pain in the ass later. Think about it¡ªsome nobodies you don¡¯t give a shit about today might bulk up and come for your throat tomorrow. You¡¯d squash ¡®em before they got big, right? Hell yeah, you would. So, the game flipped hard. Philip was jacked up beyond reckoning, and the walkers were nastier than ever. This was next-level screwed. ¡°Stop that fuckin¡¯ rig!¡± Marissa barked, face twisted like hell. ¡°Blast the driver!¡± Razor Hawk barked at his crew. Kevin was already on it, dumping a full mag in a heartbeat. A bloody mess flopped outta the driver¡¯s seat, chomped up by walkers fast. But that truck? Still roaring straight at ¡®em! The prison crew unloaded in a frenzy, blasting the truck¡¯s lights and glass to bits. But that beast kept charging, unstoppable, and slammed into the electric fence. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. A roaring boom split the air as the fence busted wide, and the truck plowed through the gap. The back doors flew open, and¡ªholy shit¡ªthe bed was crawling with walkers! Everyone froze, jaws dropped, as these jacked-up freaks spilled out. Trouble¡¯s a damn tag-team. Screams and shots rang out from inside the prison walls! That chunk housed the old folks, the sick, and the slow¡ªso gunfire meant walkers were flooding in through the back hatch. The defenders had run hourly sweeps on every door, figuring they¡¯d locked it down tight. But some sneaky bastard still slipped in and unleashed a walker swarm! In a hot second, the defenders¡¯ rock-solid setup crashed into a total shitstorm. They were getting slammed from every damn angle. Odds of pulling through? Next to zilch! No chance Philip and his Worldhopper cronies were just chilling. They were out there, eyeballing the mess, making damn sure the NPC team got mobbed by walkers from all sides. Even if the crew clawed through, they¡¯d be too wrecked to swing back. That¡¯s when Philip¡¯s gang would roll in and mop up. And it wasn¡¯t just walkers screwing ¡®em¡ªhumans were ripping each other to shreds too. Right on cue, a storm of machine gun blasts and grenade pops smashed the four watchtowers, blowing the spotlights to bits. The whole joint sank back into black. The watchtowers went up in roaring blasts, chunks of junk flying everywhere. Screams got snuffed out fast¡ªbodies shredded in a flash, some of ¡®em Worldhoppers. Machine guns and grenade launchers were way too damn heavy for the newbies¡¯ brittle bones¡ªthey didn¡¯t stand a chance. Kevin smelled the shit hitting the fan and yanked Mallow off their tower just as it ate a barrage of booms. The shockwave banged ¡®em up good¡ªbruises all over¡ªbut Kevin caught a glass shard to the skull, blood gushing down his face. Mallow slapped a bandage on quick, plugging the leak. The snipers were screwed blind in the dark, their big rifles useless as hell. The shooters were losing it, blind as bats in the black, scared stiff they¡¯d catch the next grenade. No way they¡¯d swing back while shaking in their boots. Chaos busted loose, and the defenders¡¯ fight game fell to pieces. The whole gig looked toast. Inside the trashed fence, everybody¡ªstory vets and green Worldhoppers¡ªclamped their jaws and scrapped to stay upright. Their enemies didn¡¯t give a damn, steamrolling lives like it was nothing, just gunning for the win. Kevin hauled up, face hard as stone, and told Mallow, ¡°Get inside, find a hole to duck in.¡± Mallow froze up. ¡°Boss, we gotta bounce together!¡± Kevin¡¯s voice held steady. ¡°I¡¯ve got a big play to make,¡± he said. ¡°Stay safe, man. Don¡¯t you dare eat it, no matter what!¡± Mallow¡¯s mug twisted with worry, but he nodded slow. ¡°Alright, fine. Just watch your ass. If shit hits, we¡¯re bolting as a team, got it?¡± Kevin flicked a quick nod and locked eyes forward, zeroing in on the rough road ahead. Kevin knew it was a mess. If he didn¡¯t move fast, the whole crew was screwed. His only shot was prodding Rikk¡ªthe story¡¯s big dog¡ªto step up and do his damn job. Rikk ran a tight crew that rolled with him no questions asked. Kevin and the newbies had their own gigs brewing, but they needed Rikk¡¯s ass to keep breathing. The real kicker? Everybody was flying solo. If they didn¡¯t sync up, they¡¯d be walker chow or mowed down by the Governor¡¯s goons. Kevin bolted toward Rikk, who was pissed as hell, gun popping off, locked on the walker wall barreling their way. Kevin let out a pissed-off huff. He¡¯d always pegged Rikk as a flashy talker with no real grit¡ªnot much of a scrapper. Now here he was, big shot, yelling orders and shoving his squad to slug it out¡ªwhile totally blowing off any damn plan to actually win. Kevin needed Rikk to hear him out¡ªhis play was the only shot to pull ¡®em all outta this mess. ¡°Rikk, listen up!¡± Kevin hollered. ¡°We gotta haul ass back to the prison, now! Walkers are swarming every damn where, and human bastards are creeping in the dark! Out here¡¯s toast¡ªbail inside!¡± Rikk shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ve got Sharn, Deyl, Mionne, and Melk handling the walkers inside. Probably just a handful of stragglers¡ªain¡¯t a big deal. You lot need to hold tight and keep ¡®em from busting through!¡± Kevin was steaming, damn near ready to blow. Rikk was way off¡ªdead-ass wrong! Walkers were pouring in from both ends, and human bastards were skulking in the dark, picking off the crew one by one. Worse, the defenders were stuck out in the open, no cover, nada. Walkers had ¡®em swamped in numbers, and the human goons were packing heat¡ªmachine guns and grenade launchers, outgunning ¡®em bad. Rikk wasn¡¯t clocking it¡ªstill glued to his old playbook while the enemy flipped the whole damn game. Kevin knew they had to pull back, but Rikk was dug in like a mule. Kevin¡¯s gut knotted up. Hit him like a brick¡ªhe had no smooth talk or charm to sway this bullheaded fool. Despair slammed him like a tidal wave. Were he and Mallow stuck pulling some wild-ass breakout? And Melk¡ªthat hardheaded bastard¡ªwasn¡¯t budging from his spot for shit. Then, a little nugget Omnispace dropped way back sparked in his head. No hesitation¡ªhe tore off the Walker Slayer title, his gold-tier ace, and slapped on the Fire Captain one, silver-tier. Big damn switch. This new tag juiced his Charisma auto when dealing with human NPCs. Plus, it tossed him two extra points on any Charisma rolls with ¡®em. Might just be the kick he needed. With fresh grit, Kevin tapped one of his heavy hitters: a team point privilege. This bad boy let him strong-arm story characters into picking his play. Knowing it was a long shot, Kevin laid out a sharp plan to Rikk. He burned the privilege to lock Rikk¡¯s ears on, no dodging. Bonus was, they¡¯d jawed before¡ªcost him just 100 team points, not the full 200. With the Fire Captain title juicing his Charisma for human NPCs and their old chats, he might just yank this off. Rikk¡¯s face scrunched up like somebody¡¯d kicked his prized pup when Kevin pushed for a full pullback into the prison. He huffed, beat, and jammed his gun back in its holster. ¡°Fine, fine,¡± he growled, pissed as hell. ¡°I¡¯ll roll with your call for now, since we¡¯ve got history. But if you botch this, you¡¯re the first I¡¯m dropping. Clear?¡± With a last loud bark, he roared, ¡°Everybody, heads up! Fall back! We¡¯re hauling ass into the prison for the last damn stand!¡± Kevin let out a long-ass breath, wiped out. He peeked at his team points¡ªdamn, down to 39! Then Omnispace started blasting him with crap: ¡°Rikk¡¯s opinion of you¡¯s slid to Average¡± and ¡°Rikk¡¯s now stone-cold toward you.¡± A little jab of gloom hit him. Screw it, he thought. Who gives a shit if he likes me? If I wasn¡¯t trapped in this hellhole, I¡¯d tell him to shove it up his ass! No wonder Lorrah¡¯s screwing around¡ªguy¡¯s a total dick! Rikk¡¯s yell kicked in, and the story crew plus newbies outside bolted back into the prison. The enemy unloaded again, machine guns and grenade launchers turning the night into a damn fireworks show. They zeroed in on the gates¡ªthe only way in. No shock there. ¡°Knew it,¡± Kevin said, smirking. ¡°They don¡¯t want us bunkered in that joint. Those walls are built like tanks¡ªenemy¡¯s fancy guns and boom sticks ain¡¯t denting ¡®em much.¡± The sudden rattle of gunfire snapped ¡®em awake. Everybody still outside hauled ass through the gates, diving for cover behind the prison walls. Lucky break¡ªmost of ¡®em made it. Chapter 17: Lingering Doubts Kevin clocked it¡ªthe mess inside the prison was uglier than he¡¯d figured. Walkers poured in like fuckin¡¯ rats from every damn nook, turning the cellblock into a straight-up slaughterhouse. Women, old folks, and kids bolted for their lives. Over a dozen walkers pinned down the unlucky, chomping and tearing into ¡®em. Blood gushed, guts splashed, and screams bounced off the walls. Rikk and the crew stood there, jaws dropped. They¡¯d just slammed those damn doors shut with the Prison Key, and the routine sweeps had been clean. So how the hell did these walkers sneak in? No time to chew on it now. Sharn, Mionne, Melk, and the rest were scrapping for their damn lives. They lit up when Rikk and his squad rolled in as backup. Everybody snatched their gear and unloaded on the walker swarm. Marissa, Razor Hawk, and the newbies weren¡¯t about to sit on their hands. They whipped out fresh weapons¡ªsnagged with team points from the story crew¡ªand blasted the walkers, sending ¡®em staggering and yowling. They knew if the NPC team tanked, they¡¯d all be toast. These weren¡¯t your everyday shamblers. Second mutation jacked ¡®em up¡ªbig and nasty as hell. Average walker now loomed 6 feet, with some brutes hitting 6.5. They¡¯d beefed up too, tipping over 200 pounds. Muscles bulged hard, busting through skin, flashing bloody meat and veins. Looked uglier and hit way harder. Kevin hacked at a 6.5-foot walker with his fuckin¡¯ blade, but the damn thing swatted him off like a bug. He pegged their Strength at over 10 points¡ªblew his mind. Back when he¡¯d rolled into Omnispace, his Strength was a measly 3. Gear and boosts had juiced it to 8, enough to scrap with regular walkers. But these mutated freaks? Whole different beast. The other newbies didn¡¯t stand a chance¡ªout of their league. Even two of ¡®em teaming up would get chewed up trying to drop one of these bastards. And it got uglier. Old-school walkers rocked about 60 HP, but these tanks were pushing 80. Kevin popped a shot clean into a walker¡¯s skull, a chill crawling up his spine. The thing reeled, dazed for a hot second, then let out a nasty howl and charged him again. One headshot didn¡¯t drop ¡®em cold anymore! This flipped the whole damn game¡ªpower scale gone sideways. What used to take one pop now needed two or more, slashing their kill rate in half. But Kevin wasn¡¯t tapping out. He lunged at the walker, jamming his blade into its throat, then hacked its head clean off with a slick swipe. The freak hit the dirt, rampage done. Kevin scoped the chaos, hunting a familiar mug. There¡ªMallow, smack in the shitstorm. Meanwhile, Rikk¡¯s kid Cahl was locked in a hardcore chase, tailing a blood-drenched walker. Danger be damned, Cahl¡¯s face was carved with grit, unloading his revolver into the thing, hate blazing in his head. Mallow saw his shot and charged, trusty steel shovel flashing in the gloom. He smashed the walker down with raw swings. But Cahl¡¯s fire wasn¡¯t quenched¡ªhe kept blasting the head into a nasty pulp. Kevin flicked his eyes over and clocked a woman¡¯s body nearby. Her gut was ripped wide, half her insides chewed up. Blood plastered her face, blurring the details, but Cahl¡¯s freakout and her gear screamed it¡ªRikk¡¯s wife, Lorrah! Lorrah was stone dead. Same as the old tale, a walker had slipped in from the prison¡¯s back end and got her. But there¡ªsmack on her head¡ªa clean bullet hole. Cahl wailed, gutted. This kid¡ªbarely ten¡ªhad choked down his mom¡¯s last plea and popped her himself before she turned into one of those damn freaks! A gut-punch nightmare, no kidding! Kevin¡¯s brain kicked into gear. That family pic he¡¯d snagged from Rikk¡¯s place flashed up¡ªmaybe this useless junk had some juice now. Walkers¡¯ slow roll was their big flaw. Hardened pros like the main crew could still drop these mutated bastards with one headshot or a quick blade swing. Even with their second mutation and jacked-up tricks, the story crew and newbies teamed up and got it done. The prison defenders shoved the front line back hard, all the way to Zone D¡¯s back door. Glenor slammed that sucker shut just in time, leaving the walkers gnashing and clawing at the iron bars. They were like rabid dogs, starving for a bite. But the door stood tough, and all they could do was howl their damn guts out. Over at Zone D¡¯s front, the iron gate was locked down with H-shaped steel beams, sealing the walkers out cold. They bashed it with everything they had, but that thing wasn¡¯t budging an inch. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. For now, they¡¯d dodged the worst of it. The crew started sizing up the wreckage. The toll was brutal¡ª23 story vets got smoked in the shitshow, tons taken out by the walker swarm that hit from the prison¡¯s rear. Among the dead? The big lady herself, Lorrah. Rikk stood watch over Lorrah¡¯s dead frame, face locked in stone-cold grief. Cahl hung quiet beside him, eyes hollowed out by the mess. Just minutes back, the kid had gone full beast mode¡ªway past his years¡ªpopping off with killer aim, dropping over 10 walkers. His shots were nuts, like he¡¯d been born with a gun in hand. Kevin, who¡¯d burned through rounds like candy and still sucked with pistols, felt like a damn chump. The newbies took hits too¡ªfirst from the machine gun spray, then the next wave. Three got smoked, and two were hanging by a thread, including Sally, shredded to chunks by a tower blast. Lorrah and Sally going down gutted the crew hard. Omnispace¡¯s voice rang out: ¡°Defend the Prison Phase 1 has concluded. Despite significant losses, 80% of your group remains intact. You are secure for the night. The mission is halfway completed¡ªPhase 2 commences tomorrow at 7 a.m.