Chapter 87: Freakishness

Theo exerted a sudden, forceful pull, hoisting May up and pivoting sharply to press her flat against the cold metal examination table.

With a heavy thud, May’s back slammed against the surface. Before she could attempt to scramble up, Theo had already pinned her knee, forcefully flattening one of her legs.

"Theo, this is... this is too humiliating..."

May cried out in a shaky, choked voice, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Shut up. Move again, and the blade will slip into your femoral artery, leaving you to spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair."

Theo’s voice carried the cold weight of absolute iron.

"I’m going to extract the glass fragment. Once it’s out, you’ll be fine... it’ll be fine..."

Instantly, May froze in terror. Squeezing her eyes shut tight, she grabbed handfuls of the sterile fabric beneath her, her fingers trembling violently.

Theo lowered his gaze.

The shadowless lamp overhead blazed with blinding intensity. When his vision finally locked onto the injured area, his much-vaunted composure shattered like crystal under a heavy hammer.

Along the delicate expanse of her inner thigh, several superficial glass scratches oozed tiny beads of blood.

Yet at the very terminus of those abrasions, dangerously close to—

Fresh blood spread slowly beneath the skin, a sight that alone made breathing feel heavy and strained.

Theo’s breath hitched abruptly.

That steady, surgically precise hand of his—capable of operating without a margin of error measured in fractions of a millimeter—hovered in mid-air, his fingertips trembling uncontrollably.

"This wound..." Theo’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with a distinct, audible swallow.

May could feel his gaze resting against her skin like a physical weight, burning hot enough to leave her numb all over.

Come on, hurry up, I’m ready. I just hope it’s not like Ray’s...

"Theo, are you actually going to look or what?"

With her eyes still squeezed shut, May’s voice shook like a sieve. "If it’s too much trouble, forget it. I’ll just rinse it out with rubbing alcohol myself..."

"Don’t move."

Theo’s tone dropped into a low, raspy register, accompanied by a suppressed breath of absolute restraint.

His fingers extended slowly, hovering right above—

The heat radiating from his palm managed to pierce the cool air, making May shiver and twitch her leg instinctively.

Theo’s fingertips hovered mere centimeters away...

His hands shook uncontrollably in spite of himself. The overwhelming, oppressive gaze of the man, combined with the impossible proximity...

All her senses wove together into a crushing knot of panic and humiliation, gripping tight around May’s heart. She could hear his throat muscles moving—a soft, subtle sound that struck like a heavy hammer against her frazzled nerves.

Hurry up and do it! Are you planning to perform laser surgery on me using just your stare?!

May kept her eyes sealed.

[Ding-dong! Detected host heart rate exceeding 180. Fear levels reaching peak threshold; emergency self-preservation protocol initiated!]

[Congratulations, host has acquired an Epic Item: High-Speed Deep-Penetration Pain-Relief Patch (Strawberry Warming Edition) x1!]

A pink adhesive patch smelling faintly of cheap strawberry flavoring materialized right in the center of May’s palm. Printed across the packaging were bold, obnoxious hot-pink letters that made her want to curse aloud.

[System Instructions: Apply this product directly to the affected area. Press and massage in firm circular motions with your palm until the patch heats up completely and is absorbed by the skin, activating the nanobots to expel toxins and repair the tissue!]

Circular massage?

Well, things had already reached this point.

It wasn’t entirely out of the question. Theo had such a great physique; hopefully he wouldn’t be like Ray—so... intense. Otherwise, she’d genuinely need to call a tow truck.

***

(Meanwhile, down the hall...)

Black blood smeared the floor so thickly that every step threatened to slip.

The edge of the combat trench knife in Ray’s hand had rolled completely dull. Kicking aside the twitching torso of a half-severed infected, he wiped the gore off his face and spat out a mouthful of blood-tinged saliva.

"What the hell kind of cursed freakishness is this?! You hack it to pieces like this and it still won’t die?!"

Leaning against the wall, Mitch steadied a heavy sniper rifle, the barrel smoking hot. Changing magazines with a sharp clack, he took aim at a severed zombie head still snapping its jaws at the empty air and pulled the trigger. Bang.

Half its skull blew away, yet the twitching head continued to bare its teeth.

"Ray! These bastards are endless!"

Mitch glared down the sight, cursing aloud. "My ammo’s almost empty, and this head is acting like it’s hooked up to a spring!"

"Less talking! Watch that severed leg!" Ray barked.

Before his words finished, a severed zombie arm snapped upward from the pool of black gore like a mutated spider. Its five long, taloned fingers locked onto Jack’s combat boot, dragging itself relentlessly upward.

Standing at over two meters tall and weighing a massive load, Jack simply lifted his heavy boot and stomped down hard.

A crisp crunch echoed through the space.

The arm shattered under his heel into fragments of bone and tissue, spraying black blood like a ruptured geyser that soaked his trouser leg.

"Ray, it’s biting my boot sole!"

Looking deeply aggrieved, Jack grabbed the severed limb with his massive palm and hurled it into the corner like a piece of garbage. "Why is this thing so tough? I can shatter stone slabs with a single punch, but hitting this feels like punching a marshmallow!"

Hiding behind a fire hydrant with his head poking out, Alex’s messy brown hair clung to his sweaty forehead as he batted his wide puppy-dog eyes with utter innocence.

Yet tucked within his hand was a military dagger. As a stray zombie torso writhed past him, his arm flicked with blinding speed, slicing a precise cut along its spine to slide a tiny tracking beacon deep into the wound.

The maneuver was exceptionally vicious and subtle.

Ray turned his gaze toward Ace.

Standing at the opposite end of the corridor, Ace twirled a pair of short tactical blades coated entirely in black gore. A gentle smile lingered on his almond eyes, while a neat pile of cleanly severed zombie chunks lay scattered near his boots.

"Ace, where’s the explosives? These things have insane regenerative power—if you can’t hack ’em to death, blow ’em to pieces!" Ray growled in a low voice.

Ace chuckled lightly, shaking the blood off his blades. "Ray, this hallway is far too narrow. If the explosives go off, we’ll be joining them in the sky. Besides, their cellular activity is way too high; even if we blast them into mincemeat, they’ll probably stitch themselves back together."

Mitch cursed fiercely, firing another round to blast away a length of intestines attempting to crawl toward his boots.

Ray’s brows locked into a rigid knot.

These two Stitch-Splicers were utterly unnatural. Chopped into seven or eight segments, every single piece continued moving independently, showing active signs of reassembling.

The crushed flesh on the floor began wriggling back toward the center on its own accord, producing a slick, squelching friction sound that made the skin crawl.

Just then, Ray’s peripheral vision caught sight of the closed iron door leading to the surgical prep room at the far end of the hall.

It was entirely silent inside.

Ray’s heart skipped a beat.

How long had Theo and May been in there?

Ten minutes?

Half an hour?

Why wasn’t there a single sound?