EPZ 5

Chapter: 5

All Sentinels were infected.

The powerful abilities they awakened merely slowed the virus’s progression. But if they used those abilities beyond their limits, both their physical functions and powers weakened—until they ultimately mutated into zombies.

That was why those in power created devices to manage Sentinels more easily.

The watch-like device worn on the wrist existed to check mutation rates. Sentinels, who did not mutate even when bitten, were far too useful a weapon to discard outright in this zombie-ridden world.

However, any Sentinel whose mutation rate exceeded 90% was executed by fellow Sentinels. They were no different from time bombs that could explode at any moment.

In a way, it was considered an honorable death. Eternal rest was far preferable to becoming a monster that craved human flesh.

The same was true for Caliph.

Blink.

His vision flickered again.

When he regained awareness, it was after a zombie had torn off one of his left fingers.

One of the creatures, having climbed over the bodies of its own kind, was gnawing noisily on the hand protruding out of the container.

Staring at his left hand now missing a finger, Caliph staggered to his feet.

Crunch!

The softened skull of a corpse was ripped free in an instant within his grip. Pitch-black clotted blood splattered onto the ground.

Even after being half-crushed, the head kept snapping its jaws repeatedly. Only after Caliph completely pulverized it did the rotting mass finally stop moving.

“Kraaaagh!”

“Kgh—kiak!”

“Kyaaa!”

The moment Caliph’s arm extended outside the container, the zombie horde swarmed him as if they had been waiting. The sight of them dangling from him and tearing at his flesh looked no different from a school of piranhas.

Watching this impassively, Caliph flicked his arm, shaking them off.

The arm, its bone half-exposed from bite marks, was slowly regenerating.

His ability was Regeneration.

Unless his head was pierced in one blow, he would never die. Even if half his body were blown away, it would regenerate perfectly within half a day.

But now, even a mere wound where some flesh had been torn away was regenerating far too slowly. His ability had weakened due to the high mutation rate.

Beeeeep—beeeep—

The number on the device emitting the warning sound changed.

[Mutation Rate: 98%]

His vision turned ash-gray.

So this was what it felt like. The faces of the comrades who had died by his own hands surfaced in his mind.

Mutated Sentinels who retained their abilities were no less than a catastrophe for humanity. Caliph had personally put down countless comrades.

At this rate…

He would become a monster.

That was his future—if it could even be called a future.

His unfocused, gray eyes wandered blankly through the air.

Then—

“[Hello? Captain? Hey? Are you listening? Can you catch me? I’m running! I’m seriously running! Aaaah! This is scary!]”

An unfamiliar foreign language rang in his ears.

Neatly cut black hair just below the jaw. Frightened black eyes. Trembling eyelashes.

Even the fine downy hairs standing on her flushed cheeks, reddened as if from exertion, were etched deeply into Caliph’s mind.

In a world stained black and white, only one person radiated vivid color.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Strangely, an intensely bizarre desire flickered within him.

He wanted to pull her into his arms and sob—yet at the same time, he wanted to tear her apart and swallow her whole. But the instant their eyes met, everything became clear.

I want to touch her.

He wanted to crush her lips beneath his teeth and drink deeply of the sweet fluid that would spill out.

He wanted to kiss each pale knuckle of her fingers, bury his face deep into the sweat-damp nape of her neck. If only he could touch her. If only he could.

Even if his miserable life were laid at her feet, he would not regret it for even a moment.

It was an irrational impulse even Caliph himself couldn’t understand. Yet he felt no desire whatsoever to resist it. As if it were a self-evident truth.

“[I—I—I’m really running! Aaaah! Catch me pleeease!]”

Her hand slipped, unable to bear her weight, and she began falling downward.

Damn it.

Grinding out a curse, Caliph forced himself upright.

His stiffened arm jerked awkwardly as it sliced through the air. Even in such a dire situation, he was suddenly bothered by the fact that he must look no different from the monsters below.

They too were reaching out toward the newly appeared prey.

Just like him.

Crash!

The two bodies, clumsily tangled together, rolled across the top of the container. Normally, he would have caught her without difficulty. But his corpse-like, frozen joints couldn’t even support this small woman safely.

Only when they reached the edge of the container did Caliph barely manage to stop, pulling her into his arms with effort. Mosquito-like hands were reaching for her.

“S-safe…”

The woman abruptly lifted her head from his chest, grinning broadly as she gave him a thumbs-up. Her utter lack of caution was almost absurd.

She really could have died. No—having stepped into this place, she would die. And not just because of the zombies.