¡± The crew had finally snagged some breathing room. That first shitstorm was the ugliest¡ªnow they¡¯d got their act together, defenses locked on both ends. Walkers couldn¡¯t bust in, so they were good ¡®til dawn. Come sunrise, walker hustle would drop off. That¡¯s when they¡¯d map out a counter punch. Rikk, the head honcho, was choking on guilt and grief over Lorrah. He slumped there, eyes glued to her dead husk, kissing her ghost-pale face like she was just napping. Aundra, Amy, and the old doc tried yakking at him, but it was like talking to a brick wall. Even Marissa, working her charm to cozy up, got shoved off hard. Her face flipped¡ªlike she¡¯d caught some Omnispace ping¡ªand she stomped off to her cell, slamming the door with a bang. Mallow cracked a grin. ¡°This chick, right after the man¡¯s wife croaks, tries to slide in and play sidepiece. Probably pissed Rikk off good¡ªher stock¡¯s tanking now, not climbing into mistress territory. Heh¡­¡± Kevin paused, then said, ¡°But we can¡¯t lose Rikk as the head man. The crew¡¯s grit rides on him keeping it tight. If he cracks, our counter punch tomorrow¡¯s toast.¡± He stepped over to Cahl, Rikk¡¯s lone kid, and pulled out that beat-up family photo. ¡°Snagged this from your spot when we rolled through town,¡± he said. ¡°Sorry about your mom, little man. It¡¯s rough, but it ain¡¯t on you. She gets it, she¡¯s cool with you, and she loves you more than anything, kiddo.¡± Cahl, the tough nut, finally broke¡ªtears spilling as he stared at the last family snap. He charged Rikk, knocking him flat. ¡°You jerk!¡± he hollered. ¡°You killed my mom! I hate your guts!¡± Rikk clamped his son tight and roared, ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s all on me! I¡¯m done here! Don¡¯t even try stopping me!¡± He snatched his assault rifle, ready to bolt out the front hatch. Kevin clocked it quick¡ªrushed in, grabbed his arm, and yanked him back from the door. Rikk hit the deck, muttering, ¡°Get the hell outta my way, you bastard! Let me go! Let me die!¡± Cahl bolted over, pleading, ¡°Dad, don¡¯t do this! I need you!¡± Rikk locked eyes with his kid, a spark kicking in. ¡°Yeah, I hear you, little man. Can¡¯t quit now¡ªI¡¯ve gotta raise you, for your mom¡­¡± He scooped up Lorrah¡¯s dead weight and marched to his cell. Before shutting the door, he shot Kevin a look loaded with raw gratitude. ¡°Worldhopper 4444, your timely call and selfless hustle pulled the team through. Using the plot item, you triggered the hidden subplot Rikk¡¯s Lament, snapping the guilt-drunk Rikk awake early. For this, you snag a 2% Plot Deviation Rate and 300 team points. Plus, Rikk¡¯s vibe with you jumps to Intimate, Cahl¡¯s to Grateful.¡± The 300 team points looked real juicy, but Kevin hadn¡¯t forgotten¡ªhe¡¯d shelled out 100 of his own to save their asses. Figured he¡¯d doubled that back, plus nabbed another 100 for cracking Rikk¡¯s Lament¡ªstandard payout for hidden subplot gigs. After a brutal, soul-crushing night, the story crew and newbies were beat to shit¡ªbody and mind. But nobody crashed out. One nasty question gnawed at ¡®em all: Who the fuck cracked that damn door for the walkers? Morimaru hauled up and said, ¡°I got a hunch who fucked us over.¡± Everybody swung their eyes his way. He laid it out, ¡°I was scrounging in Zone A for the key, passed a storage dump, and caught voices inside. Figured survivors maybe, but I was too jammed to poke around. Could be those bastards busted in.¡± ¡°Makes sense,¡± Marissa said, flat as hell, heading out the cell. ¡°Story goes, five jailbirds are still holed up in this joint, stocked with grub to ride out a stretch. After the story crew pulls ¡®em out, their head honcho pays back the save with a knife in the gut. They scrap with Rikk¡¯s posse, and only one runt slips the net. For payback, he drags a walker swarm to the gates, slices the doors open, trips the alarm, and bam¡ªprison¡¯s under siege, just like tonight. We bolted the doors, threw extra boots on patrol, but looks like you can¡¯t outrun the damn script. And Lorrah¡¯s toast ¡®cause of it.¡± Marissa flicked her eyes at Morimaru. ¡°Maybe those voices you caught were the original plot NPC jailbirds.¡± Morimaru gave a slow nod, lips zipped, probably piecing the shit together in his head. Most of the other newbies who¡¯d clocked the story nodded along too. Kevin kept his gaze locked on Marissa, clocking how she¡¯d tanked with Rikk. Rikk¡¯s screw-up had cost him Lorrah, left him choking on guilt. So when he spotted Marissa¡ªwho¡¯d stirred crap between him and Lorrah way back¡ªhe¡¯d likely think, ¡°Aw, hell, not this chick again.¡± Without Rikk¡¯s nod, Marissa¡¯s shot at running the newbies was toast. That¡¯s why she was pissy as hell but still yakking nonstop, trying to rope Morimaru into her corner. Kevin couldn¡¯t shake it though¡ªIs Marissa on the money? Or is this just Omnispace yanking the damn plot back to its old tracks? Chapter 18: The Insider Kevin snapped awake at 3 a.m., Mallow¡¯s growl yanking him up. His hand shot for his blade, no thinking needed. Third patrol shift was his now¡ªafter last night¡¯s shitshow, the whole crew was wound tight, patrols running nonstop. Kevin¡¯s turn to roll. They scoped Zone D, all quiet. The walker at the front gate kept smashing the steel, a damn broken record. Story vets were posted up, holding watch. Omnispace called it a safe night, so that shambler wasn¡¯t crashing in anytime soon. Kevin and Mallow hit the barred back door. Melk and Deyl were camped there, eyeballing the walkers through the gaps. They clocked Kevin coming and tossed him a quick nod. ¡°Kid, you fuckin¡¯ nailed it today!¡± Melk said, rare as hell for him to gas Kevin up. ¡°First, you stepped up for that useless cop with the right call. Then you mopped up his mess. Shit, seeing him like that, I damn near wanted to cap his sorry ass myself.¡± ¡°Hold up, Melk, his wife¡¯s gone!¡± Deyl barked. ¡°Kevin, check this shit out.¡± Kevin leaned in, trailing Deyl¡¯s finger to the spot where the door got bolted. ¡°This where Rikk locked it down, right?¡± Kevin asked. ¡°Yeah,¡± Deyl said. ¡°We all saw it¡ªclear as fuckin¡¯ daylight. That door was shut tight¡ªtight as hell! No slick Atlanta pickpocket could¡¯ve cracked it, let alone some damn walker!¡± ¡°But it got popped open,¡± Kevin said, brow creasing. ¡°Hey, I caught your little powwow, and that short-haired chick¡¯s full of shit!¡± Melk sneered, dripping sarcasm. ¡°Dunno how you punks think you¡¯re psychic, seeing the damn future, but if some jailbird pulled this, it¡¯d be a sloppy-ass job¡ªmarks all over. Me and Deyl are the pros at sniffing that crap out, and we didn¡¯t see jack.¡± Melk snorted hard and spat a fat loogie straight into the walker¡¯s drooling trap through the bars. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying?¡± Mallow¡¯s eyes popped wide. ¡°It got busted open with a damn key!¡± Deyl snarled. ¡°A spy?¡± Mallow blurted, then slapped a hand over his yap, scoping if anybody clocked it. ¡°Alright, pipe down. Two ways this shakes out,¡± Melk growled, voice low and twitchy. ¡°Either we¡¯ve got a mole screwing us, or some outsider slipped in. Remember those SUV tracks Deyl pointed out? Tonight, we ate grenades and machine gun spray¡ªwalkers don¡¯t fuckin¡¯ play with that! This is an outside job, no question!¡± ¡°I¡¯m with you¡ªoutsiders were in on tonight¡¯s hit,¡± Kevin said, tone cold as steel. ¡°But how¡¯d they pull it off? They¡¯d have to sneak past a hundred of us guarding this joint, dodge the patrols, and unlock the back door. First, where¡¯d they snag the key? Rikk¡¯s the one who locked it¡ªain¡¯t no way he¡¯d pop it open and let walkers chew his wife. Second, how¡¯d outsiders know our setup and patrol gaps like that? Two big-ass holes we gotta plug.¡± ¡°Hey, what if it¡¯s one of our own damn crew?¡± Mallow said, voice dripping with doubt. ¡°Some insider could¡¯ve sniffed out the key or fucked with the patrols.¡± ¡°An insider?¡± Kevin echoed, brow creasing hard. ¡°Could be, I reckon. But we¡¯re all Worldhoppers here¡ªstuck in the same shit. Yeah, we scrap sometimes, but we¡¯re in it deep. If the team goes down or the Governor takes the pot, what¡¯s the fuckin¡¯ point of stabbing us in the back?¡± The more they chewed it over, the more the questions piled up like a damn mess. ¡°Man, this ain¡¯t some cop show¡ªthis is The Zombie World! How the hell did we land in this twisted-ass riddle?¡± Mallow groaned, dragging his fingers through his hair, pissed as shit. ¡°Alright, who was on patrol that night?¡± Kevin asked, face dark as coal. ¡°Let¡¯s scope the rundown,¡± Deyl said, voice low and gritty, flipping through the patrol log. ¡°First crew: Razor Hawk, four heads, 9 to 10 p.m. Second crew: Marissa, four more, 10 to 11 p.m. Third crew, 11 to 12, was Sally, Morimaru, Jungwoo, and you, Mallow.¡± ¡°Hey, Mallow, anything off on your patrol?¡± Kevin asked, voice tight with worry. ¡°Nah, don¡¯t think so,¡± Mallow said, scratching his skull, face all twisted up. ¡°I was hauling at the back, Sally was up front, and nothing weird stuck with me.¡± ¡°And the locks were solid?¡± Kevin asked, eyes sharp, holding Mallow steady. ¡°All good,¡± Mallow said, waving it off. ¡°Those are some heavy-ass locks. Even with hydraulic cutters, you¡¯re talking half an hour easy. Unless¡­¡± ¡°Unless what?¡± Kevin pressed, tone edged with a spark. ¡°Unless they had the damn key,¡± Mallow said with a half-grin. ¡°But that¡¯s pie in the sky.¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Kevin¡¯s face darkened like hell, clawing his temples like a storm was brewing. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s keep it tight for now.¡± Kevin and Mallow clocked out at 5 a.m., sky just cracking light. Even that early, they figured they¡¯d snag a couple hours of shut-eye. When Kevin first jumped into Omnispace, the heat and stress kept him wired all night. But now, he got how big rest was, snatching any shot to recharge. You can¡¯t always kick back when you¡¯re dying for it¡ªlast few nights proved that cold. If you don¡¯t learn to chill mid-fight, even if you don¡¯t bite it, you¡¯ll burn out fast. At 7 a.m. sharp, dawn¡¯s first rays sliced the dark, and a walker horde rolled in, kicking off the grim grind: slash walkers, take hits, crash, heal a scratch, then dive back in¡­ ¡­But a few familiar mugs didn¡¯t show up on the battlefield¡­ It wasn¡¯t ¡®til dawn that Kevin dragged his beat ass back to his cell, crashing out without a blink. Kevin rolled outta bed and found Rikk already barking orders in the hall. He hustled over to join the crew. Rikk, his face grim as hell, was jamming shells into his shotgun while barking at the crew. ¡°We¡¯re busting outta this hole and carving through. Glenor and Deyl scoped the joint yesterday and got the dirt. That hit after midnight wasn¡¯t just walkers¡ªhumans were in it, slinging machine guns and grenades. I¡¯ve got a plan to shove it back in their faces. Step 1: sweep the walkers in this dump, scour every corner for any scumbags hiding, and snag whatever gear we can scrape up. Keep it close. Step 2: hunt those bastards down and hit ¡®em with everything we¡¯ve got¡ªwipe ¡®em out for good!¡± Rikk¡¯s mug was twisted with rage. No shock there¡ªLorrah, his whole damn drive, got smoked in the raid, and now he¡¯s burning to settle the score. Cahl stood tight by his old man, fist clenched hard. The crew nodded along¡ªRikk¡¯s play made sense. Clear the walker mess inside before rolling out. ¡°Listen up,¡± Rikk said, voice barking orders. ¡°Deyl, Mionne, Glenor, Magra, Aundra¡ªyou¡¯re hunting down those punks who jumped us. Don¡¯t let that shit slide again.¡± He locked eyes with Deyl, the hard-ass archer. ¡°If it goes sideways, don¡¯t play hero¡ªjust haul back here. We¡¯ll have this dump cleared in a day or two.¡± ¡°Rest of you,¡± Rikk went on, scoping the crew, ¡°we¡¯re locking this joint down. Hit Zones A and C today. Zone A might have survivors¡ªtrack ¡®em down and snag any gear you can.¡± The familiar voice of Omnispace echoed in every Worldhopper¡¯s mind, precise and cold: ¡°Day five has commenced. You have survived another trial. Your next objective awaits. Select your course: 1. Join Deyl¡¯s unit in their reconnaissance and pursuit operation. 2. Accompany Rikk¡¯s unit into Zone A to secure resources from remaining prisoners. 3. Assist Melk¡¯s unit in Zone C to neutralize concealed threats within the prison perimeter.¡± The newbies bunched up again, splitting into tight squads of three to five heads. The Razor Hawk crew threw in with Rikk¡¯s team. Reasons were all over: some were tight with Sharn, others were itching for gear, and a couple wanted to sniff out that backup generator buzz in Zone A. Marissa ditched her usual play and rolled with Deyl¡¯s scout-and-track squad instead of Rikk¡¯s. That jump might mean she¡¯s done with Rikk for good. Maybe she was playing her inside scoop to cash in with Deyl. Morimaru and Jungwoo, hyped by their idols Mionne and Glenor, tagged along on the tracking gig too. Only Kevin and Mallow picked Melk¡¯s Zone C run. Kevin¡¯s real angle was likely picking up tricks from the old dog Melk. With 339 team points in his pocket, Kevin could swap for three skills. As for the traitor, he figured the truth would bust out in a couple days. Kevin strapped on the gold-tier Walker Slayer (+20% damage to walkers), while Mallow rocked the silver-tier Walker Killer (+10%). With walkers mutated twice, every edge mattered. Without it, you¡¯d need a half-dozen swings at their soft spots to drop one, and even a nick from those bastards could end you. ¡°Listen up, rookies,¡± Melk barked, voice oozing sarcasm. ¡°You might be hot shit at killing walkers, but they¡¯re damn pros at chewing you up! Our only leg up is we¡¯ve got brains and play tight. Scrap without a plan, and you¡¯ll figure out fast how ugly it gets out here!¡± Melk shot a look at T-Bone. ¡°Ain¡¯t that right, food coma?¡± T-Bone¡¯s face went red, glaring hard. ¡°Can you shut the hell up? We need teamwork, man¡ªteamwork!