He stuffed the sphere into the slot on his tactical belt with a crisp click.
After doing all this, Abel finally turned around, his emotionless eyes fixed on Kuzan, who was kneeling on one knee.
At this moment, the Admiral looked excessively disheveled.
Kuzan supported himself with one hand on his knee, panting heavily.
His white suit jacket, a symbol of justice, had long since been reduced to rags. The wound on his right shoulder was deep enough to see the bone. Although he had frozen the blood vessels, the piercing pain and the dizziness caused by blood loss continued to assault the Admiral's nerves.
Click, click, click.
The steady sound of military boots interrupted Kuzan's thoughts.
"Catch."
A red arc streaked through the air.
Kuzan instinctively raised his left hand and caught it.
It was an exquisite crystal bottle containing a blood-red liquid that was still sloshing slightly, emitting a strange, warm sensation.
"This is..."
Kuzan frowned, looking at the bottle in his hand with vigilance.
"A low-level restorative potion."
Abel said casually, as if he had just thrown away a bottle of mineral water. "Although it is the most basic restorative potion for the Foundation, it should work quite well for the biological constitution of a low-level civilization like yours."
Reason told him not to drink anything of unknown origin, especially from such a mysterious and unfathomable organization.
But his body's instincts were craving it.
Every cell was screaming for this liquid.
"Ara ara..."
Kuzan gave a wry smile and flicked the bottle stopper off with his thumb. "Anyway, in my current state, if you wanted to kill me, you would have done it already. There's no need to poison me."
After saying this, he tilted his head back and drank the red liquid in one gulp.
Gulp.
The moment the liquid went down his throat, Kuzan's eyes widened sharply.
There was no bitterness or fishy taste as he had imagined.
It was an unbelievably massive surge of life energy!
Boom!
It felt as if a ball of fire had exploded in his stomach, then instantly flowed through his blood vessels to his entire body.
His pale, paper-white complexion turned ruddy at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The terrifying wound on his shoulder, which had been deep enough to see the bone, saw flesh granules wriggling madly. Torn muscle fibers reconnected, and the shattered bones made crackling sounds.
In just three seconds.
The feelings of weakness, intense pain, and dizziness had all vanished.
In their place was a vitality so full it felt like it was about to overflow.
"This..."
Kuzan looked at his palm, his pupils vibrating violently.
Is this... the Foundation of the so-called "SCP Foundation"?
"Ding! The 'HP Potion' given by the host has shocked the Admiral Kuzan. astonishment value +422!"
"It seems the effect is decent enough."
Abel glanced at the fully recovered Kuzan, his tone still devoid of any ripples. "Since the containment mission is complete, it is time for me to leave."
"Leaving?"
Kuzan was stunned for a moment and asked instinctively, "That guy in red..."
"Will be sent to the Foundation for processing."
Kuzan turned his head, his gaze sweeping across the chaotic battlefield.
Everywhere he looked, there were crystalline ice sculptures.
There were hideous zombies, monsters that had mutated, and also...
Those Marine Soldiers wearing seagull uniforms, still maintaining the posture of swinging their blades at their comrades.
Moments before they were frozen, their bodies had already mutated.
Some had bone spurs growing on their faces, some had fingers turned into sharp claws, and some even had half of their heads exploded, revealing wriggling tentacles inside.
Kuzan's eyes dimmed.
He looked up at Abel, who was preparing to organize his equipment and leave.
"Hey."
Kuzan spoke up to stop Abel.
Abel stopped, turned his head, and in those indifferent eyes, there was no emotional fluctuation.
"Anything else?"
Kuzan pointed to an ice sculpture not far away.
"Since the mission is complete and the source has been captured by you."
Kuzan's voice was somewhat low, appearing exceptionally clear in the cold wind.
"Are these soldiers... still salvageable?"
In the ruins not far away.
Smoker lifted his head abruptly.
If it were this mysterious and powerful organization...
If it were them...
Abel looked in the direction of Kuzan's finger.
"What do you mean by'salvageable'?"
"Do you mean unfreezing them? Or turning them back to normal?"
Kuzan took a deep breath, the cold air circulating in his lungs.
"Turning them back to normal."
"They are Marines, soldiers fighting for justice."
"If it is just a virus infection, as long as the host is killed, or an antidote is developed..."
"Ha."
Abel let out a laugh.
The laugh was short, cold, and devoid of any temperature.
He turned around, facing Kuzan and Smoker directly.
"It seems that you still lack the most basic understanding of things like the 'blacklight virus'."
Abel raised his hand and pointed to his own head.
"Listen well."
"This is not the flu, nor is it some bacterial infection."
"This is a rewrite at the genetic level, a forced tampering of life forms."
He walked slowly to the ice sculpture of Ron, extending his finger to gently tap the mutated bone hammer.
Ding, ding.
The crisp sound echoed across the ice field.
"At the moment of infection, when the first bone spur pierced the skin, when the first cell began to devour normal tissue."
"This person had already died."
"Dead... is he?"
Beside him, Smoker's voice was as hoarse as if he had swallowed a handful of sand.
"That's enough, Smoker."
An exaggeratedly large palm pressed onto Smoker's shoulder.
"Don't be so pathetic."
Kuzan looked at his subordinates inside the ice sculptures, his eyes beneath his sunglasses dark and unreadable.
"As a Commander, what we need to do is not stand here crying like a girl."
"But rather..."
Kuzan took a deep breath, cold air surging in his palm.
Crack.
The surface of the ice sculpture was instantly covered with cracks.
"Give them a decent farewell."
As Kuzan's words fell, the ice sculpture shattered with a roar, turning into countless crystalline powders that dissipated into the cold wind.
No corpses, no gore.
Only pure ice and snow.
Smoker watched the ice crystals dancing in the sky, his eyes red, the Jitte in his hand creaking as he squeezed it.
But in the end, he didn't say anything more.
This is the sea.
This is the cruel reality.
"Nice to meet you, Curly Hair."
In the wind and snow, Abel's final voice came through.
Carrying a hint of mockery, and also a hint of condescending arrogance.
"I hope that when we meet again, your civilization will have evolved to be slightly more decent."
"Don't get nearly wiped out by this kind of low-level virus again."
Whoosh—
A gust of strong wind blew past.
When the wind and snow dispersed, the ice field was empty.
That figure, like a demon god, had completely disappeared as if it had never appeared.
Leaving behind only a chaotic battlefield and two Marines with complex expressions.
"Cur... Curly Hair?"
Smoker instinctively looked at Kuzan's iconic curly black hair, his mouth twitching uncontrollably.
In this World, the only person who would dare to give such a nickname to an Admiral is probably that madman.
Kuzan raised his hand to touch his hair, his face full of helplessness.
"Ara ara..."
"What an annoying guy."
He sighed, took an eye mask out of his pocket, and put it back on.
"It's best if we never meet again in this lifetime."