Poppy was leaning against one of the gaming tables, watching Jack eat a brain. She was shocked at first, no longer knowing where to look. She started to turn around, then left the casino.
Jack had expected it, but if she was following him, she would have discovered it sooner or later. Jack calmly finished before leaving the casino, taking a bottle of whisky with him.
« My only comfort… along with brains, hehe. »
Jack stepped out of the casino, taking a big gulp of whisky.
« Too bad I can't get drunk. »
« But I can! »
Kissing his bottle, he ended up standing in front of Poppy, who was waiting for him outside. She stepped closer, took the bottle, drank a very small sip, then handed it back to him.
« Poppy? Why did you wait for me, you clearly saw that I'm a monster? »
« I left because it wasn't very, let's say, pleasant to watch. And if you hadn't been there, I would have died at the hands of humans before being raped—so following a monster seems like a better choice to me. »
Jack didn't have much to say, not knowing what to reply. Instead, he asked a question.
« By any chance, would you know where I can find the boss? »
Poppy chuckled at Jack's words. « I have a vague idea. Want me to take you there? »
Jack looked Poppy straight in the eyes before scratching his head. « Sure. »
Poppy moved ahead, leading the way. Jack followed her without saying a word. They crossed the next arcade, the essential services one. Wherever Jack looked, he only saw pharmacies, opticians, banks—and even some old phone booths, working or not.
« You mentioned a "partner" earlier. Who's your girlfriend? »
Jack laughed instinctively.
« Puaaahhhh, me with that bat, never. Ah sorry—my bad. No, she's just my teammate. »
Poppy was moving slowly, which annoyed Jack.
« Excuse me. » Jack picked Poppy up and put her on his back, moving in the direction she had been heading.
Sometimes Poppy pointed the way for Jack. Along the route, Jack deliberately avoided any fights despite the rather large number of junkies getting high in the pharmacies.
« So what exactly are you, to eat brains? »
Jack didn't care about revealing what he was. « A zombie. »
« Ah, a zombie, I see. And your teammate? »
« You'll have to ask her yourself—though I wouldn't recommend it. »
Jack finally exited that arcade, this time entering the restaurant arcade. Poppy pointed out a direction, which he followed.
« Normally, this is where you're likely to run into the boss of this place. »
Jack didn't speak, simply asking a question.
« How can you know that? And why do you keep showing me the way and following me when you know perfectly well that it's dangerous? »
« Only now you're asking? I worked for the boss of this place before locking myself inside my shop. So I know his habits. And for the last question—I don't really have a choice… the safest place right now is staying close to you. »
Poppy pointed to a restaurant. In front of it lay a multitude of bodies. Jack couldn't say how long they had been dead, but he could easily suspect this place.
« Thanks, Poppy. You can go now. »
Poppy looked at the restaurant's façade, then picked up a weapon from the ground—a Glock.
« You didn't listen to me. The safest place is being close to you. »
Jack didn't pay attention. After all, if she wanted to risk her life, that was her choice.
Jack entered the restaurant. In front of him sat a single man of a certain build—let's say fat. He was calmly eating, several dead men around him, all of them unrecognizable.
The man kept eating, not even acknowledging Jack's arrival.
« Slurp, slurp, slurp. » The man was making an incredible amount of noise while eating. Jack walked toward him. Poppy stayed back. Jack placed his hands on the table, set down his bottle of whisky, and asked:
« You're the boss of this place! »
The man finished his plate by devouring it in a few seconds, placing the empty plate on the huge pile next to him.
« And you must be the son of a bitch who's killing my men!! » At the same moment, the man flipped the table and tried to grab Jack.
Jack dodged backward and pulled out his walkie-talkie to warn Yumiel. The man saw Jack take it out and kicked the table, launching it at full speed, slamming into Jack and making him drop the walkie-talkie.
The table crashed into the wall with Jack behind it, embedded in it. Pushing the table away with his feet, Jack rushed for the walkie-talkie and grabbed it. Jack pressed the button on the side of the device, but just as he was about to warn Yumiel, the man crushed Jack's hand under his foot—and the walkie-talkie with it.
« A-aaah… nah, I'm kidding, I don't feel anything. »
Jack's right hand was under the man's foot. Jack pulled out his Glock with his left hand, aiming at the man's head. The man reacted by crushing Jack's other hand with his other foot.
« And now? »
Poppy was still there, but didn't dare intervene, hesitating at times—everything was happening far too fast. She didn't have time to think, only to watch the scene.
« Now? I'm going to show you a trick from an old friend. »
Jack broke the limits of his right arm, easily freeing himself from the pressure of the man's foot and grabbing it instead. This destabilized the man, making him lose his balance. Jack stood back up, holding the man's leg while he was now on the ground, then hurled him into the air, smashing through the ceiling.
But Jack wasn't done. Picking up his Glock from the floor, he fired at the man still in midair, emptying the entire magazine. After that, Jack tore off the arm of one of the many dead men, detached his own right arm, and fused with the new one before picking up his bottle of whisky, whose contents were almost entirely spilled across the floor.
The man hit the ground at the same time Jack picked up his bottle, with a massive « Boom », destroying the restaurant floor.
Jack drank the last drop left in the bottle before seeing the man stand back up, visibly healing from the bullet wounds, the bullets being pushed out of his body. However, that wasn't the most shocking part—the most shocking thing was that he was gradually losing weight before their eyes.
Becoming nothing more than a stick, going from several hundred kilos down to around sixty in a matter of moments.