¡± Melk smirked, zipped it, and waved the crew to gear up. Meanwhile, Kevin locked in. He dropped 100 survival points to scope all the team¡¯s tradeable skills, then went big¡ªburned all 300 team points in one shot! Ever since sniffing out a possible traitor, Kevin stayed sharp as a blade. He was done playing safe¡ªtime to dump everything into leveling up. Scoring another jackpot like that 300% flip on a 100-point bet? He¡¯d have to keep breathing to cash it in. Kevin didn¡¯t mess around, trading with Melk for three skills fast: Mobility Mastery Level 1: Boosts walking and running speed by 5%, dodging by 5%. Large Blades Mastery Level 1: Ups handling of swords, rapiers, axes, and big blades, pumping damage by 5%. Throat Slash Level 1: Advanced melee active skill. Prerequisites: Small Blades Mastery, Large Blades Mastery, or other requirements. Works with bladed weapons. Cost: Drains 10 energy points per use, good for one hit. Effect: When triggered, the target rolls a Toughness check with a -3 penalty. Fail it, and Throat Slash lands¡ªdrops enemies with 100 HP flat. Over 100 HP, it hits for quadruple damage and bleeds ¡®em for 5 seconds, 6 HP per tick. Note: Needs a special character or scroll to unlock. Worldhoppers can¡¯t grab it solo. After scoping the three skills, Kevin cracked a cold grin and pulled his dagger, primed to carve into the prison¡¯s guts. Mallow stuck tight behind Kevin. He¡¯d shelled out 100 team points to snag Physical Defense Mastery Level 1 from T-Bone. Confidence pumped through him hard. Survival of the fittest¡ªthat¡¯s the fuckin¡¯ law! Keep leveling or you¡¯re burned toast! Chapter 19: Outlaw鈥檚 Ink ¡°Clear left!¡± ¡°Clear right!¡± ¡°Push forward! Watch your step!¡± The tactical flashlight sliced the dark. Inside the prison, chaos ruled¡ªbloody handprints smeared the walls, floor a sick stew of busted bodies and splattered guts. Even the ceiling dripped red. Kevin couldn¡¯t shake it¡ªwhat kind of freak show tore this place up? ¡°Blood pumps like a damn beast when panic hits¡ªup to 20 feet a second!¡± Melk said, grinning like a twisted bastard, kicking a half-ripped corpse. ¡°Bust a big artery, and it sprays like a damn hose, 10 feet easy. No wonder this hole¡¯s a slaughterhouse. Picture a walker chomping your neck sometime¡ªbet it¡¯d fountain just as high!¡± Mallow couldn¡¯t stop the shakes, nerves strung tight. Kevin just shrugged off Melk¡¯s dark jab with a low chuckle. The crew hit the second cell block in Zone C. Walkers weren¡¯t as wild as they¡¯d been at night, but double mutations still made ¡®em a damn handful. Even T-Bone and Guilan, dead-eye shots, couldn¡¯t drop one with a clean headshot. Melk didn¡¯t blink¡ªprobably ¡®cause he was a wizard with a gun. Mallow, stuck with a lousy 5 Strength, was getting owned. His shovel whacked the walker¡¯s neck, barely ticking it off, and with his measly 6 Stamina, one swing from that thing could flatten him. A bite? Game over, no question. He was down to dodging and poking¡ªdarting in to jab, scrambling back, then looping around for another weak stab. Kevin wasn¡¯t some fuckin¡¯ pushover in a scrap, packing 7 Strength and 8 Stamina. But the walker wasn¡¯t slacking either. After two mutations, it was a tank¡ªguessing 10 Stamina and Strength at night, 8 by day. Straight-up slugfest? Coin toss who¡¯d eat dirt. But Kevin¡¯s gear and skills flipped the odds hard: Melee Mastery pumped his melee damage by 5%. Small Blades Mastery juiced his dagger¡¯s speed and damage by 5%. Bulletproof Vest shaved physical damage by 10%. Physical Defense Mastery sliced damage another 5%. Mobility Mastery bumped his evasion and attack speed by 5%. Feather Boots tacked on 2 Agility, 30% movement speed, and 5% evasion. And his gold-tier Walker Slayer stacked 20% extra damage against walkers. All this turned Kevin into a damn wall in close quarters, cranking his damage through the roof. Against walkers, his buffs made his hits faster, harder, and dead-on, letting him slip their swings easy. His dagger, base 5 damage, now smashed walker skulls for over 16 on a crit¡ªtriple the punch. Five swings, and a regular walker was toast. Since the dagger was the fastest blade in a close scrap, its low damage got offset by rapid stabs. Kevin just had to bait the walker into a dumb charge, then unload a storm of dagger hits from behind and drop it cold. He¡¯d also locked down Throat Slash, a brutal move that forced the walker to roll a Toughness check¡ªdamn near guaranteed to flop. Even if it clung on, its 80-ish HP couldn¡¯t tank the quadruple damage plus 30 bleeding ticks. Kevin felt like a spec-ops killer, shredding anything dumb enough to step up. He danced with the walker, dodging and slicing, while Mallow smashed it from behind with his shovel. Both played hit-and-run, weaving past its swings and striking when it blinked. Their grind was slow but solid, piling up walker bodies. Thanks to nights of carnage, Kevin¡¯s tally for the platinum-tier Walker Reaper hit 1,457 out of 2,000. But luck had a hand in it. Without that ballsy two-fire stunt, he wouldn¡¯t have sniffed this close. In Omnispace, big risks paid fat stacks. Each double-mutated walker now dropped 10 survival points a kill. So Kevin and Mallow kept slashing ¡®til they were half-dead, only falling back to lick wounds when they couldn¡¯t dodge anymore. Stingy as hell, they skipped healing gear, letting HP crawl back on its own. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Dude, how many¡¯d you bag?¡± Mallow rasped, sucking wind. ¡°Uh, twelve or so. You?¡± Kevin shot back, chest heaving. ¡°Got four you missed. These bastards are toughening up¡ªI damn near ate a swipe. Smart move juicing your close-quarters game,¡± Mallow said, huffing. ¡°Yeah, my close-quarters ain¡¯t exactly king-tier. Check this,¡± Kevin said, nodding at the mess. Mallow watched wide-eyed as Melk stabbed a walker clean through the skull with his strapped-on blade, then slammed it into another¡¯s eye with a quick twist. He yanked both walkers up like they were trash and flung ¡®em into the horde. The old gunslingers from Guilan¡¯s nursing home saw it and lost their shit, spraying bullets wild. Walkers dropped like flies. Mallow stuck out his tongue. ¡°Yeah, that dude¡¯s a damn beast¡ªway scarier than any walker.¡± But the real hell was the night swarm. Too many to count, way past what any human line could hold¡ªa straight-up saturation assault. By day, they split into small packs¡ªweak solo, perfect for hunting practice. Melk shot ¡®em a look. ¡°Alright, ladies, ready to roll? We gotta hit the next spot before dark. No slacking on my watch.¡± Kevin gave a sharp nod, and they hauled ass up. The crew moved out. *** As they pushed deeper, the prison turned alien. The first stretch was creepy and dim, sure, but had vents and skylights leaking some glow. This new chunk? Pure concrete jungle. The walls loomed thick¡ª30 inches of hardcore reinforced concrete. Cell doors were solid steel slabs, way tougher than the rebar junk from before. No windows, just a skinny slit at the bottom to shove food through. ¡°Man, what the hell¡¯s this¡ªAlcatraz? Fox River? Why¡¯re the walls so damn thick?¡± Mallow griped, kicking dust. Kevin cracked a grin. Mallow¡¯s grumbling hit his dark funny bone¡ªgamers gonna game, even with walkers chewing the world. Melk busted out a laugh. ¡°Welcome to America¡¯s max-security shithole, ladies! Land here, and you¡¯re kissing daylight and your pretty mugs goodbye. You¡¯re good for now, but walking free? That¡¯s all on how hard you kick ass.¡± Mallow¡¯s nerves were shot again, but Kevin smacked his shoulder. ¡°Chill, Mallow.¡± ¡°Man, you some damn psychic? How¡¯d you know I was losing it?¡± ¡°¡®Cause your flashlight¡¯s shaking like a disco ball in a shitty flick, dumbass!¡± Mallow¡¯s voice broke. ¡°Big man Melk, you said this is a max-security joint, right? What kinda freaks we got in here?¡± Melk flashed a crooked grin. ¡°Why don¡¯t you go peek?¡± He kicked Mallow through the next door. Mallow¡¯s scream tore through the prison, outdoing the world¡¯s top tenors on a bender. Kevin, wired over Mallow¡¯s safety, bolted in, T-Bone hot on his heels. Mallow was a mess, sprawled on the floor, hugging a corpse and freaking out. Five days in this hellhole, and he¡¯d held it together¡ª¡®til Melk booted him into a walker-infested dark pit. Kevin hauled Mallow up and shot Melk a death stare. ¡°Dude, for real? Quit scaring the shit outta him!¡± Melk chuckled low. ¡°Just stirring the pot, boys. You needed a damn laugh.¡± Mallow, still shaking like a leaf, yanked out a notebook¡ªa diary he¡¯d snagged from the body pile. This joint was stuffed with felons, locked up and just waiting to rot. With nothing but time, tons of ¡®em turned to scribbling diaries¡ªguess it beat staring at walls. Kevin flicked on his tactical flashlight, cracked the diary open, and started reading. The felon¡¯s name was Outlaw¡ªeither his folks saw his fate coming or they jinxed him into a cage. Anyway, this poor bastard scored his dream gig: a long-term crash course in the big house, ¡°studying¡± ¡®til his days ran dry. Outlaw lived for writing, jotting down daily scraps that somehow meant something to him. If he¡¯d hit Kevin¡¯s era and posted online, he might¡¯ve blown up as a writer. Kevin skimmed a few pages¡ªnothing but dull crap. Melk, itching, raised his gun. ¡°Move it, ladies. His old cellmates are hungry, and we ain¡¯t got time to dick around.¡± Right then, Kevin yelped¡ªa key clattered outta the damn diary. He kept digging, secrets starting to spill. ¡°¡­I heard a loud bang¡ªcouldn¡¯t tell if it was a gun or what. Then a key fell outta some dead guard¡¯s pocket. It bounced a couple times and landed right in my cell. Holy shit, could this be my ticket outta this hole? I grip it like I used to choke those hookers. Only metal I¡¯ve seen in years, ¡®cept them damn dog bowls. A pack of guards stormed in, took down this giant dude¡ªsounded like the floor caved when he hit. They said he was the meanest crook in the damn country! They started hunting the key, but I stashed it good. Couldn¡¯t find it for shit, so this little prize is mine¡­¡± ¡°¡­Son of a bitch, I heard the guards yakking¡ªthis key ain¡¯t for my cell. It¡¯s for that psycho locked deep down in a special pit, sun gone forever. The door¡¯s a beast¡ªthree feet of solid steel, hydraulic, self-powered. No busting through without this key, not even with a nuke¡­¡± ¡°¡­Caught the guards muttering ¡®bout some big government secret buried down there. Even after the world went to hell, folks kept slipping in and out that door. Got me thinking¡ªmaybe this prison¡¯s locked tight to keep something else in¡­¡± Chapter 20: Legendary Hidden Mission As Kevin and Mallow tore through the diary, an Omnispace alert hummed in their skulls: ¡°Worldhopper 4444 and 4445, you have activated the legendary-tier hidden main storyline mission: The Cause of the Apocalypse. This mission reveals the world¡¯s ultimate secret and is central to the narrative. It is a singular event¡ªcompletion by your team prevents further activation. Warning: This mission is mandatory once initiated. Its difficulty is variable and may exceed your team¡¯s current capabilities, resulting in unpredictable outcomes. Note: The maximum reward potential includes a divine artifact shard.¡± Kevin and Mallow¡¯s jaws dropped, eyes bugging out. Melk and T-Bone, stuck as NPCs, didn¡¯t catch the Omnispace ping¡ªthey just figured these two punks finally cracked after rotting in this cursed dump. Mallow¡¯s voice shook, half-laughing, half-choking. ¡°B-Boss, we¡¯re fucking loaded! Haha, we hit the damn jackpot¡ªa divine artifact shard!¡± Kevin winced, froze a sec, then nodded slow. ¡°This mission¡¯s got a long name¡ªlegendary and hidden jammed in there. Sounds epic as hell, I¡¯ll give it that. Divine artifact shard? Sweet as shit. But we oughta draft our wills. This time next year, we¡¯re toasting our own graves, you feel me?¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Real talk¡ªhow tough are we?¡± ¡°Straight up? We¡¯re weak as piss. Ten walkers at once, and we¡¯re gone faster than a damn bullet.¡± ¡°High reward, high risk¡ªduh. But why the fuck are we greenhorns stuck with a legendary mission and a divine shard on the line? And a mandatory legendary gig in the newbie trial? This ain¡¯t a test¡ªit¡¯s fuckin¡¯ slaughter!¡± Kevin snarled, pissed off. Mallow¡¯s heart slammed as he scanned the mission fine print, spotting a sneaky line buried at the bottom: ¡°Locate the correct door for the key and enter the mission zone within one hour. Failure results in elimination.¡± Picture this: Your phone rings, and it¡¯s some mafia big shot. ¡°Yo, listen up!¡± he barks. ¡°Congrats, you¡¯ve just scored 200 million bucks! Yeah, 200 million! Odds are nuttier than a penguin hustling pool. But to grab your cash, there¡¯s a tiny fee¡ªjust 2 million bucks. Wire it to account 555-xxx-6789 in the next hour. Screw us over, and you¡¯re in deep shit¡ªfamily-wiped-out kinda trouble. Capisce?¡± Mallow snapped outta his daze and smacked himself hard. ¡°So this ain¡¯t no hero¡¯s lucky break; it¡¯s a damn death trap! Why¡¯d I have to be such a fucking moron? Shit, I¡¯m too young to croak! Damn you, Omnispace! This has gotta be illegal, right? What scam tops this?!¡± Kevin and Mallow were losing it, cursing up a storm. They were so pissed they could¡¯ve choked Omnispace barehanded¡ªif they knew where the hell it was hiding. Melk and T-Bone just stared, watching these two clowns lose their shit in this screwed-up world, shaking their heads like they¡¯d seen it all. But maybe all that swearing paid off. Guess what? Omnispace chimed in again: ¡°Considering Worldhopper 4444 and 4445 are newcomers with limited power levels, the system calculates your probability of death on this mission at over 99.999999%.¡± (Kevin muttered under his breath, ¡°Why not just say we¡¯re fucked six ways to Sunday? Thanks for sparing our feelings, you prick!¡±) ¡°Due to regulations prohibiting missions with death rates exceeding 95%, combined with the newcomer protection policy, this legendary-level mission is downgraded to nightmare-level, with rewards adjusted accordingly. After adjustment, your death rate is reduced to 97.6%.