Hunter's Game 2: Zombie Paradise - Chapter 4

“A mission is now being issued. A black briefcase is located in the second-floor room where the light just came on. Players must infiltrate the factory and retrieve it.”

“Warning: every worker inside the factory has turned. There are forty-three zombies in total.”

“Players must eliminate all zombies.”

“Complete the mission within one hour, or the system will spawn additional zombies.”

A violent shudder ran through me. I looked stiffly at the other players.

Every face had taken on a grayish cast.

Even Gamer Lin, who had cheered so excitedly earlier, could not stop himself from shivering when he saw those twisted shadows.

Suddenly, a hand clamped down on my shoulder.

I jumped and instinctively swung the ice axe, only for the other person to catch it.

“Senior, are you trying to rob and murder me? You almost brained me!”

It was Chen Lang.

I breathed out hard in relief. Before I could curse him, he vaulted neatly out of the cart.

“I’ll take point. Follow me.”

Holding his duckbill hammer ready, Chen Lang crept toward the half-open iron gate.

Once someone had taken the lead, the rest of us summoned our courage and climbed out one after another.

I stayed close to the group.

Creeeak…

The iron gate shifted.

A wind from nowhere swept old newspapers across the ground toward us.

By the weak light, I could make out a bold black headline.

CHEMICAL PLANT LEAK KILLS EVERY WORKER—OFFICIAL STORY IN DOUBT!

Something stirred in my mind. I picked up one of the papers and stuffed it into my pocket.

At that moment, a rotting face emerged from behind one of the large crates.

Then came a second. A third…

Seven or eight zombies shuffled toward us in a ragged line.

The moment they caught the scent of living flesh, they accelerated and charged.

“Aaaargh… uhhhh!”

Thud!

Thud!

Chen Lang met them with his duckbill hammer, crushing the skulls of the first two with one clean blow apiece.

More zombies flooded out of the darkness.

The players raised their cold weapons—machetes, axes, crowbars, ice axes—and brought them down on zombie heads.

Wet impacts erupted everywhere. Brains sprayed through the air, and the nauseating reek of blood spread around us.

Watching how gleefully they hacked and smashed, I realized I might be the only weakling here.

No coward would have dared enter this game.

Even the refined-looking Fang Shuyan moved with a vicious edge as he swung his katana.

Then three zombies rounded a crate and lunged at me, howling.

I aimed at one and swung the ice axe with all my strength. Its skull burst open.

But the axe lodged in the bone. I could not pull it free!

The other two zombies knocked me down. Their fetid mouths plunged toward my neck.

A black shape flashed through the darkness and sent one of them flying three meters with a kick.

At the same instant, a burly man split the zombie pinning me with his axe.

In the blink of an eye, both zombies were down. Cold sweat poured over me.

I scrambled upright and felt my neck. Thank God I had not been bitten. That had been far too close.

The man who had kicked the first zombie away was my junior, Chen Lang.

The burly player was Qin Wu. Well over six feet tall, he stood like an iron tower as he swung his axe at another charging zombie.

I yanked the ice axe free, hooked it at my waist, and drew my suppressed pistol. Six rounds were already chambered in the cylinder.

I released the safety and fired three shots into the approaching zombies.

Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!

Two died. The third took a bullet in the chest, swayed, then kept coming as if nothing had happened.

Whoosh!

A crossbow bolt struck it square in the face. At last, the zombie toppled sideways.

I flicked a glance at the shooter. He was tall and thin, and if I remembered correctly, his name was Han Zhong.

By then, the ten of us had killed most of the zombies outside the factory.

Only a scattered few remained. Some fell to Chen Lang’s hammer, others to Han Zhong’s crossbow, and Gamer Lin beat one to death with a crowbar.

Our earpieces sounded again.

“The zombies in the courtyard have been eliminated. Twenty-five minutes remain. Enter the factory immediately. Warning: eighteen zombies are still inside.”

Chen Lang and Qin Wu took point, entering back-to-back so they could cover each other.

We followed close behind.

Two zombies met us at the entrance. Chen Lang and Qin Wu dispatched them cleanly.

Around the corner, we found the staircase to the second floor.

“Senior, Qin Wu, Han Zhong—you three come upstairs with me to find the briefcase. The other six handle the zombies on the first floor.”

Chen Lang stopped at the foot of the stairs to assign the teams.

“All right.”

Everyone knew time was short. No one wasted words; weapons ready, they set to their tasks.

Pistol in hand, I followed the other three upstairs.

After that last clash, I understood my true level perfectly: my combat ability really was pathetic. The ice axe did not suit me. A pistol was far more practical.

I suddenly regretted not listening to Chen Lang the day before and choosing two more guns.

While my thoughts wandered, a female zombie appeared on the stairs. She was on all fours, rump in the air, gnawing on a human leg.

One swing of Chen Lang’s hammer burst her skull.

We continued upward and reached the second floor.

Five zombies drifted through the corridor.

At the sound of us, they groaned and surged forward.

I started to raise my pistol, but Chen Lang held me back.

“Senior, don’t waste your ammunition. Leave these to me.”

I knew what he could do. I lowered the gun and warned him to be careful.

With a smile, Chen Lang handed me his hammer and sniper rifle to lighten his load.

Then he drew the combat knife from his back.