At the end of the corridor, Lin An paused.
In his previous life, he had only heard that a mutant appeared in this hotel, but the exact location was unclear. That mutant was known as the "Bloody Witch."
Her strength was not remarkable, but her cruelty spread fear across Linjiang City in the early days of the apocalypse. Survivors whispered her name in terror, not because of her power—but because of her methods.
The Bloody Witch delighted in torment. Any player unlucky enough to fall into her hands did not die swiftly. They were dismembered piece by piece, screams echoing long after their bodies gave out.
Lin An frowned. Do I really have to clear every floor until I find her?
He exhaled, deciding quickly. No hesitation.
"Clang."
The edge of his Nepalese machete tapped the wall as he walked forward, each metallic knock sharp in the silence.
The zombies crowded around the doors and turned at the sound. Only a handful lunged toward him, the rest still clawing at the weakening frame.
"Crack."
The door splintered under the endless gnawing and battering. With a final snap, it collapsed inward, and the horde poured through.
Inside, Yu Shihao's eyes glowed with madness. He clutched Zhou Fang's hair, dragging her across the floor as she screamed and thrashed. Blood streamed from her slashed wrist, staining the tiles. Wang Fang's ankle, pierced and broken earlier, buckled uselessly.
"Damn bitch!" Yu Shihao spat, voice hoarse with panic. "If someone's dying, it won't be me!"
With savage force, he hurled the girl into the rushing corpses. She hit the ground hard, crying out in despair. Yu Shihao didn't stop—he kicked her square in the back, driving her into the swarm.
The zombies converged instantly. Rotten hands tore at her flesh, ripping away skin and clothing. Her cries turned to piercing shrieks as teeth ripped through her cheek, peeling her face apart.
Yu Shihao didn't dare meet her gaze. Those eyes—filled with raw betrayal, pain, and venomous resentment—burned into him even as her voice broke under the gnashing of teeth.
Now was his chance.
"Ahhh!" He bellowed, half in rage, half to steel his nerves. Covering his head, he charged through the distracted horde.
Two meters. Three meters.
He trained his body obsessively in the old world, and desperation lent him unnatural strength. He broke through, stumbling free of the encirclement.
Survivor's ecstasy lit his face. Crawling into the hallway, Yu Shihao gasped for breath, sweat and blood mixing on his skin.
Lin An moved with calm precision. Each swing of his blade was clean, efficient—zombies fell in quick succession. His gaze cut past Yu Shihao, cold and uninterested.
The boy froze, staring at the man who had just sheathed his blade in one fluid motion. Such speed. Such power.
"Brother! Please, help me!" Yu Shihao scrambled forward, throwing himself to his knees before Lin An. "My girlfriend… she was eaten alive. I couldn't save her. Please, don't leave me!"
His voice cracked, eyes brimming with feigned grief. But Lin An did not respond.
Without a word, he strode into the feasting zombies, the machete flashing again. In a few swift arcs, he carved through the horde like a tiger among sheep.
Yu Shihao's lips curled in a secret sneer. Perfect. This guy's strength is real. If I stick to him, I'm saved. That bitch's death was worth it.
He shivered as Lin An crushed the last zombie's skull with one hand, bone popping like a burst melon. Blood sprayed, and Lin An stood unshaken, scanning the remains.
Yu Shihao quickly tore off his jacket, bowing low. "Big brother, let me wipe the blood for you—"
"Roll."
The single word froze him in place. He dropped the coat, swallowing hard, and stepped back.
Lin An's eyes flickered faintly with the Eye of Judgment. Nothing. No traces of the Bloody Witch here. These were just ordinary corpses. That meant either she was on another floor… or she had yet to mutate.
The second possibility troubled him. Killing an unmutated zombie earned nothing, and without leveling up, reaching the hospital's equipment was impossible. Every step was chained to the next. One mistake could unravel it all.
Director Wang and another survivor finally caught up, panting as they reached the eighth floor.
Lin An broke the silence. His tone was calm, but it carried weight."Have you seen a special female zombie? Or any that behaved abnormally?"
The survivors exchanged blank looks. They had no idea what he meant.
Yu Shihao, eager to prove his worth, stepped forward. "Brother, there are plenty of female zombies around. What do you mean by 'special'?"
Lin An hesitated. Truthfully, he wasn't sure. The chat channels had only recorded her name—no image, no detailed description. Only the reputation. Bloody Witch.
"Special," he said quietly, "as in something that matches that name."
The others shook their heads, confused.
Yu Shihao forced a laugh. "Big brother, I've been locked in since the outbreak. Haven't stepped out once. But if you're searching, let me help. This building's huge—you shouldn't waste time alone."
He pulled up his player panel, presenting it respectfully.
Player Information: Yu Shihao (Level 0)
Strength: 7
Agility: 6
Constitution: 6
Will: 8
Not bad. Above average for a civilian.
"Brother," Yu Shihao pressed, his eyes gleaming with forced humility, "what about your strength? Just now, your blade was like lightning. Eleven points, right? You've already broken human limits?"
Lin An's gaze sharpened. He said nothing. Testing him, was he? Yu Shihao's flattery was a mask, thinly veiled curiosity beneath.
Without answering, Lin An simply turned toward the next flight of stairs.
Yu Shihao hurried after him, desperate. "Big brother, take me with you. I'll do anything. I won't drag you down!"
Lin An frowned. Yu Shihao was quick-witted, his stats decent, his tongue sharper than most. Useful, maybe. But ordinary people weren't worth the Savior Team's limited slots. The system prevented betrayal, yes—but that didn't mean every leech deserved saving.
Yu Shihao clenched his fists behind his back. This guy knows the secret. He must know how to get stronger. I just need to stay close long enough to pry it out of him.
Lin An ignored the buzzing shadow at his side, descending the stairs with measured steps. Director Wang and the others followed nervously at a distance.
Behind them, the corridor grew darker.
On the ruined floor, half of Wang Fang's torn face stared blankly upward. Her one remaining eye brimmed with cold resentment, fixed on the ceiling.
No one looked back.