¡± (Kevin spat, ¡°Bullshit! Still a death sentence? You¡¯re screwing us twice now, you assholes!¡±) The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Given the difficulty remains excessive, a temporary item and medicine exchange is activated for 5 minutes. Worldhoppers may enhance survival odds by trading for medicines and supplies. The mission begins when the estimated death rate falls below 95%. If the Worldhoppers die, survival points are nonrefundable.¡± Omnispace stuck to its ¡°no discussion, no protection, no responsibility¡± line, sending the two rookies into a fresh freak-out. (Kevin snarled low, ¡°If we don¡¯t dump everything on meds, we¡¯re dead meat for sure.¡±) Scared shitless but cornered, they had no choice but to roll with it. Kevin bellowed, ¡°Fuck it! Stack hay while the sun¡¯s blazing!¡± Mallow, teetering on the edge, hollered, ¡°Living¡¯s like getting screwed¡ªif you can¡¯t stop it, might as well lean in!¡± ¡°Right on, brother!¡± The two locked hands in a fierce grip. Melk and T-Bone¡¯s faces twisted, clocking their prized apprentices going from head cases to busted-up wrecks. Sporting black eyes and smashed noses, Kevin and Mallow grinned like idiots, limping side by side. Melk and T-Bone, too beat to bitch, trudged behind. The crew shuffled toward the hydraulic door from the diary. Earlier, Kevin had the brains to burn all their team points on real gear. Lucky for them, the squad was stacked to clear walkers¡ªguns and ammo piled high. With 30 team points, Kevin snagged a Navy Knife from Melk. Nothing flashy, just a plain white-tier blade, but it carved walkers for 15-20 damage¡ªmiles better than his weak-ass 5-point sticker. He tossed the last 9 points to Mallow. Mallow blew his 50-plus points on a slick M16 rifle and a fat stack of ammo. Grabbing the 5-minute window, Kevin and Mallow went nuts, trading all their survival points for potions and meds¡ªshit to keep ¡®em alive now. Kevin¡¯s rule was live large, die broke¡ªno point left unspent. Kevin sat on 5,600 survival points, Mallow over 3,000. Solid haul, but staring death in the face, they got why Omnispace tagged their cash as survival points. A bottle of Hyper Serum refills your health for 5 seconds in a scrap, but it runs you a brutal 2,000 survival points and 1 skill point. A bottle of Speed Potion, juicing your movement speed 30% for 3 minutes, hits you for 500 survival points. A bottle of Stone Skin Potion, pumping your toughness 30% for 3 minutes, also clocks in at 500 survival points. Those gut-punch prices nearly broke the two stingy bastards¡ªthey¡¯d rather sit on points and gut it out than blow ¡®em on meds. One shot cost more than two main missions; that cash bleed stung worse than a thousand slashes. After the spree, Kevin¡¯s eyes were red, chest heaving. He glared at the measly bottles in his grip¡ª2 Hyper Serums, 1 Speed Potion, 1 Stone Skin Potion, and 1 Mamba Venom, a nasty corrosive poison. Five vials, all he had after five brutal days in this screwed-up hellhole. Mallow, meanwhile, nabbed just one Hyper Serum, three chunks of Energy Toast, and an Adrenaline Shot, juicing his shooting power 30% for 3 minutes. But his real brainwave was snagging a steep Sheep Potion¡ª500 survival points down the drain. Sheep Potion: Turns you¡ªnot your enemy¡ªinto a chubby Alpine sheep for 200 seconds. Can¡¯t swing a fist, but you score 5 Agility points to bolt like hell. Every hit shaves off 1 HP, no dodging that. As a sheep, you¡¯re the enemy¡¯s prime meat. When you snap back human, you¡¯re clinging to a thread. This batshit potion¡¯s a lunatic¡¯s lifeline. So Kevin laid into timid Mallow with a hard-ass beatdown. These two dumbasses finally learned the score: cash runs this joint. Now they¡¯re dirt broke¡ªzero team points, under 100 survival points¡ªworse off than when they first crashed this screwed-up dump. Kevin had 9 skill points and 7 attribute points left. He sucked in a deep breath and figured he¡¯d burn ¡®em too. He checked the rules: stats under 5, 1 attribute point buys 1 stat point; 5 to 10, it¡¯s 3 attribute points per stat; over 10, 5 points a pop. Kevin dropped 2 attribute points on Agility, jacking it to 5. With Feather Boots +2 and Beginner Bonus +1, he hit 8 Agility¡ªfinally not lagging behind those mutant walkers. Then he sunk 3 points into Stamina for one more notch. He held off on the last 2 attribute points for now. Skill points? Kept ¡®em cold¡ªnot ¡®cause he didn¡¯t wanna level up, but upgrading skills ate survival points, and he was tapped out. Compared to skills, potions were the play here¡ªquick juice, bigger hits. Who needs fancy-ass tricks if you¡¯re dead meat? Chapter 21: The Big Ton After slogging 100 yards, their eyes locked on the door from the diary. It stuck out, smack in the middle of a thick, curved concrete wall. The whole damn thing looked like one solid chunk, just like the diary swore¡ªbuilt to ¡°eat a nuke and keep standing.¡± It sat 60 feet off from the other cells, with a clear stretch out front. Kevin stomped up, jammed the diary¡¯s key in, and gave it a twist. Smooth as hell, no fight¡ªjust slid right around. He cranked it again, but the key jammed tight. A minute crawled by. No clicks, no hums, no sci-fi beams. Dead nothing. Everyone¡¯s sharp stares melted into confused squints. A few weak coughs cut the quiet, then light chatter sparked up. Kevin and Mallow were gutted. Was this some bullshit trick? They felt ripped off. They¡¯d been suckered into blowing all their cash on weird-ass junk¡ªbirth control vibes from Hyper Serum, massage oil vibes from Stone Skin Potion, Viagra vibes from Adrenaline Shot, and a submission kink with Sheep Potion. They were pumped to slug it out with the boss, but now? Jack shit was happening. What the hell was this? ¡°Maybe the key¡¯s fuckin¡¯ useless. Maybe they swapped the lock after it got lost¡ªor it¡¯s just a big damn joke. Who knows?¡± Melk sneered, grinning like a dick. He took a slow drag, puffed out a smoke ring, flicked the cig to the ground, and waved the crew to roll with him. Kevin barely caught the rumble before the whole prison shook like a bitch. An electronic voice blasted: ¡°Warning! Warning! High-security zone C-03 is opening! Attention all guards¡ªstand by! Unauthorized entry will activate Article 04! Repeat: all guards, stand by!¡± The curved concrete wall in front sunk into the ground with a low growl, peeling back to show a hulking steel beast¡ªcold, mean, and scary as hell. It screamed sci-fi flick, all slick panels fused into one badass slab of tech. A low hydraulic whine cut through, gears clicking steady as the giant metal door creaked open. Built tough¡ªthree feet of reinforced steel, a wall nothing could bust. What kinda secrets were stashed deep in this, the country¡¯s nastiest max-security joint? What screwed-up shit had the guards pulling triggers on prisoners, no trial, after the world went south? What crooked game got a pile of SWAT boys buried in this jail¡¯s black guts? The door swung wide, peeling back to a monster elevator¡ªbig enough to cram a truck in. Inside gleamed with metal, slick and spotless, like some sterile lab wet dream. No backing out now. Kevin stepped up first, Mallow and the crew piling in behind. He shot a look at Melk, who didn¡¯t flinch an inch. That stone-cold bastard always held steady¡ªseeing him dialed Kevin¡¯s nerves down a notch. With T-Bone, Guilan, and a handful of others, ten hard-asses stood locked and loaded. If shit hit the fan, they¡¯d go down swinging. The elevator dropped, dragging on like forever, then jerked to a stop. No floor numbers, just a gut guess¡ªway the hell underground. Omnispace cut in: ¡°Worldhopper 4444 and 4445 have uncovered a hidden main storyline location: a top-secret military lab, code-named JBA-2B. Nightmare-level hidden main storyline mission 1¡ªExploration is now active. Explore the JBA-2B lab and dig up the cause of the global disaster.¡± Kevin¡¯s face went tight. Back in the original tale, Rikk woke up in a hospital with the world already screwed. No one asked why¡ªjust rolled with the chaos. No answers, just scrapping to live. (Walkers muttering, ¡°Hell if we know¡ªthe writers left us hanging too.¡±) Shit was getting weirder every second. Cracking this puzzle could hand ¡®em some real juice. This secret gig looked like it was all about rooting out the apocalypse¡¯s trigger and blasting it wide open. Might even flip the whole damn story on its head. But this mess was creeping Kevin out bad, cash or no cash. Money¡¯s only good if you ain¡¯t a corpse, right? Kevin played it cagey¡ªyour classic ¡°farmer¡± type in game speak. Risk was fine, but eating dirt wasn¡¯t his style. Too bad Mallow had snagged that cursed diary. Omnispace shoved ¡®em into this nightmare gig¡ªno heads-up, no upfront pay, no protection¡ªlike it was begging for a fuck-up. Kevin let out a tired grunt. No way out now. Just keep breathing, stay sharp. He scoped the crew¡ªMelk, T-Bone, Guilan, and a few other tough bastards. Maybe him and Mallow¡¯s shot at crawling outta this hellhole hung on these guys¡ªjust NPCs, but still packing heat. Even with his tricks, Kevin¡¯s survival game was no sharper than T-Bone¡¯s. Melk probably had the edge. No clue if they¡¯d all walk out alive. ¡°Hey, boss! Found the lab!¡± Mallow hollered, barreling toward Kevin, voice lit up with dumbass glee. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Kevin shook his head, sucked in a breath, and steeled himself. ¡°Dead or alive,¡± he growled hard, ¡°we¡¯re going out swinging.¡± With a fresh fire, he tailed Mallow toward the lab they¡¯d sniffed out. Kevin couldn¡¯t shake the bad vibes as he scanned the joint. Flanking him were monster cultivation tanks, sloshing with red-yellow goo like some twisted baby juice. Inside floated pale husks¡ªhalf-human, half-freak, all dead as hell, each warped by some sick mutation. ¡°Holy crap, what the hell are these things?¡± Mallow sputtered, voice cracking. ¡°Omnispace says this is a top-secret military lab. Post-apocalypse, some shady bastards hauled in SWAT, iced all the test meat. Looks like they were messing with bio-shit, then¡ªboom¡ªleak city. Kinda like Umbrella Corp in Resident Evil,¡± Kevin said, face locked grim. ¡°So we¡¯re staring down some jacked-up super walker?¡± Mallow pressed. ¡°Yeah, way it¡¯s shaping up, that¡¯s the bet,¡± Kevin shot back, eyes hard. Bright side? Kevin¡¯s tricks were built for walkers¡ªWalker Slayer juiced damage against ¡®em by a fat 20%. That¡¯d pull some weight. ¡°Yo!¡± Melk barged in, snagging Kevin by the collar. ¡°Listen up, dumbass. What¡¯re you two yapping about? I missing the party?¡± ¡°Alright, from what we¡¯re clocking, we¡¯re likely facing some seriously screwed walkers soon. And yeah, we¡¯re shitting bricks,¡± Kevin owned up, steady but tense. ¡°I don¡¯t got a damn clue about these walkers, but I¡¯m ready to blast ¡®em to hell,¡± Melk bragged, shrugging like it was nothing. ¡°You chicken, you better haul ass back to your coop.¡± I¡¯m dying to bounce outta this cursed Omnispace trap! Kevin growled low. Kevin and his crew fired up the lab computer, and after some rooting, it spat out an audio diary. (Kevin: ¡°This joint¡¯s twisted as hell. Prisoners scribble diaries, bosses record ¡®em¡ªanybody filming their own ass like Hilton?¡±) ¡°¡­we¡¯re on the verge of a breakthrough. Subject 03 is in the final stages of modification. Our gene weapon, designed to target specific genetic profiles, is nearly complete¡­¡± ¡°¡­the cellular activity exhibits remarkable stability. These black cells appear capable of erasing memories while preserving basic survival instincts. Fascinating¡­¡± ¡°¡­Congress wants to investigate us? Screw that noise!¡± ¡°¡­that bitch Hillianna sold us out. Unforgivable! But I¡¯ll make her bleed. Former First Lady, now Secretary of Defense¡ªshe¡¯s still no match for the political muscle I¡¯ve got. I¡¯ll dig up a new puppet for her spot. Meantime, I¡¯m leaning on Philip to speed this shit up¡­¡± ¡°¡­I¡¯m smelling a rat with Philip. His kid¡¯s caught some weird-ass virus, damn close to the crap we¡¯re cooking here. What¡¯s that bastard hiding?¡­¡± ¡°¡­Philip¡¯s off the rails! He¡¯s scheming to swipe some test serum for his girl. Can¡¯t let that fly. He¡¯s crossed me¡ªhe¡¯ll eat dirt soon enough¡­¡± ¡°¡­I axed Philip and caged him up. Now he can rot 100 yards off, stewing in his own piss, watching us hit the big time from his shitty little cell¡­¡± ¡°¡­Oh, hell no! Philip rigged some virus code before we dumped him! The lab¡¯s gone to shit¡ªtest freaks are loose, chewing on everybody! Son of a¡­ (scream, chomp sounds)¡± Kevin and Mallow clutched their gear tight, a cold jolt slamming ¡®em. Kevin¡¯s brain kicked into overdrive: ¡°Philip? The lab rat? Hold up¡ªGovernor Philip? What are the damn odds!¡± Outta nowhere, Omnispace¡¯s voice cut in: ¡°Warning! Worldhoppers 4444 and 4445, you¡¯ve uncovered the ultimate secret in the world¡¯s plot. Nightmare-level hidden main storyline mission 1¡ªExploration is complete. Moving on to mission 2¡ªSurvival. A five-time mutated Test Subject 03 will drop in soon. Waste it. Note: Due to regulations, the original legendary-level hidden main storyline mission is downgraded to nightmare-level. Test Subject 05 and Test Subject 11 are scrapped. Test Subject 03¡¯s head now has the Vital Point attribute¡ªdouble damage when you hit it. Rewards get slashed accordingly.¡± A bone-shaking crash ripped through the lab as something heavy slammed the deck. Kevin swung to Mallow, voice thick. ¡°Gear up, brother. This is the real shit. If I bite it, don¡¯t let my folks hear how I went down, for God¡¯s sake.¡± Mallow¡¯s face locked in grim steel, matching Kevin¡¯s. ¡°Damn straight, boss. Same here. My mom¡¯d lose it if she knew the screwed-up crap I¡¯ve seen before I cash out.¡± With a quick boot, Melk sent ¡®em both stumbling ahead. ¡°Need meat shields up top¡ªhustle it!