"Aarh...!"
The traffic police officer, now one of the infected, heard the engine's roar. It raised its head, howled wetly at Dominik and Simon's passing Hilux, then continued to "feed" with single-minded focus.
"Heh." Simon chuckled at the sight through his night vision, marveling. "This city isn't short on 'food,' is it? If that were a zombie out in the jungle, it would have chased us for a mile."
"I say... you're practically wishing they'd attack us, aren't you?" Dominik shook his head helplessly, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.
After Simon adjusted the focus on his PVS-14 goggles, he asked Dominik, "You know where your sister is, right? I mean, the exact location. Otherwise, finding one person in a city of over a million is like looking for a needle in a haystack."
"Of course... I know," Dominik replied, pausing.
In fact, when Simon asked him that question, he had already opened the Side Quest details on his retinal display. The System provided an exact address.
Dominik then said to Simon, "The Britton Hotel. It's on 35th Street, near the moat. Do you know where that is?"
"Humm..." Simon shrugged, pulling out a laminated tourist map he had scavenged. "Britton Hotel... Britton... found it. It's a budget place. Two blocks east."
After putting away the map, Simon guided Dominik through the smoke-filled streets.
"Go straight. Watch the wreck on the left. Yes, then turn right at the intersection."
"Continue straight for about five hundred meters. Ignore the walkers on the sidewalk."
"Turn left into the alley. You're there."
In just over ten minutes, the two drove to the vicinity of the Britton Hotel.
If evaluated by Dominik's standards before his transmigration, the Britton Hotel was a solid three-star establishment. It was a mid-range hotel popular with backpackers and budget tourists—an older concrete building with a slightly faded facade, but functional.
It fit the narrative. Dominik was a student on a budget, and his sister Laura, likely visiting to celebrate his upcoming graduation or check on him, wouldn't be staying at the five-star resorts by the palace.
Seeing Dominik lost in thought, staring up at the dark windows of the hotel, Simon patted his shoulder. "Don't worry. If she's smart, she's barricaded in. We will get her out."
"Mm." Dominik nodded. He killed the headlights and slowly rolled the pickup to a stop in the shadows of the hotel entrance awning.
Fortunately, this district was slightly removed from the dense city center. Most of the zombies were concentrated downtown near the markets and the palace, drawn by the panic and the larger groups of survivors.
The Britton Hotel was in a quiet neighborhood. But "quiet" in a city of the dead was relative.
Just on this street alone, Dominik could see dozens of figures shuffling in the gloom. But their slow movement speed meant they posed no immediate threat as long as they kept the noise down.
Clang. Clang. The soft sound of two doors opening and closing.
Dominik and Simon got out of the truck. They racked the charging handles of their weapons.
Simon walked in front of Dominik and whispered, "I'll be point. You cover rear. Watch our six. If anything moves behind us, you drop it. Understand?"
"Understood!" Dominik nodded vigorously, screwing the oil filter tighter onto his Type-56.
Click. The sound of night vision devices activating.
At this moment, both their worlds turned into a monochrome green phosphor landscape.
Dominik looked around. The street, which was pitch black to the naked eye, was now illuminated in eerie detail. He could see the trash on the pavement, the blood splatter on the walls, and the glowing eyes of the infected down the block.
Although he had played many games like Call of Duty and used night vision in them, reality was different. The depth perception was tricky, and the limited field of view felt claustrophobic.
After a moment of adjusting to the tunnel vision, Dominik calmed down and slowly followed behind Simon, stepping over shattered glass as they entered the hotel lobby.
"Ah!"
"Awoo!"
Thump... drag... thump...
Screams of agony from distant floors, along with the zombies' unique hollow moans, occasionally echoed through the ventilation shafts, making the dark building feel like a living, breathing monster.
This made Dominik consider retreating. Facing a horde in the open street was scary, but you could run.
In a confined space like a hotel? The combat power of zombies skyrocketed. They could be behind any door, around any corner, or lying dormant in the dark until you stepped on them.
But when Dominik saw Simon moving forward with the fluid grace of a predator, checking corners and moving silently, he gritted his teeth. He couldn't be the weak link. He had a sister to save.
Soon, the two arrived in front of the elevator bank.
Simon tried pressing the call button. No light. No sound. The power grid was definitely dead.
He whispered, "Which floor is Laura on?"
"Fifth floor. Room 517," Dominik whispered back.
Simon nodded. He didn't speak further, instead leading Dominik to the heavy fire door marked EXIT.
Simon stacked up against the wall next to the door. He held up three fingers.
Dominik understood. He moved to the handle.
Creak! Dominik pulled the heavy door open.
Simon flowed into the stairwell instantly. He swept the landing—left, up, down.
"Clear."
Dominik slipped inside, letting the door close softly behind him to muffle any noise.
The stairwell was tight, concrete, and smelled of urine and rot.
Simon took the lead, weapon raised, moving up the stairs with practiced ease. Dominik followed, keeping his eyes on the landing below them, ensuring they weren't being trailed.
At the first turn between the ground and first floor, Simon froze.
"Ugh..."
A zombie—a member of the hotel staff in a torn uniform—was sitting in the corner of the landing. Its legs were mangled. Upon seeing the green glow of their NVGs, it immediately began to struggle violently, letting out a wet, gurgling hiss.
Pfft!
Before the zombie could build up to a scream, Simon put a single 5.56mm round through its eye socket. The head snapped back, hitting the concrete wall with a wet slap.
Simon stepped over the body without pausing. "Clear."
...This scene repeated itself on the second and third floors. They encountered singular, isolated infected. Simon dispatched them with clinical efficiency.
However, the five flights of stairs took them nearly five minutes to climb. They checked every corner, every shadow.
Safety was paramount. In a stairwell, sound traveled. One mistake, one loud scream, and they could be trapped between a horde coming down and a horde coming up.
Finally, they reached the door marked 5.