He felt his body, which had stopped moving, twitch and snap.

He would mutate soon.

This woman had walked straight into the worst possible place to die.

Run away. Please—run away from me.

But his stiffened tongue couldn’t even form a single word.

When Caliph clenched his teeth, the woman smiled brightly and gently rubbed his tightly shut lips.

“I save you. You become my teammate. Okay?”

Beeeeep—beeeep—

The piercing alarm tore through his mind. The screams of the creatures pounding on the container walls echoed through the underground space.

Yet the woman smiled brilliantly, as if she knew nothing at all, waiting for his answer.

Not even knowing what he was agreeing to, Caliph nodded as if enchanted. A soft hand—untouched by hardship—cupped his rough cheek.

He couldn’t look away from her jet-black eyes, shining like stars. Yielding obediently to the woman’s pull into her small embrace, Caliph drew a deep breath.

“From now on, trade secret.”

A surprisingly pleasant scent came from her arms. Clean soap. And beneath it, a faintly sweet, mouthwatering natural fragrance.

Was he really about to become a cannibal?

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard with desperate thirst.

“Close your mouth and stay still. Or sleep.”

Her tone was arbitrary, her words poorly connected. Yet he felt no desire to disobey her at all.

Slender arms gently cradled his head.

Her body was so small that he had to curl himself tightly—but even that, Caliph welcomed.

The sharp headaches that had tormented him his entire life, the pain like thorns running through his veins—everything disappeared. Overwhelmed by a peace he had never known, he melted helplessly.

Caliph thought that perhaps this was what death felt like.

Boom!

“Kaaah!”

“Kraaa!”

Something shattered behind him, followed by a surge of searing heat crashing against his back. Along with acrid smoke, the zombies’ agonized screams pierced his ears.

Blink.

His memory cut off again.

A sudden, chilling fear seized his heart. He would soon mutate like them. He would never see this woman again.

It was a foretold future no one could change.

* * *

“Don’t tell me he’s dead.”

Jigu muttered grimly as she shone a flashlight over the motionless man’s face.

Aside from the two oil bottles she’d thrown in advance, she had dumped all 690 Molotov cocktails at once. Outside the container, dozens of zombies were being roasted to a crisp.

Making it into the container to escape the flames was one thing—but the man’s condition was clearly abnormal.

“[Hello? Hey? Captain? Open your eyes!]”

As Jigu pried open the man’s eyelids, she froze.

Zombies shared several common traits. Being corpses, their joints were stiff, their movements sluggish, and they reeked horribly. But the most defining feature was their eyes.

Gray eyes turned cloudy, as if covered by a thin film.

The man’s unfocused eyes were also a hazy ash-gray.

Did he turn into a zombie?

No. That couldn’t be right. The system hadn’t shown a quest failure.

Feeling icy goosebumps race down her spine, Jigu hurriedly opened her status window.

Before losing consciousness, she had definitely seen the system message registering Caliph Roxberg as a party member.

If party members’ infection status could be viewed like her own, she should be able to confirm his condition precisely.

And her guess proved correct.

Halfway.

[Party Members]

• Caliph Roxberg
  HP 56% / Mutation Rate 98%

“Mutation rate…?”

Tilting her head, Jigu then checked her own status window.

Won Jigu
HP 62% / Infection Rate 0%

Mine says infection rate, but why is his listed as mutation rate?

Beeeeep—beeeep—

And what was this strange alarm?

The warning sound, mixed with the zombies’ howls outside, felt ominous.

The sound was coming from the watch on the man’s wrist. But something was odd.

A normal watch showed time—but this one displayed only a large number, with no other buttons in sight.

“What is this number supposed to be…?”

As Jigu’s gaze landed on it, the number changed from 98% to 99%. At the same time, his mutation rate on the status window also updated to 99%.

Don’t tell me… this watch shows the mutation rate?

The instant that realization struck her, a system window appeared before her eyes.

[Emergency Quest]

• Reduce Caliph Roxberg’s mutation rate to below 90% within the time limit (00:29:59)

 Success Reward: Earth Protection Zone Skill Enhancement
  Maximum Area 6㎡ → 66㎡
 Failure Penalty: Game Clear Failure

“What? Lower the mutation rate?”

Jigu’s eyes shook violently as she read the quest.

She didn’t know the exact difference, but both infection rate and mutation rate clearly had something to do with the zombie virus.

And now she was being told to lower it.

If she could do that, what—was she a vaccine?

 Jigu stared in disbelief, mouth hanging open, before letting out a hollow sigh.