¡± he growled. Kevin clocked the hulking shape that¡¯d dropped from the ceiling. It was a giant, nasty-ass walker. Five-time Mutated Walker King: Backstory: Some big-shot nation runs the bioweapon game. They¡¯ve been cooking up gene-killers to waste their rivals. This prison? Secret lab cover. Shit hit the fan, though¡ªapocalypse is just their latest screw-up. Started with a death row brute, big as hell, pumped full of experiments and infections. Five mutations later, he busted out. Took a whole SEAL team to bag him. Now it¡¯s your shot. Weight: 2,000 lbs (Mallow: ¡°Now that¡¯s a fat bastard! Guess I ain¡¯t the chub king here.¡±) Strength: 25 points (Hits the cap Omnispace sets for newbie trials.) Agility: 7 points (Don¡¯t bet on a 2,000-pound meat slab outrunning Bolt.) Stamina: 25 points (Caps out under Omnispace¡¯s newbie trial rules.) Intelligence + Wisdom + Charisma = 3 points (No need to explain this crap.) Skills: 1. Fury Charge: When this beast hauls ass, it slams like a sedan at 60 mph¡ªdamage is 2x its Strength plus whatever ground it covers. 2. Flesh Tear: This fat freak was a meat junkie alive, and death didn¡¯t kill the craving. If it grabs you and rips in, you¡¯re rolling Stamina and Toughness checks. Flunk it, you¡¯re toast¡ªinstant. Pass, you¡¯re still screwed, just limping or bleeding out. 3. Fat Wall: Lab coats couldn¡¯t cut through its blubber with scalpels¡ªhad to bust out chainsaws. That grease slab shrugs off 25% of physical hits, and its slick hide makes 25% of bullets slide right off. 4. Genetic Mutation: This ugly bastard¡¯s blood pumps back at 5 HP a second. Drops below 50%, it¡¯s 10 HP a tick. Near death¡ªunder 10%¡ªit jacks to a sick 30 HP a pop. 5. Giant Physique: Picked this meat slab for its tough-as-hell bones. Freak crash¡ª20,000-pound truck smashed him, just a busted leg. Lab rats sniffed out pure giant blood in his veins, some ancient badass strain. Slaps on 3,000 HP, no joke. 6. Boss Privilege: Nightmare-level boss ain¡¯t playing. Tacks on another 3,000 HP. (Legendary level? Brace for a fat 10,000 HP extra.) 7. ??? (Skill name¡¯s AWOL for now.) ¡°Holy shit!¡± Mallow and Kevin hollered together. ¡°This thing¡¯s a damn freakshow!¡± Mallow¡¯s mug cracked, tears pouring. ¡°We¡¯re screwed to hell,¡± he wailed like a bitch. ¡°Gonna get flattened like bugs¡­¡± Chapter 22: Bloody Battle The sight of this giant, fuckin¡¯ terrifying beast locked ¡®em all dead quiet. This wasn¡¯t no regular punk. ¡°I don¡¯t give a rat¡¯s ass if it¡¯s a monster or a walker,¡± Melk said, cold as steel, hoisting his Bushmaster. ¡°It¡¯s clogging our road, so it¡¯s dead meat!¡± With a boom that¡¯d wake the devil, he blasted the walker¡¯s eye¡ªprime weak spot. The big bastard grabbed its face, howling a roar that¡¯d split your damn skull! This is just one of ¡®em! Kevin¡¯s head spun, gut churning. Omnispace Law¡¯s holding back the other two Walker Kings, and even this one¡¯s dialed down. Now the exits are locked tight, elevator¡¯s toast, and we¡¯re trapped in this shithole lab. If all three of these juiced-up freaks hit us here, we might as well eat our own barrels. Melk, relentless as a pitbull, unloaded a storm of lead from his Bushmaster pistol, shredding the Walker King like it was born to do. The Walker King screamed bloody hell, a sound that¡¯d make your ears bleed. Mallow got jacked, hollering, ¡°Hell yeah, Melk! Let¡¯s pile on!¡± He chugged a vial of ¡°Viagra¡±¡ªAdrenaline Shot¡ªgrinning like a damn fool as it juiced his firepower. Then he snatched his M16 and sprayed a shit-ton of bullets at the Walker King¡¯s head. Lousy aim, but that fat skull at close range? Couldn¡¯t miss if he tried. T-Bone, Guilan, and the other gunners shook off the daze and jumped in, unloading a hail of hot lead¡ªmachine guns, rifles, pistols, the works. The Walker King, pissed and hurting, let loose its Fury Charge! That one-ton meat slab barreled forward, shaking the damn lab like an earthquake. ¡°Everybody, move your ass!¡± Kevin barked, yanking the trigger-happy Mallow outta the line of fire. The crew behind weren¡¯t dumbasses¡ªthey scattered like spooked rats. This Walker King wasn¡¯t no joke, so ducking first was the play. After days of hellish bullshit, none of these survivors were green. Once they spread out, they locked on the Walker King¡¯s bald dome and cut loose another shitstorm of lead. Mallow kept blasting, cocky as hell. Anyway, the bastard¡¯s head was its only soft spot¡ªnail that, drop it. The Walker King, mad as fuck again, ripped a giant metal pole¡ªa 15-foot support beam¡ªstraight outta the damn floor. With its freak strength, it swung that bitch like a bat at the crew. People screamed and bolted, but the poor sap closest didn¡¯t have a prayer. The steel beam smashed his skull¡ªbam!¡ªand then¡­ His head fucking exploded! Just a pale neck stump left, nerves twitching like some sick puppet. ¡°Whoa¡­¡± Mallow puked his guts out. He¡¯d wasted walkers before, but seeing a guy get smashed that clean? First damn time. No torn meat, no bloodbath¡ªjust one swing, like swatting a fly with a sandal. Head gone, like it was nothing. Kevin knew his math was off¡ªway off. He pegged 25 Strength at five regular joes combined, but this bastard swung a 2-ton pole like a damn toothpick. That 25 wasn¡¯t fucking around. The Walker King looked starved as hell. It lumbered over, snatched the headless corpse, and roared like a psycho. Tore it in half like wet paper¡ªguts splashed into its drooling maw. That dumbass ¡°heh-heh¡± laugh now sounded like pure nightmare fuel. Just thinking about tangling up close with this freak later, Kevin¡¯s ass clenched tight. But Melk wasn¡¯t backing down. ¡°Hey, shithead!¡± he bellowed. ¡°He¡¯s chowing down! Can¡¯t let him juice back up! Get your ass up front¡ªdistract that ugly fuck and keep him busy!¡± Kevin swallowed hard. ¡°Damn, even a bottom feeder¡¯s got some dignity! Let¡¯s hit it!¡± While the Walker King was busy munching that corpse like a happy pig, Kevin slipped in close and hacked deep into its calf¡ªslash, slash, slash. He dodged fast, barely ducking a wild swing that¡¯d crush a truck. The floor split like shit under that monster¡¯s power! Kevin wasn¡¯t some punk regular walkers could fuck with anymore. His Agility hit 8 points¡ªfaster than this fat bastard. Feather Boots juiced it 30% more, giving him a damn edge. Plus 30% dagger damage, 10% attack speed, 20% less hurt, and 10% dodge boost¡ªshit piled up, and he felt cocky. He¡¯d take a gamble, long as it wasn¡¯t a death wish. Why the calf, not that bald dome everyone was blasting? Walker King¡¯s HP was a fucking mountain¡ªtoo thick to burn fast. Head shots hit harder, sure, but not enough to flip the fight. Its real soft spot? That slow-ass speed¡ªjust a regular joe¡¯s pace. The space wasn¡¯t some wide-open playground, and that pinned the Walker King¡¯s fat ass down. That giant steel pole? Pure fucking nightmare fuel. Kevin figured if he kept carving its legs¡ªreally fucked one up¡ªit¡¯d crawl slower than a hungover hog. All that HP and armor wouldn¡¯t mean shit if it couldn¡¯t move. Slow bastard¡¯s just a fat target. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Melk caught Kevin¡¯s play and gave a sharp nod. ¡°Everybody, blast its damn head¡ªkeep it pissed!¡± With that, he jumped in. Six feet of grit, Melk moved like a cat¡ªmilitary drills carved into his bones. Walker King roared like a psycho, swinging that steel bitch in a screaming arc at Melk¡¯s ass. Melk rolled clean, ducking the sweep like it was nothing. He lunged fast, blade flashing, and ripped a nasty gash in the Walker King¡¯s calf. The beast howled bloody murder as Melk¡¯s sharp-as-hell edge tore a chunk outta its leg. Walker King¡¯s 25-point defense¡ªjacked from its freak strength and Fat Wall¡ªmade it a damn tank against physical hits. Kevin¡¯s full-on slash earlier barely tickled it. Melk¡¯s cut, though? That showed the gap¡ªmaster versus rookie in knife work. The Walker King slammed its steel pole down again, but Melk dodged tight, rolling behind the bastard. In one slick move, he jammed his blade deep into its calf¡ªcrunch, right to the bone. Kevin heard that sick snap from across the room. Walker King lost its shit. It spun that steel pillar wild, a full fucking circle¡ªno dodging this time! Looked like its seventh skill kicked in! Still close-up dirty work, but built to smash every last asshole in range. (Kevin: ¡°Damn, this fucker won¡¯t choke in a group bang¡­ I mean, fight.¡±) Melk jumped back, but that steel whirlwind tagged him hard. He flew like a damn ragdoll¡ªsmashed into another pole mid-air. Bones cracked loud, blood sprayed from his mug as he hit the deck, out cold. ¡°Melk!¡± Kevin bellowed, voice raw as hell. He charged the Walker King, the bastard panting after its spin. No hesitation¡ªKevin aimed for that fucked-up right calf, slamming his blades in deep with everything he had. As the steel sank in, Kevin felt some weird-ass twist¡ªlike the muscle was fighting back. He flicked a look at the combat log and his gut dropped. ¡°Worldhopper 4444 attacks Walker King¡¯s leg. Due to Walker King¡¯s physical defense bonus and Fat Wall skill, damage cut by 80%. Your attack bonus is 20%, so total damage drops 60%. Dealt 16 points of damage.¡± Kevin roared like a mad bastard, ripped his blades free, smeared ¡®em with Mamba Venom, and jammed ¡®em back into Walker King¡¯s leg with all his damn juice. This time, shit flipped. Walker King bellowed and smashed its steel pole down¡ªbone-busting hard. Kevin rolled out fast, barely ducking the hit. He shot a glance at the combat log, grinning like a psycho: ¡°¡­ Dealt 17 points of physical damage. Mamba Venom applied, dealing 60 points of corrosion damage¡­¡± Walker King laughed off poison, but corrosion? That hit different. Its rotting ass was wide open to that nasty burn. Kevin weaved and dodged, stabbing that fucked-up right calf over and over with his Navy Knife, dripping Mamba Venom. Meanwhile, T-Bone, Guilan, Mallow, and the crew didn¡¯t sit on their asses¡ªbullets rained hell on Walker King¡¯s head and right leg, keeping its ugly mug off Kevin. Walker King got pissed, unleashing that Steel Pillar Whirlwind again¡ªthe same brutal shit that¡¯d flung Melk. Kevin scrambled hard, but the whipping steel tagged his ass, numbing his left arm like it was busted on the spot. He shot a look at the combat log¡ªfuck, that one hit ripped half his HP clean off. ¡°Dammit! That¡¯s some nasty shit!¡± Kevin growled low. But right then, Walker King¡¯s ugly mug swung to the buzzing little bastards on the other side. Fury Charge! A one-ton freak barreled ahead, stomping the ground like a damn quake with that inhuman strength. The gunners bolted in a panic, but one slow asshole didn¡¯t make it. Walker King plowed into him, smashing him into a concrete wall with a wet, sick crunch. Kevin and the crew couldn¡¯t help sucking air¡ªholy hell, that guy was fucked. His body splattered like a bloody rag, red guts smeared up the wall, blood dripping everywhere. The damn concrete even cracked from the hit! Walker King let out a creepy-ass ¡°heh-heh,¡± dipped its fat finger in the gore, and licked it like a sick bastard. That lit a fire under the gunners¡¯ asses. They snatched their pieces and unloaded hell. ¡°We ain¡¯t your damn chow, you freak! D-i-e!¡± Pure gut fear of this unknown shit was driving ¡®em now. But the lead storm just pissed Walker King off more, and it cut loose another Fury Charge. In this tight-ass box¡ª60 feet wide, 100 feet long¡ªthis meat mountain could wreck everything. Mallow, itchy for a shot, held off dodging ¡®til the last damn second, but he was too slow. Fury Charge wasn¡¯t about Walker King¡¯s shitty 7 Agility¡ªit was that freak 25 Strength, making it fast as hell. ¡°NO! Mallow! Get your ass outta there!¡± Kevin hollered, dumping his clip into the bastard, but his rounds bounced like piss against that unstoppable rush. Mallow roared, ¡°I ain¡¯t dying like some punk¡ª!¡± But right then, T-Bone, the big motherfucker, jumped in and slammed Mallow outta the way with all he had. Mallow flew, catching T-Bone¡¯s big, shit-eating grin mid-air. That bastard¡¯s jokes usually had him rolling, but this wasn¡¯t no damn comedy hour. T-Bone ate the full hit, smashing into a table with a hard grunt. He groaned, clawing to get back up. Walker King cackled like a psycho, lurching at the downed T-Bone. Teeth grinding, T-Bone yelled, ¡°You ugly freak, choke on this!¡± and chucked an assault grenade right into Walker King¡¯s gaping maw. The beast chomped it twice like fucking candy¡ªthen BOOM! Grenade popped off. Its mug twisted, beady eyes burning holes into T-Bone, pissed as hell at the asshole who fed it ¡°poison.¡± With a roar that¡¯d wake the dead, Walker King snatched T-Bone up and ripped him clean in half. Mallow¡¯s scream tore through the room as blood and guts splashed the deck. Their buddy, cracking wise ten minutes ago, was gone¡ªfucked up bad. Kevin and Mallow were pissed to fuckin¡¯ death! Chapter 23: Bloodbath Collapse Kevin and Mallow had stacked some one-shot gear. The second Mallow saw T-Bone split, he let out a pissed-off howl and cut loose with his M16, spraying lead like a mad bastard. Kevin hauled ass to Melk, slamming a Hyper Serum into his damn chest. Kevin didn¡¯t know if this rare juice would fix an NPC like Melk¡ªhell, who knew?¡ªbut with bodies dropping like flies, they couldn¡¯t lose the big dog. Melk¡¯s eyes cracked open, wounds knitting up fast. That high-tech Omnispace shit actually worked on NPCs in this fucked-up world. Melk clocked T-Bone¡¯s head, eyes still burning holes at Walker King. The asshole he used to hate was gone¡ªtorn to shit by this meat-chomping freak. Melk¡¯s head was a mess, but one thing was damn clear: that bastard had to die. Melk snarled at Guilan and the crew, ¡°Keep blasting, you sons of bitches!¡± Then he slipped behind a fat steel pole like a damn ghost, ducking outta Walker King¡¯s sight. As Walker King lumbered by, Melk pounced, slamming his blade into its skull and twisting it like a damn butcher. Brain guts shredded inside. Walker King howled like hell and swiped its fat hand at Melk. It reared up for a Flesh Tear, but Melk roared back¡ªhis blade lit up blue as fuck. The steel punched through Walker King¡¯s right hand¡ªboom!