The young policewoman, who looked no older than seventeen or eighteen, froze in shock.
She had never expected a third person to be here.
And after seeing the monster in front of her, this man had not run. He had stepped forward instead, sounding as if he intended to help.
This creature was nothing like the ordinary zombies.
Without their immunity to pain and injury, regular zombies were actually weaker than an average person.
But the monster before her was different. One swing of its arm could crack walls and overturn alloy lab tables weighing several tons. Its strength was overwhelming.
The girl turned to look.
A young man in black tactical gear was walking toward her, a heavy sniper rifle strapped across his back.
There were faint specks of blood on his face. She could not clearly make out his features, but his eyes stood out immediately.
Bright. Strikingly so.
He did not belong in a place like this.
Everyone she had encountered tonight had eyes filled with fear or numbness.
But his were different.
Clear, greedy, disgusted, and carrying a quiet, buried anger.
"That thing is dangerous. Don't go near it!" the young officer shouted.
Mero paused for only a fraction of a second at her warning, mildly surprised.
But in the next instant, he had already swept past her.
The Tyrant T-001 raised its still-intact left arm and threw a punch.
Mero answered with one of his own.
The moment their fists collided, a visible shockwave burst outward.
A dull crack echoed from the Tyrant's joints as its massive body staggered back three or four steps.
The smaller figure did not move an inch.
Mero's expression darkened slightly as memories he would rather forget surfaced.
When he was six, he had been bitten by a dog at an orphanage.
He was supposed to receive a rabies vaccine.
Instead, he was injected with the Progenitor virus.
He had fused with it perfectly, becoming something beyond human.
From that moment on, his physical abilities skyrocketed.
He had once thought his life would shift into something effortless and extravagant, a life of luxury, fast cars, and beautiful companions.
That illusion did not last long.
Only then did he realize he had been under Umbrella's surveillance since birth.
The infection had not been an accident. It had been arranged.
The moment his compatibility was confirmed, he was taken straight into a laboratory.
He had been furious.
Anyone with half a brain would know what awaited a "perfect subject" in a lab.
He resisted immediately.
But a child, even one with enhanced strength, had no chance against the machinery of the modern world.
Countless gun barrels had been pointed at his head. Aircraft and heavy weapons had sealed off the facility.
That was when he understood something clearly.
He belonged to Umbrella.
So he stayed.
Not as a researcher, but as the one being studied.
Later, the Organization arrived.
That was when he met Ada.
She was the one who raised him.
The Organization was exactly what its name implied, a transnational mercenary group that worked for whoever paid.
Many coveted Umbrella's research.
Back then, the Organization had accepted a contract worth billions to raid one of Umbrella's facilities and seize experimental data.
After all, someone like Mero, a one-in-a-million success, was worth that much.
Those memories were anything but pleasant.
That was why he held a grudge against Umbrella.
But what surprised him now was the Tyrant's performance.
The young officer's eyes widened when she saw him exchange blows with the creature.
But when she came back to her senses, confusion overtook her shock.
He was still standing.
Was this man even human?
The Tyrant's greatest weakness was its lack of speed and agility.
Even so, when she had been grazed by one of its attacks, she had been sent flying.
Her entire body still throbbed with pain, as if her organs had been shaken loose.
"You…" she started, unsure what to say.
"Here. Hold this for me."
Mero calmly placed a small camera into her hands.
"Keep it steady. Shaky footage won't sell well. This video's worth money."
Combat data was not complicated.
It was simply footage that demonstrated combat capability.
Seeing that he spoke clearly and made no move to attack her, the girl felt a flicker of relief.
At the very least, he was not a zombie.
With strength like his, maybe he was just naturally gifted.
"This can be sold?"
"Yeah. At least six figures. If you do a good job, I might even give you a cut… one percent."
"?"
She blinked, momentarily stunned.
They had just met, and he was already assigning her a job and talking about splitting profits.
Her mind struggled to keep up.
But his relaxed tone felt strangely comforting, like a ray of sunlight cutting through winter cold.
"But I'm not good at filming…"
Before she could finish, a violent gust of wind roared toward them.
She looked up.
A massive claw was already closing in.
The Tyrant, having recovered, lunged forward with a piercing strike.
Even from several meters away, she could feel the force tearing through the air.
But the weakness of this bio-weapon was clear.
It was not fast enough.
Mero sidestepped effortlessly, the attack missing him by a hair's breadth.
His fist had already slammed into the Tyrant's face.
The massive creature was sent flying, crashing hard into the laboratory wall.
Boom!
The wall caved inward from the impact.
A cry of shock burst from behind him.
"So fast! So strong!"
The young officer had only seen a blur before the Tyrant was blasted away.
Mero, who had been about to press the attack, paused.
Her words reminded him of something.
If the Tyrant lost its ability to fight too quickly, the footage would be worthless.
And that might mean less money.
That would be a problem.
"Graaah!"
The Tyrant T-001 staggered back to its feet, black blood seeping from its shattered face.
"That speed… that strength… calling it natural talent doesn't even begin to cover it!"
The young officer, Rebecca Chambers, was stunned.
Snapping out of it, she quickly raised the camera and steadied her hands.
At eighteen, she had graduated from university with outstanding achievements in chemistry and joined the elite S.T.A.R.S. Bravo Team.
Today was her first mission.
As a medic, she understood the human body better than most.
And nothing about Mero fit within those limits.
"He has a gun, but he's fighting hand-to-hand… is he chasing thrills, or filming an action movie?"
Her expression shifted. Holding the camera steady with one hand, she pushed herself up from the ground with the other.
With her short brown hair and petite frame, she looked more like a girl next door than a battlefield survivor.
And yet, human potential should never be underestimated.
Despite being just over 1.6 meters tall, after taking a hit from the Tyrant and rolling across the floor, she was already back on her feet as if nothing had happened.
Rebecca.