At the rear, Amily, Vespera, and Jorah's hearts were all lodged in their throats, pounding so erratically they felt like they might burst from their chests. The faint smell of blood and the icy killing intent radiating from the three up front saturated the air, creating an incredibly oppressive atmosphere.
Amily clamped her hand tightly over her mouth, terrified of making the slightest sound that might disturb the "hunt" being carried out ahead. She held Vespera close, using her own body to shield her daughter as much as possible from the bloody scenes.
However, Vespera's reaction was far stronger than Amily had anticipated. Her pale little face showed none of the fear or panic typical of a child her age. Instead, it held a calmness and… focus that belied her years. Perhaps because she had been unable to speak for so long, and her body was congenitally frail, her temperament was far more mature and resilient than that of an ordinary child.
When she peeked through a gap in Amily's arms and saw an undead that Elara had stabbed in the nape, now collapsed on the ground but still twitching faintly, an unusual glint suddenly flashed in her normally placid eyes.
Almost instinctively, a faint but precise psychic wave emanated from her. The still-twitching undead's body abruptly stiffened, then went completely still. Simultaneously, Vespera wriggled free from Amily's embrace. She drew a small but exceptionally sharp dagger from her waist—a weapon Elara had specially prepared for her, which looked oversized and incongruous in her small hand—and without hesitation, plunged it fiercely into the undead's temple!
Her movements, though slightly unpracticed, were incredibly decisive, devoid of any hesitation or flinching.
When she withdrew the dagger, pulling out a stream of foul liquid, a faint… almost exhilarated expression even flickered across Vespera's pale little face!
This scene was caught by Elara out of the corner of her eye. A thought stirred within her. This child… she might truly be a natural-born hunter. This trait—finding calmness, even a sliver of pleasure, in killing—was both dangerous and… powerful in the apocalypse.
Elara shot Vespera an approving smile, her eyes conveying a hint of encouragement.
Seeing Elara's smile, Vespera's slightly stern little expression instantly melted. A shy blush naturally crept onto her small cheeks, and she lowered her head, fiddling self-consciously with the hem of her clothes.
After clearing out the scattered undead in the second-floor corridor, the group dared not use the elevators, unsure if they were still operational and knowing they could easily become traps. Instead, they opted to descend via a stairwell with an open security door.
The stairwell was pitch black, with only the beams of their tactical flashlights dancing on the cold walls, creating an eerie and oppressive atmosphere. The further down they went, the quieter it became, so quiet they could hear each other's heartbeats and breathing.
When they reached the landing of the first basement level, Zephyr made a gesture to halt. He listened intently for a moment, then carefully pushed the heavy fire door open a tiny crack to peer outside.
After a moment, he seemed to detect something. His perpetually tense body suddenly relaxed, and he even let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief.
"It's the underground parking garage. Looks like it's connected to some storage areas as well," Zephyr said in a low voice.
This was mixed news. Underground parking garages were typically spacious, but that also meant fewer places to take cover. If a fight broke out, they could easily be surrounded. The connection to a warehouse, however, might mean they could find useful supplies, but it could also harbor more dangers.
Just then, a sickening "crunching, crunching" sound drifted faintly from the depths of the garage, like something being gnawed and chewed.
What Elara found even more unsettling was that this underground garage… was also exceptionally clean, just like the institute's interior upstairs! The ground was almost devoid of any trash or stains, with very few bloodstains visible.
This practically confirmed it with one hundred percent certainty: the potential 'Zombie King' definitely had some sort of 'obsession with cleanliness'!
The group exchanged glances and decided to investigate the source of the sound. Crouching low, they used the abandoned vehicles parked in the garage as cover, silently approaching the direction of the "crunching" noise.
As they drew closer, the sound became clearer. In a dimly lit corner, they saw a shadowy figure.
It was a slender figure wearing a black-and-white plaid shirt, squatting in the corner with its back to them, hands clutching something, seemingly… eating. From the back, the figure looked like a young woman. Even her hair… seemed to be unusually neat and smooth, completely out of place with the apocalyptic surroundings.
Elara's heart began to beat a little faster. A survivor? Or…
Just as they were about to move closer to get a better look at the figure, something happened abruptly!
A leg, so pale it was bloodless, yet exceptionally long and slender, emerged like a phantom, silently extending from a partially open warehouse door nearby, blocking their path!
"Ah!"
Jorah, at the very rear of the group, saw a blur, and then a deathly white leg appeared in front of him. He was scared out of his wits, his legs turned to jelly, and he collapsed onto the ground. He instinctively reached into his pocket, tightly gripping the handful of plant seeds Elara had given him earlier. His fingertips were white from the pressure, and he almost couldn't control the urge to scatter all the seeds at once!
The figure in the plaid shirt, squatting in the corner, seemed to have noticed the commotion. Its "eating" movements paused slightly, and then… it slowly, slowly turned its head.
When the face was fully revealed in the beams of their flashlights, even Elara, who had seen all sorts of horrors, couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath.
It was the face of a young woman. Her features should have been delicate, but they were now hideously contorted. Her skin was a sickly, deathly pale, and her mouth was smeared with dark red, unidentifiable fluids and bits of flesh.
The most terrifying thing was her eyes!
The irises of those eyes were entirely consumed by a bottomless, pure black. And in the center of that pure black, burned two pinpricks of crimson, like drops of blood!
When those inhuman eyes swept over Elara and the others lurking in the shadows, the gaze, so cold and devoid of any human emotion, made every one of them feel as if they had been plunged into an icy abyss.
However, in the very next second, those entirely black, crimson-pupiled eyes suddenly… ignited with an almost fanatical… excitement and fervor, like a predator that had just spotted delicious prey!
"Found… you…"
A hoarse voice, laced with an eerie excitement, rasped from her throat, echoing in the silent underground garage, sending shivers down their spines.