¡ªblew it to shit like a grenade. The crew yelled, ¡°Holy crap!¡± Melk hit the deck and rammed his glowing blade deep into Walker King¡¯s right calf. The leg popped off like a damn firecracker¡ªflesh and blood sprayed everywhere, bone shining white through the mess. Kevin¡¯s jaw dropped. That insane hit had to be Melk¡¯s ace¡ªripped Walker King apart like nothing. But that move fucked Melk dry. He landed pale as a ghost, crashing hard, too wiped to even stand. Kevin knew he had to move fast. Walker King¡¯s rage was glued to Melk, and in that wiped-out shape, he¡¯d be toast alone. Kevin hauled ass, closing in to 10 feet from the bastard, and chugged a Stone Skin potion. A hot-ass burn tore through his gut. Ugh, tastes like a damn Spicy McChicken. What, Stone Skin turns you into a burger full of preservatives that won¡¯t rot? Kevin thought, wincing hard. Then his skin lit up with pain¡ªsharp as hell, nearly made him bawl. Lucky it faded quick. His flesh cracked and toughened up. For a second, Kevin freaked¡ªthought he¡¯d grabbed the wrong shit and was about to turn into a statue, fucked way to go out in front of this freak. But Omnispace pinged in, cool as ice: Stone Skin potion worked, physical defense up 30%. Kevin felt like he was rocking stone armor¡ªslow as hell but hard as nails. Teeth clenched, he charged Walker King head-on. The bastard squared up for a Fury Charge, eyes burning holes into the asshole who dared cut it. Kevin launched into the air, landing square on Walker King¡¯s side. His glowing dagger ripped through like a damn thunderbolt, digging deep into the beast¡¯s fucked-up flesh. This time, he zeroed in on the tendon¡ªpure grit driving every slash to cripple this hulking freak. Stone Skin pumping through him, Kevin said fuck it and danced around the eight-foot monster, carving up its right leg like a mad dog. Mallow and the crew weren¡¯t sitting on their asses. They let loose a storm of lead, hammering Walker King¡¯s fat head with no mercy. Hitting the legs was smart as hell, but it risked clipping Kevin in the fray. Unless you were a dead-eye like Guilan, the rest were better off blasting the skull¡ªkeep that bastard distracted so Kevin could rip its legs to shit. Walker King was pissed as hell, swatting at the buzzing little shits like flies. It stomped out with its left foot, but Kevin¡ªquick as a damn cat¡ªdodged clean. He jumped on the chance, ramming his blade deep into Walker King¡¯s right leg, the one propping up its hulking ass. The big bastard lost its grip and crashed hard, shaking the ground like a damn quake. Mallow and the last gunners let out a wild yell¡ªfuck yeah, they¡¯d dropped this freak against all odds! ¡°Weapons up! Let¡¯s end this bastard now!¡± Mallow roared, voice thick with hate. T-Bone¡¯s big heart had hit soft-ass Mallow deep, and that brutal end lit a fire he couldn¡¯t choke down. But Walker King, running on pure damn grit, clawed to haul its ass back up. Kevin¡¯s eyes lit up with steel as he cut loose his big move, Throat Slash, while Walker King was still wobbling. That nasty shit didn¡¯t fuck around¡ªflunk the Toughness check, you¡¯re dead on the spot; pass, and it still rips quadruple damage plus 30 HP bleed. No surprise, Walker King¡¯s tank ass breezed the check¡ªbuilt like a damn brick wall. But it still hurt like hell¡ªblood sprayed from its throat, and it groaned deep and ugly. Its fat hand slapped its neck, trying to plug the mess, but that hulking frame rocked and dropped again with a loud-ass thud. Kevin jumped on its neck with another Throat Slash¡ª10 energy a pop, but he could chain that shit 9 times if he had to. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Walker King couldn¡¯t duck this one¡ªate the full hit. But its cloudy eyes flared wild, and it slammed a massive fist downward with bone-crushing force. Kevin¡¯s skull took the whole damn hit. A crash like a wrecking ball through steel rang in his ears. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he hit the deck, body screaming in pain. The battle log popped up¡ªanother fat-ass hit. No crit, thank fuck, but it still smashed him to low HP, even with his defense buffed to 150%. Kevin hauled his ass up, blood pouring from his nose, dripping red on the floor. His bloodshot eyes burned hot as he charged, cutting loose another Throat Slash. No damn way he¡¯d drop before unloading all 9 of those bastards! Walker King sprawled there, too big to duck shit. Fury and despair flashed in its cloudy eyes as its throat ripped open again. It roared, swinging its fat hand at Kevin, but Kevin danced around the eight-foot meatball and hit back with Throat Slash¡ªbam, one more. Mallow ran to Melk, jammed an Energy Toast into his mouth. It wasn¡¯t shit-hot, but it jolted the knocked-out bastard back awake. Melk clocked Kevin pounding Walker King like a punching bag, a slick smirk creeping up, eyes gleaming hard. He licked his dagger, staring down the roaring freak like death himself. (Mallow: Ugh, that¡¯s nasty as hell! You¡¯ll catch some shit from Walker King¡¯s blood!) Kevin and Melk tore into the helpless Walker King¡ªno mercy. Kevin kept slamming Throat Slash, while Melk hit with Exploding Stab, loving every damn second of the carnage. Walker King, fucked up bad, still roared like a beast. Then¡ªboom¡ªit rolled hard across the floor, ducking both their hits. Kevin¡¯s chest thumped with dread. This meatball still got some shit up its sleeve? Too many had already bled out in this damn mess. Luck¡¯s a bitch, and trouble rolls in packs. The bastard somehow flipped sideways and smashed a fat hole in a glass tank. Weird juice sprayed everywhere, showing off a corpse¡ªkinda human, but not even close. Bat wings, black crispy skin, like it got torched. With a creepy-ass screech, Walker King started chowing down on it! Kevin froze, eyes wide. Seriously? What the hell does this freak eat? Batman¡¯s ass is on the menu now? To their horror, Walker King¡¯s cuts started knitting up slow. Kevin and Mallow locked eyes, pissed as hell. ¡°No fucking way!¡± Mallow barked, voice raw with rage. ¡°This is cheating! It¡¯s healing right in our damn faces!¡± But if Mallow could hear Walker King¡¯s head, it¡¯d be snarling: ¡°Cheating? You little shits cheated first with your fancy potions! Be glad I ain¡¯t reset this whole damn fight yet. Back in my day, one sip of healing juice, and I¡¯d smash the table, kick the game over, and laugh while you cried like bitches. Hahaha!¡± ¡°We can¡¯t let this freak heal up!¡± Kevin yelled. ¡°Open fire!¡± The crew cut loose, blasting the ¡°Batman¡± corpse as Walker King chowed down. The beast roared, chucking the scraps aside. Its fucked-up right leg was half-fixed already, and with a fresh burst of hate, it charged¡ªFury Charge, full tilt! All its agro locked on Kevin, the asshole who dared crash its ¡°medicine break.¡± Kevin dodged by a hair. This fat bastard only snagged two bites of that ¡°Batman¡± meat, and it didn¡¯t just patch him up¡ªit jacked his smarts too! Fury Charge faded, and Walker King moved fast¡ªdamn near slick for an eight-foot meatball. It even jumped up and slammed its giant ass down at Kevin. New skill? Mutation from the corpse? Whatever the hell it was, this trick was fresh. If this 2,000-pound bastard landed on Kevin, even if he didn¡¯t croak, he¡¯d be stuck under its fat ass, begging for mercy. Only way out¡¯d be after it shits you out. But Kevin got snagged by the freak¡¯s wild jump. No fucking way¡ªthis ass-slam froze him dead in its grip. His heart pounded like a jackhammer, jaw clamped so hard his teeth damn near cracked, but his legs wouldn¡¯t budge! ¡°It¡¯s over¡­¡± Kevin croaked, voice shot with dread. ¡°Mom, Dad¡ª¡± Then a hard shove knocked him sideways. A pissed-off yell¡ªthick with Spanish fire¡ªripped through. ¡°Get your ass outta there¡ª¡± Guilan! The dead-eye bastard dove in at the last second, shoving Kevin clear as Walker King came down like a damn bomb. The crash rocked even that hulking freak back, its ugly laugh booming loud. But under that sick cackle, shit got real¡ªGuilan¡¯s guts and bones mashed into a bloody pile, all that was left of the guy! ¡°SON OF A BITCH!¡± Kevin choked out, tears burning his eyes. One thought smashed through his head: KILL this bastard or DIE¡ªno other damn way! Omnispace hit hard right then¡ªsurvival, raw as fuck. One second, a guy¡¯s alive¡ªlaughing, hurting, dreaming big. Next, gone, just cold-ass silence. No coming back. This ain¡¯t no damn MMO with respawns and full HP. Here, dead is dead¡ªmeat slab or monster chow. T-Bone, Guilan, half the crew¡ªwiped out by this eight-foot meatball¡¯s rampage. This fucker¡¯s gotta die! Kevin charged, blind with rage, and jammed his combat knife deep into Walker King¡¯s right leg. Fury drove it through flesh and bone ¡®til it stuck. Walker King howled, letting out a roar that¡¯d bust eardrums, and wrapped a giant hand around Kevin, squeezing with bone-crushing grip. ¡°Don¡¯t you touch my brother!¡± Mallow screamed, rushing in with a shovel cocked high. He smashed it into Walker King¡¯s arm with a loud-ass thud. Kevin yanked free, Mallow¡¯s fear flipping to pure hate, swinging that shovel like a damn maniac, every hit for the dead. Melk stormed in, his explosive blade ripping into the freak¡¯s fucked-up leg. The last gunners rallied, unloading a storm of lead at Walker King¡¯s head, desperate to drop this bastard. But this eight-foot meatball was too damn tough. *** Three brutal minutes later, Kevin was beat to shit, barely alive. Mallow hung on by a thread. Melk got it worst¡ªflung into the iron gate like a ragdoll, face a bloody wreck, out cold, maybe done for. The last gunners didn¡¯t stand a chance against Walker King¡¯s freak strength. Some got smashed to pulp, others blown apart in one hit, a few swallowed whole. None made it. Ten crazy bastards took on this nightmare-level hidden main mission. Seven down, three hanging by a damn thread. Their crew¡ªonce loud and kickin¡¯¡ªgot smashed to fuckin¡¯ nothing in minutes. Chapter 24: A Lone Sheep ¡°Mallow, you still fuckin¡¯ alive?¡± Kevin croaked, Walker King¡¯s ugly laugh, chomping, and the dying groans ringing in his ears. The beast was at it again, scarfing down fresh meat to juice up. Kevin sucked air, a busted bone stabbing his lung, blood spraying with every hard cough. ¡°Yeah, boss, barely kicking,¡± Mallow hacked back, voice thin. ¡°We¡¯re tough as hell to kill¡­ Just a shame we couldn¡¯t gut that damn pig¡­¡± Right then, Kevin and Mallow got an Omnispace ping: ¡°Worldhopper 4444 and 4445, your combined damage to the 6-mutation Walker King has surpassed 40% of its total HP. Due to the extreme mission difficulty, the emergency escape elevator is now active. Reminder: Escaping will result in mission failure and no rewards. Also, since you¡¯ve dealt 40% combined damage to Walker King, the disinfection option is now available. Press the red button on the right-hand wall to disinfect the lab with high-temperature flames immediately. The flames from pure alcohol and oxygen will deal 300 HP/second. You can choose one person to perish with it. The reward will be issued based on the minimum for completing the mission.¡± ¡°Looks like that fat pig mutated again after chewing on Batman, huh? No way a 2,000-pound bastard jumps that high otherwise,¡± Mallow coughed, blood splattering his chin. ¡°Boss, let¡¯s get outta here. Loot ain¡¯t worth this mess.¡± Kevin¡¯s eyes locked on the Omnispace notice, brain running hot. He shot a look at Mallow. ¡°Hand over that Sheep Potion and every healing item you¡¯ve got. Grab Melk and get out now. He¡¯s out cold by the gate. Keep it quiet¡ªdon¡¯t draw that damn pig over.¡± Mallow yelled, ¡°If we¡¯re going down, it¡¯s together, man! I ain¡¯t the type to bail on my brother and save my own ass!¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got a plan to drop that bastard and end this mission! I ain¡¯t dying!¡± Kevin roared back. ¡°T-Bone, Guilan, all of ¡®em¡ªdid they die for nothing?!¡± Mallow froze a second, then tossed over the potions and started crawling to the door, grunting hard. ¡°Bro, don¡¯t overdo it. Whatever you say, I¡¯m in.¡± Kevin jammed a Hyper Serum in, juice kicking his health and energy back fast. He jumped up, feeling like a damn live wire. Walker King spotted a damn live snack still kicking, growling low and mean as it charged, swinging its big-ass metal club high. Mallow crawled hard with every bit of strength, scraping along as fast as he could. Walker King didn¡¯t even flick an eye his way. Mallow hit the door, dragging Melk into the elevator with his last grunt. The doors banged shut, cutting ¡®em off from the shitstorm just in time. Kevin¡¯s heart pounded as he faced down the charging Walker King. With a quick sidestep, he dodged the bastard¡¯s swing. His eyes snapped to a red button on the wall¡ªthe self-destruct switch. Omnispace¡¯s backup for crazy Worldhoppers about to get chewed up¡ªor for the brave ones ready to cash out big by taking the hit. Walker King lumbered closer, jaws dripping blood and meat chunks. A cold-ass grin split Kevin¡¯s face. In one clean move, he smashed his fist on the red button, kicking off a shrill alarm. ¡°Alert! Alert! Highest-level biochemical leak detected in the lab! Emergency protocol commencing! Evacuate to the elevator immediately! Ten, nine, eight, seven¡­¡± Kevin chugged the Sheep Potion, that nasty wool taste clogging his mouth. Didn¡¯t matter now. His body shrank and twisted weird, soft white fur popping out all over. Before he could blink, Walker King swung its 2-ton, 15-foot metal club, knocking Kevin flat. Head split with pain, stars flashing hard¡­ But that was it. A faint magic shield flickered ¡®round him, soaking the hit. Just 1 HP down. Kevin had 90 HP total¡ª90 hits to tank as a sheep. Human him? Two swings and he¡¯d be toast. Now a fluffy bastard, Kevin pranced around, bleating and hopping like a damn fool. Sheep Potion¡¯s aggro trick worked sweet¡ªWalker King ditched its run and chased the cute little shit, swinging and laughing like a kid with a toy. Finally, the countdown hit zero. With a hiss, metal nozzles popped out from the ceiling, blasting pure alcohol and oxygen everywhere. A spark lit it up, and bam¡ªthe tight metal box turned into a roaring fire pit. Kevin got swallowed by the flames, his wool catching fast. Didn¡¯t give a damn now. Walker King next to him was screaming like a stuck pig. To ashes I¡¯d fry, just to fuck you up, you die! The fire tore shit up at 300 HP a damn second. Walker King, six mutations deep, had about 7,000 HP¡ª24 seconds tops in this blaze. Omnispace wasn¡¯t playing¡ªfire¡¯d burn 3 whole minutes to stop cheap Worldhopper tricks. Kevin knew even ¡°Fire Wizard¡± or ¡°Fire Elemental¡± perks couldn¡¯t tank 180 seconds of that heat. Now a full-on Alpine sheep, Kevin watched the battle log tick with big, dopey sheep eyes: ¡°Worldhopper 4444, you took 300 points of fire damage. Due to the Sheep Potion effect, you have received 1 point of damage.¡± ¡°¡­1 point of damage¡­¡± Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°¡­1 point of damage¡­¡± ¡­ Kevin let out a chill baa. With 90 HP, he could tank the fire for 90 seconds. Good thing he had two Hyper Serums left¡ªhigh-end gear, 2,000 survival points and 1 skill point a pop, made to keep his ass alive in a scrap. *** Inside the elevator, Mallow¡¯s eyes welled up. The heat from the blaze baked the walls, screaming how bad it was out there. Melk came to, voice rough. ¡°That dumbass still out there?¡± Mallow sniffed hard. ¡°He told me to haul you out first. Said he¡¯s got a plan to drop Walker King¡­¡± Melk gave a slow nod, mind drifting. ¡°He¡¯s one hell of a guy.¡± *** When the fire finally burned out, Mallow and Melk stepped out to a fat, crispy Alpine sheep flopped by the elevator door. Its charred skin smelled like damn good barbecue. The thing could barely suck air. Starving after the scrap, Mallow pulled out salt, pepper, and skewers. Melk grinned wicked, licking his knife, ready to carve some lamb¡­ Lucky break¡ªKevin morphed back human at the last second, dodging the ¡°man-eats-sheep¡± mess. He¡¯d popped his last Hyper Serum five seconds back, pulling outta the Sheep Potion¡¯s near-dead drop, back in solid shape. He stood, hawked a fat wad of spit at Walker King¡¯s charred corpse. ¡°Dude, it¡¯s you!¡± Mallow hollered, eyes wide. Melk flashed a big-ass grin, teeth out. ¡°Knew you wouldn¡¯t go down easy, ya goof.¡± Kevin was a fuckin¡¯ unkillable bastard. He¡¯d blown all his points pre-fight on one-shot meds and potions¡ªwithout ¡®em, he¡¯d be toast ten times over against this freak beast. The Omnispace system pinged: ¡°Worldhopper 4444, your team has completed the nightmare-level hidden main storyline mission 2¡ªSurvival. You have revealed critical insights into the century-long disaster. Your Plot Deviation Rate has increased by 18%, now at 25.6%. This metric will be evaluated for rewards upon conclusion of the story world. Evidence suggests Governor Philip may be the origin of this catastrophe. Continue your investigation to expose additional concealed narratives. Due to reliance on Omnispace-provided mechanisms to neutralize the six-time-mutated Walker King, your mission rating is designated ¡®Minimum,¡¯ with no supplementary bonus¡ª0%. Reward computation initiated¡­ Given the exceptional variables involved, finalization of calculations will require additional time¡­ Your team inflicted 40% of the six-time-mutated Walker King¡¯s total HP. Survival points, skill points, and attribute points will reflect 40% of baseline values. Processing¡­ Baseline rewards for the six-time-mutated Walker King: 8,000 survival points, 8 skill points, 8 attribute points. Bonus structure: Mission Completion 100% + Newcomer Trial 50% + Difficulty 50% = 200%. Final allocation restricted to 40% of the aggregate, resulting in 80%. Reward pool established¡­ You are granted 6,400 survival points, 7 skill points, and 7 attribute points. For eliminating the six-time-mutated Walker King, you receive an additional 1,000 walker kill points. Worldhopper 4444¡¯s gold-tier title, Walker Slayer, has surpassed its 2,000-point threshold, advancing to the platinum-tier title Walker Reaper, currently at 2,712/5,000, enhancing walker damage by 30%. By resolving this world¡¯s degraded legendary hidden main storyline mission, you have obtained 1 World Prestige Point. This mission is no longer repeatable. World Prestige Point: Confers influence over significant entities across plot dimensions, amplifying their authority and capacity to alter events. Further advantages accrue from storyline missions, with elevated access to data. Equipment allocation forthcoming¡ªhighest tier purple, lowest tier green, calibrated to nightmare-level difficulty. A minimal probability exists for orange-tier equipment. Equipment pool initializing¡­ Based on your 40% contribution, you are authorized two draws.¡± A shiny portal ripped open in front of Kevin and Mallow, spitting out wild, flashing lights¡ªgreen, blue, purple, even a hint of orange. Looked like a rainbow blew up, sucking you right in. Mallow¡¯s voice cracked with hype. ¡°Boss, we struck gold! You dive in first.¡± ¡°Nah, you take it,¡± Kevin said, stepping back. ¡°Scope the loot first.¡± Mallow didn¡¯t blink¡ªjammed his hand straight into the glow, hollering, ¡°First grab, let¡¯s snag this pot¡¯s tab!¡± He rummaged around, then let out a loud-ass ¡°Hell yeah, nabbed something good!¡± Kevin¡¯s blood was pumping. This kid¡¯s got balls, no question. Time to see if his luck¡¯s legit. Mallow hauled his prize out with a grunt. Fog clung to it at first, but it cleared slow, showing off a soft, light armor vest. Spiky Leather Armor: Grade: Upgradeable light blue equipment. Level: 1 Weight: 2 lbs Equip: Stamina +3, HP recovery speed +50% Skill: Spiky Needles¡ªReflects 50% of melee damage back at the attacker when equipped. Description: This armor was a legendary pirate captain¡¯s pride, skinned from a nightmare sea beast dragged up from the ocean¡¯s blackest pits. It¡¯s got a hidden stat that soaks up damage and grows stronger with upgrades. Perfect for anyone who wants to keep breathing. Feels like regular gear¡ªslap it on, you won¡¯t even notice it¡¯s there. Mallow¡¯s jaw damn near hit the dirt, nearly bouncing off the ground from the shock. Kevin couldn¡¯t wipe the grin off his face either. Light blue gear? Never seen that shit before. Three killer stats, upgradeable, blocks hits, and throws melee damage back in their faces. This armor was straight-up insane! Mallow was built for this thing. His Metabolism Rush already juiced his health regen by 25%, and with this armor, it¡¯d hit 75%. Guy¡¯d heal like a damn freak in a fight¡ªnear unkillable. Kevin gave a nod, and Mallow slapped on the Spiky Leather Armor fast. The sneaky bastard even kept his jacket over it. Anyone dumb enough to jump him from behind was in for a hell of a surprise. But if Mallow ever caught Kevin sizing him up as a long-haul meat shield with that regen, shit¡¯d get real awkward. Chapter 25: A Stone Now Kevin¡¯s turn¡ªtalk about a tight spot. He¡¯d dumped everything into this draw, and pulling a dud would suck hard. He jammed his hand into the portal, and it felt off¡ªmuffled, thick. Like shoving your fist into a hazy-ass cave or some weird crap. His fingers grazed something¡ªsword maybe? Adrenaline kicked in as he lunged, but it slipped right outta his grip. Shit. Back to groping blind. Then he hit something solid¡ªround, hard to pin down in the murk. He just wanted to yank it close and see what the hell it was. Omnispace cut in: ¡°Draw concluded. Rewards allocated.¡± ¡°What the hell is this?! I just wanted a look!¡± Kevin snarled. A rock? What am I gonna do, chuck it at some asshole¡¯s head? The portal blinked out like a shady street hustler¡ªtakes your cash, drops some knock-off junk, then splits. Kevin muttered a curse. He¡¯d bet it all and got stuck with a damn rock. Raw-ass deal. Mallow, nosy as ever, craned from behind. ¡°Yo, boss, let me peep that rock.¡± It was a creepy-ass bastard¡ªround as fuck, black as midnight. Toss it in a coal heap, and it¡¯d vanish like a ghost. Kevin, pissed and done, flicked it over his shoulder without a glance. ¡°Whoa, hold up!¡± Mallow hollered. ¡°Boss, that ain¡¯t no regular rock!¡± ¡°Yeah, no shit,¡± Kevin grumbled. ¡°What, it sings? I¡¯ll start a damn circus then!¡± ¡°Nah, it¡¯s floating!¡± the chubby little bastard yelled. Kevin snapped his head around. Sure as hell, there it was¡ªhovering midair right in his face. Weightless. As he stared, faint glowing words started carving themselves around it, like some magic scribble shit. Eternal Soulstone: Grade: Unknown Wonder (65%); Unique Item in Omnispace. Nature: Eternal Soul Sanctuary. The souls of warriors under Odin¡¯s divine protection can be permanently stored in this stone, preventing their dissolution. Origin: Any Earth-based storyline dimension where Norse gods may exist. Materials: ¡°Grip of the Allfather¡±¡ªthe first armrest stone from Odin¡¯s throne. Equipment Slot: Any inventory slot; requires soulbinding. Description: A dense, pitch-black stone levitates effortlessly, nearly weightless to the touch. A divine strike has fractured it two-thirds from its core, leaving unmelting frost across its surface. Its inscriptions remain partially obscured. Backstory: Valkyries, Odin¡¯s daughters, known as ¡°battle maidens,¡± number twelve in total. Each is charged with escorting the souls of fallen warriors to the Norse divine realm. Odin, favoring the souls of the bold and fearless, forged twelve Eternal Soulstones and entrusted them to his Valkyries. This fragment belongs to Brynhild, his eldest and most cherished daughter¡ªa chief goddess of guidance and formidable shieldmaiden. For eons, Odin¡¯s right hand rested upon this armrest stone, imbuing it with near-infinite divine energy. Brynhild wielded this revered artifact to shepherd countless valiant souls into Valhalla, the hall of heroes in Asgard. In the cataclysm of Ragnarok, the twilight of the gods, Brynhild stood as Asgard¡¯s defender under Odin¡¯s command. She clashed with Hrym, commander of the Frost Giant army¡ªa warrior nearly equal to Odin in might¡ªand emerged victorious. Yet triumph bore a grave cost: Brynhild fell to her wounds, entering eternal slumber. The Eternal Soulstone, embedded upon her chest, shattered under Hrym¡¯s final strike, its fragments dispersing across the mortal realm. Details: This shard bears inscriptions of the Requiem Song, a chant for guiding warriors¡¯ souls: Mortals of Earth, hear the call, You never knew the gods at all. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. The sky, a canvas, wide and bright, Clouds our pillows, dreams take flight. The ocean¡¯s waves, our joyful play, Earth our stage, where we hold sway. Icebergs break when we command, Thunder and storms at our hand. The World Tree stands, so proud and high, Gladsheim¡¯s halls beneath the sky. Asgard¡¯s flame, our rightful throne, Where gods rule free, all on our own. Giants, our foes, in endless fight, Humans below, their fleeting light. Helheim¡¯s gates, a dark embrace, Where lost souls find their resting place. Odin¡¯s chosen, hearts aflame, To Valhalla rise, eternal fame. Warriors bold, in glory rise, Their stories sung beneath the skies. Fight for the heavens, realms above, Write your saga, claim your love. (Due to damage, the inscription below is lost.) Unique Skill in Omnispace: Odin¡¯s Summon. By expending the requisite Soul Crystals, the user may summon potent Warrior¡¯s Souls from the Eternal Soulstone to engage in combat on their behalf for a limited duration via Odin¡¯s Summon. The potency of these Warrior¡¯s Souls may vary according to the storyline world¡¯s difficulty. Their presence in the plot world persists for (Summoner¡¯s Intelligence + Wisdom + Charisma) ¡Á 10 seconds. With mastery of appropriate skills, the Warrior¡¯s Souls may be enhanced by the Summoner¡¯s attributes and abilities. Collection of Warrior¡¯s Souls: Warrior¡¯s Souls may originate from any plot characters or creatures, including Worldhoppers. To acquire plot characters, specific conditions must be fulfilled: 1. High favor and compatibility: Should a plot character¡¯s favor rating exceed 80 and compatibility surpass 90, they may elect to become a Warrior¡¯s Soul, guarding you eternally¡ªprovided their death was not caused by you, directly or indirectly. 2. Defeating hostile characters: For an antagonistic plot character, inflicting at least 80% of their total damage offers a chance for their Warrior¡¯s Soul to acknowledge your valor. Upon paying a cost, you may subdue them, securing their eternal service as a Warrior¡¯s Soul. 3. Worldhopper sacrifice: Should a Worldhopper perish, they may opt to become a Warrior¡¯s Soul¡ªcontingent on their consent. Once chosen, this status is irrevocable, barring resurrection in Omnispace via any means. They will possess full awareness of this consequence, rendering deception or coercion ineffective. Note 1: This item is damaged, significantly restricting the collection and summoning of Warrior¡¯s Souls. Should additional shards be recovered, they may be fused to restore it. Full restoration could reawaken its divine power, unlock advanced skills, reduce Warrior¡¯s Soul collection thresholds, amplify summoning effects, or elevate it to a true divine artifact from Valkyrie Brynhild¡¯s era. Relevant information may be uncovered in any Earth plot dimension featuring Norse gods or giants. Note 2: This item demands soulbinding for activation. Once bound, it cannot be traded or dropped. Upon the owner¡¯s death, Omnispace will reclaim it. While bound, it remains undetectable by any detection skills. Additional Note: The sole reason this item emerged from a six-time-mutated Walker King is its faint lineage tracing back to ancient giants. After the Eternal Soulstone shattered under Hrym¡¯s strike, an ancient giant retrieved and ingested a shard. It lay dormant within the giant¡¯s soul, transmitted through generations of its bloodline, until you vanquished its last distant descendant. *** ¡°Whoa, that Walker King¡¯s got giant blood in it?¡± Mallow muttered, eyes wide. ¡°No wonder it heals faster the more it¡¯s messed up, and chows down on folks to juice back up¡­ Man, this description¡¯s long as hell. Pretty badass, right?¡± Kevin, voice half-dead, shot back, ¡°Mallow, real talk¡ªsay you¡¯re stuck in a desert, dying of thirst and starving, and you¡¯ve got two crates: one¡¯s food and water, one¡¯s gold. Which you picking?¡± ¡°Food and water, no brainer. Gotta keep kicking, yeah?¡± ¡°Damn right, staying alive¡¯s the game. So here I am with this thing¡ªsome Valkyrie-soul-artifact mashup that might turn into a crazy-ass weapon. Sounds dope as hell. But here¡¯s the kick: we don¡¯t know shit about Soul Crystals, got zero Warrior¡¯s Souls. Where do we even dig these up? How do we work this thing? We¡¯re clueless as hell. Is this even worth a damn for staying alive?¡± Kevin sighed hard and kept going, ¡°We¡¯ve blown every damn thing. Ten grand in survival points, all our team stash, and a fat pile of skill points. The payout barely covers the mess.¡± Mallow¡¯s voice broke rough. ¡°T-Bone¡¯s toast, and we lost damn near all our crew.¡± Kevin slapped Mallow¡¯s back. ¡°Let¡¯s bail this hellhole. Gotta link up with Rikk and the rest.¡± Zone C squad got smashed flat. They were done¡ªmission¡¯s a lost cause. Pulling out was all they had left. Whole deal was a damn disaster. Kevin and Mallow didn¡¯t give a shit anymore. Screw the mission¡ªeveryone¡¯s dead anyway. All they wanted was to hit the sack and sleep this crap off. Five days in, and tonight, the walkers were set to mutate again¡ªthird round. Might even be a full-on walker siege. Why¡¯s staying alive gotta be so fuckin¡¯ savage? Kevin roared in his head. Chapter 26: The Annoying Bug Around 3:30 p.m., Kevin, Mallow, and Melk dragged their asses back to the Zone D camp. Clothes torn to hell, faces caked with blood, spirits deader than a walker¡¯s. Rikk, fresh from cleaning Zone A, was already there, eyeballing ¡®em. Doc, Sharn, and the greenhorns looked fine¡ªno real damage. Razor Hawk clocked their sorry-ass state and let out a loud whistle, grinning like a jackass. He spun to a scrawny punk next to him and barked, ¡°Yo, Bigfoot, wanna hear how I tore up Zone A today?¡± Bigfoot, ass-kisser supreme, jumped in, ¡°Big bro, you¡¯re a fuckin¡¯ legend! Ain¡¯t nobody close. Fixed that busted generator, smashed those five snitch bastards who screwed us, and jacked a shit-ton of food, meds, and water off ¡®em. Storage¡¯s bursting now¡ªteam points through the damn roof! Haha! When we cash in for loot, can I grab some of your gear cheap, big bro?¡± Razor Hawk laughed his ass off, smacking Bigfoot¡¯s back, playing the big shot. ¡°You punks know I always hook you up! Been eyeing Sharn¡¯s badass Springfield pistol forever¡ªgonna snag that shit soon.¡± Those cocky newbies were puffed up, strutting like kings. Look at Kevin and Mallow¡ªbloody wrecks¡ªand Melk, the last plot character standing. Zone C must¡¯ve been a damn meat grinder. Mission¡¯s toast for sure. Truth is, Kevin bitched to Mallow about losing everything¡ªpoints, team stash, the works¡ªbut deep down, he had a hunch this rock he nabbed might be worth more than all that crap they burned. That one skill¡ªOdin¡¯s Summon¡ªalone made it a steal. Picture it: mid-fight, some ancient demigod warrior pops up behind you. Game changer, right? Too bad it¡¯s useless as hell right now. Meanwhile, Rikk and Melk swapped updates, hearing how T-Bone, Guilan, and the rest bought it. Hit ¡®em like a truck. Kevin and Mallow couldn¡¯t shake the gloom, staring at the Omnispace notice about Zone C¡¯s botched mission. Total setup. Who¡¯d have guessed they¡¯d stumble into that nightmare hidden mission? They barely crawled out alive. Rikk dropped a hand on their shoulders, saying it wasn¡¯t their fault. Kevin kept eyeballing Melk, hoping he¡¯d spill some dirt on the apocalypse and Philip¡¯s hand in it, but Melk clammed up tight. Felt like Omnispace was yanking the chains. Even when plot characters tripped over hidden shit, they¡¯d rather choke on it than talk, keeping the story from flipping too hard. Plot stuck to the main track¡ªlittle wobbles, sure, but it always swung back in line. Rikk waved ¡®em off to crash, and Kevin and Mallow hauled ass to rest. Mallow, beat to hell, flopped on his cot and passed out cold. *** Kevin, though, nabbed the Eternal Soulstone. Gut was screaming this thing¡¯d flip his whole life. The black stone hovered, sucking up every scrap of light, throwing an ink-black shadow all around it. An Omnispace prompt popped: ¡°Worldhopper 4444, the Eternal Soulstone requires soul binding before use. Do you wish to bind it to your soul now?¡± Kevin didn¡¯t blink¡ª¡°Yes.¡± Like it heard him, the floating stone started spinning slow. The carved symbols lit up one by one, glowing soft gold. Next to that shine, every other color looked like cheap trash. The golden light pulsed with a godlike vibe¡ªpower, weight, warmth¡ªshit no human could shrug off. You¡¯d wanna drop to your knees, handing over all your respect and trust. This has gotta be a real Odin stone! Kevin thought, jaw half-open. A rock touched by a god for ages packing this kinda juice? If the god himself showed up, how¡¯s a regular guy supposed to stand that kinda heat? A woman¡¯s voice cut through his head: ¡°Who has awakened this sacred stone?¡± Clear as a song, but cold as hell¡ªpure power, no bending. This¡­ Valkyrie Brynhild? Kevin¡¯s brain spun with wild and ridiculous thoughts after catching that frosty tone. She¡¯s supposed to be out cold forever, so how¡¯s she stuck in this rock? ¡°Mortal, how dare you speak my name so carelessly and consider harming a divine creation?¡± The voice rose, icy and sharp, firing a mental blast that smashed Kevin¡¯s skull. It scrambled his thoughts into a wreck, pain tearing him apart. ¡°Aaaaahhh¡­¡± Blood gushed from his nose, ears, mouth. He hit the dirt hard, strength gone, barely hanging on. ¡°This is your sole reprieve,¡± the voice fell, hard and final. ¡°Dare to think another disrespectful thought, even bound to this Eternal Soulstone, and I will erase your soul in an instant!¡± Kevin shook his head hard, blood spraying everywhere, fighting to ditch the wild dreams her voice stirred up in his busted mind. These daydreams included¡ªwell, not just¡ªstuff like: goddess, long legs, nylons, training, dual cultivation (and a bunch more that¡¯d make you blush¡­ but let¡¯s skip that mess). Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°Mortal, you have awakened my spirit. Do you have any wish to express?¡± The voice held its regal chill, steady as hell despite the cold edge. ¡°Well¡­¡± Kevin¡¯s brain raced, scrambling for words. Could he shove this on Omnispace? He didn¡¯t even know what Omnispace really was. ¡°Uh¡­ Miss, are you some kinda war goddess?¡± ¡°Has Ragnarok come to pass? Did the realm of Asgard fall? I no longer sense Allfather Odin¡¯s presence¡­¡± The goddess¡¯s voice shook with a flicker of sorrow. Kevin went straight: ¡°Goddess, looks like the giants are gone too. No real winner¡ªboth sides got wiped out.¡± Silence hung heavy. Just as Kevin started freaking out, the goddess spoke again: ¡°I see. You seek the power of Odin¡¯s Summon, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Kevin said, doubts creeping up. Made sense the thing was Omnispace¡¯s, some top-dog power. But then why¡¯s Valkyrie Brynhild stuck inside? Omnispace hadn¡¯t said shit, like it didn¡¯t even know what was up. ¡°The higher power has spoken to me. Its strength nears my father Odin¡¯s peak, yet it lacks divinity. I have accepted its terms. You may wield the sacred Eternal Soulstone, but you will answer my call whenever I demand it!¡± The goddess¡¯s voice stayed cold as hell, a rose wrapped in ice¡ªpretty but untouchable. ¡°Then can I ask a couple things before I sign up?¡± Kevin pushed, smelling a shot to haggle. ¡°Speak fast,¡± the goddess snapped, her patience running low. ¡°What¡¯s in it for me if I serve you?¡± Kevin threw out, a little guts in his tone. ¡°What?!¡± The goddess sounded like a cat that just got its tail stepped on, pure shock in her voice. ¡°Mortal! Do you even grasp how many ancient demigod warriors would¡¯ve killed for a chance to serve the great Valkyrie? And you dare¡ª¡± ¡°Then forget it,¡± Kevin shrugged, a smirk curling his lips. ¡°Gods always dump the dangerous crap on mortals. I¡¯m just a guy, and honestly, I don¡¯t buy into gods anymore. When you big shots slug it out, us little folks get smashed in the mess. Valkyrie or goddess, whatever¡ªI ain¡¯t here for deals that don¡¯t pay off. Nice talkin¡¯.¡± He stood up, ready to bounce. ¡°You¡­ you don¡¯t even know what Odin¡¯s Summon can do! Demigod warriors, even minor gods, fighting at your side!¡± The goddess sputtered, nearly choking on her outrage. To her, this was a mortal¡¯s wet dream, and this punk was spitting on it like it was nothing. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t need a history lesson,¡± Kevin said, arms crossed. ¡°I don¡¯t know how strong this thing is, and I don¡¯t care¡ªI might not even make it to tomorrow. What happens after I¡¯m dead ain¡¯t my problem.¡± The goddess went quiet, and after a long pause, her icy voice cut back in. ¡°Very well, mortal. I see your situation. You couldn¡¯t take down even a lowly Asgardian servant. I¡¯m stunned you obtained this powerful stone at all. Still, I¡¯ll grant you full fusion with the Eternal Soulstone¡ªnot just soul-binding. In exchange, you must swear loyalty to the gods and me.¡± Kevin parroted her like a smartass, ¡°I swear¡­¡± then flashed a sly grin, eyes glinting. ¡°But can I ask one more thing?¡± ¡°What?!¡± The Valkyrie snapped, her cool cracking hard. She¡¯d spent millennia as a Valkyrie, shieldmaiden, and top-tier goddess in the Norse crew, second only to Odin himself. Her power was off the charts, her name a true legend in the divine realm. Used to the straight-up respect of hardcore Norse warriors, this yapping little pest of a mortal was something else¡ªdriving her nuts in a way she¡¯d never felt before. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­¡± Kevin scratched his head, playing sheepish, ¡°Could I borrow a couple divine artifacts for a bit?¡± ¡°Get lost!¡± The Valkyrie hit her limit with this shameless punk. Her icy front shattered as she barked, ¡°You tiny pest! One look at a divine artifact would burn you to ash!¡± ¡°Fine, if you ain¡¯t got any, just say it. What¡¯s the big deal? You¡¯re supposed to be a badass goddess, right?¡± Kevin muttered, pulling an old-school knight act, like he couldn¡¯t clap back at a lady. The Valkyrie was this close to losing it. With a pissed-off huff, she turned to storm off. ¡°Hey, hold up!¡± Kevin¡¯s voice buzzed after her like a damn fly that wouldn¡¯t quit. ¡°Talk,¡± the Valkyrie shot back, barely giving him a second. She was straight-up praying this mortal would just keel over already. ¡°Wait a sec¡ªare you even a real woman? Thousands of years old, still a ¡®warrior maiden¡¯? Ever wonder why you¡¯re solo? Maybe try some online dating¡ªAaaaaaaargh!¡± The scream ripped through the prison, blasting out into the open sky. Even the walkers froze mid-shuffle, their dead eyes swinging toward the noise, rotting brains trying to figure out what kinda screwed-up mess could make a guy yell like that. The prison cell lit up like a spotlight as the divine stone spun fast as hell. A giant beam of godly light locked onto Kevin, and the stone turned into golden runes that shot straight into his body. Blood dripped down Kevin¡¯s face, a souvenir from the goddess¡¯s pissed-off smackdown. But he didn¡¯t give a crap. He was too busy soaking in the high of sucking up that divine stone. He checked himself out, hunting for any boost in stats or skills, but came up dry. The blood-red Spatial Sigil on him got a fancy upgrade¡ªnow rocking a shiny gold trim, matching the stone¡¯s runes. Looked like a red stamp with a gold edge, leaking raw power and some kingly vibe. The real kicker from eating the divine stone: summoning warrior souls got dirt cheap. No more messing with those Soul Crystals he used to need. Turns out, the Valkyrie¡ªstill fuming¡ªsaid Soul Crystals were just the leftovers of dead stuff. Strong souls even turned into crystals after they bit it. Soul Crystals came in grades¡ªbroken, small, medium, large, epic, rare, even divine. In Omnispace, they were the big-time cash. When the ¡°rich hottie¡± Valkyrie clocked how broke-ass Kevin was, she went dead quiet, too stunned to even yap. What kinda chump didn¡¯t know jack about Soul Crystals, let alone own one? Since Kevin was flat-out busted, the Valkyrie had no choice. She figured she could tap some leftover divine juice in the stone to cut the summoning cost. Screw those fancy Soul Crystals¡ªKevin could use survival points instead. To call up a warrior soul in the story world, Kevin had to cough up 10,000 survival points and 2 skill points each time. Plus, he¡¯d be stuck waiting 7 damn days before he could do it again. The catch? The warrior soul¡¯d come in weaker than normal. Still, ditching Soul Crystals made the divine stone way cheaper for his broke ass, even if it was still a hell of a price. Right as Kevin opened his mouth to haggle, the goddess let out a cold huff and shut it down. She was done with this clown. One more second of his crap, and she¡¯d lose it¡ªmaybe drop a Colossal Fist, level 99, and smash this annoying bug flat. Chapter 27: Flip the Script ¡°¡­ ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡° What if Marissa was the Governor¡¯s plant? What if the snitch had already sold ¡®em out, and they were strolling right into a trap? ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Seriously, sis? Deyl¡¯s the damn rock¡ªloyal as hell, never stabbed a soul in the back, and his tracking¡¯s off the charts. Guy made it out alive ¡®cause he¡¯s just that good. No brainer. ¡° ¡° Who said these NPCs were dumb as rocks? They were sharp as hell! Marissa¡¯s mask slipped the second she fucked up, and the whole gang saw through her fake-ass game. Did you enjoy this chapter? I¡¯d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Thank you!