Happy New Year, everyone! Here's to hoping this year is way better than the last. Let's aim to live past 2080, or even longer!
Author's note: Come on guys write some reviews.
If you want me to continue this work, I would appreciate encouragement. Let this novel become famous! I would like you to bring power stones. If you have any advice for me, please comment so I can improve.
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A low hum of appreciation vibrated in his throat.
'So... that is Alice,' he thought, his gaze lingering longer than he cared to admit. 'I won't lie—she's attractive. No, she's hot. Strong. The kind of woman who looks like she wouldn't break easily, even in a world gone to hell.'
His enhanced vision clearly see and his mind analyzing her moves. He could see the sheen of sweat on her skin, the dilation of her pupils. She had a heroic air about her—a magnetism that pulled the eye.
Then, inevitably, his thoughts wandered.
'But...' Atlas's critical gaze narrowed. 'She is lacking in one crucial area.'
He scanned her silhouette.
'Her chest is too small. Tragically aerodynamic.'
He scoffed internally, a smirk touching his pale lips.
'If it weren't for that round, well-shaped ass of hers hugging that red dress, I might've mistaken her for a pretty boy. A very lethal pretty boy, but still.'
The thought amused him more than it should have.
But amusement faded quickly—replaced by interest.
He watched as she moved out of the Kennel, checking corners with professional paranoia.
'Impressive,' he admitted, putting his lust aside for a moment to appreciate the warrior. 'Her movements... they aren't just trained. They are enhanced. The T-Virus bonded with her differently than it did with me. She doesn't have the brute strength of a Tyrant or the regeneration of a G-Type, but her neural synapses are firing at impossible speeds.'
She was a perfect hybrid. A bond of success.
'She fights like me,' Atlas realized, a flicker of rivalry sparking in his dead heart. 'Efficient. Lethal. Unhesitating.'
But then he saw her check the magazine of her gun again.
'But she relies on guns. Cold steel and gunpowder.'
Atlas flexed his right hand.
Shing.
The silver-white bone blades slid out from his knuckles silently, catching the dim emergency light.
'Guns run out of bullets. Guns jam. Guns break. My claws? They never run out of edge. They are part of my soul.'
He stared at Alice's retreating figure, and the earlier thought returned, unbidden and persistent. The curve of her hip. The fire in her eyes.
'Why am I even thinking about this?'
He felt a stir in his lower abdomen—a phantom sensation, or perhaps something real?
Annoyed with himself, he tried to shut the thought down. 'This isn't the time. Women can wait. I have a Licker to kill and a Shop to unlock.'
But the thought refused to die. It festered, fed by the absolute freedom of his new existence.
'Wait... actually, that is a valid concern,' Atlas mused, his mind turning toward the medical reality of his situation. 'I wasn't even sure if I am capable of... functioning in this new body.'
He looked down at his grey hands. He was undead. His heart didn't beat. He didn't need oxygen.
'This body…' Atlas frowned slightly. 'I don't even know how far it still counts as human.'
The Evolution had rebuilt him. Rewritten him. His organs regenerated faster. His cells were stronger, more aggressive, more adaptable.
'Technically, erections are hydraulic events caused by blood pressure. If my heart isn't pumping, how does the mechanics work? Does the Constant Regeneration passive simulate blood flow? Or does my Neural Control allow me to manually command the blood to... specific areas?'
The questions spiraled deeper into the grotesque reality of his biology.
'And even if I can get it up... what about the payload? My fluids are literally pure, concentrated T-Virus. If I sleep with a human woman, do I infect her? Do I turn her into a zombie mid-coitus? That would be... a mood killer.'
He imagined the scenario: A night of passion ending with his partner trying to eat his face.
'And reproduction. Can I even breed? Would my children be half-zombie hybrids? Little grey monsters running around biting ankles?'
In his previous life, these questions would be insane. But here? They were logistical hurdles.
'I still feel attraction,' he admitted to himself. 'Still feel desire. That hasn't gone away.'
That meant something.
It meant he wasn't just a monster.
But thought that followed—
Atlas leaned back against a conduit pipe, staring into the dark ceiling as thought ran wild.
'I was never a man who shied away from his desires,' he thought, his expression darkening with a twisted resolve. 'In my old life, I was limited. Limited by money. Limited by laws. Limited by a mediocre body and a average face. I had to hide my lust, my ambition, my hunger.'
He clenched his silver claws into a fist.
'But now? Now I have power. I have a System that connects to the Multiverse. I have a body that is rapidly approaching handsome and strong.'
The Multiverse itself might one day be within reach.
So why should he deny himself the fullness of existence?
Power wasn't just about survival.
It was about living.
Truly living.
Desire. Lust. Love. Curiosity. Ambition.
All of it.
He saw little reason to hide his nature anymore. He wasn't a hero. He wasn't a villain. He was a force of nature.
'If I want Alice... or Ada... or anyone else... I should have them. Why shouldn't I? I have been given a second chance, a cheat code to reality. I want to fulfill every desire I suppressed. I want wealth. I want dominance. If I want a harem of the multiverse's women than so be it.'
'I don't intend to crawl through this new life pretending I'm dead inside,' he thought grimly. 'I didn't claw my way into power just to live like a monk.'
He imagined the possibilities. The System Shop surely had solutions.
'There must be items. Genetic suppressors. "Safe Sex" perks. Maybe a bloodline evolution that makes me a pure Vampire instead of a Zombie, removing the infection risk. If I gain enough V-Gold, I can rewrite my own biology to suit my needs.'
He smiled—a genuine, predatory smile.
'I will solve the problem. And then... I will take what I want.'
But he quickly shook his head, the cold steel of the facility grounding him back to the present danger.
But—
Not here.
Not now.
Atlas shook his head sharply.
"Focus, Atlas," he whispered harshly to himself. "You can think about breeding and harems when you get out of this damn place alive."
His expression hardened, the frivolous thoughts evaporating like steam. The lust was pushed down, replaced by the icy clarity of the hunt.
'Power,' he reminded himself. 'Power decides everything in this new life. There is no law higher than the bigger fist. If I am weak, I am nothing but a high-level mob for Alice to shoot. If I am strong... I make the rules.'
He had to be the biggest fist. He had to be the apex.
There was no higher law than strength.
No justice beyond what you could enforce with your own hands.
And Atlas intended to make his hands—his fist—the strongest of all.
Not just to dominate.
But to choose.
To take.
To protect.
To live without regret.
His jaw tightened as a single presence resurfaced in his awareness.
And right now, there was a specific hurdle standing between him and that power. A hurdle worth a massive amount of Experience and V-Gold.
His jaw clenched as a single name surfaced in his mind.
'I need to find that Licker... and kill it.'
The Licker was the alpha of the Hive. A mutated killing machine. To the humans, it was a nightmare.
To Atlas? It was a loot box.
He uncoiled his legs, preparing to move.
"Time to go to work," he rasped.
Atlas launched himself from the beam, disappearing into the ventilation shaft, moving not toward the exit, but deeper into the darkness where the monsters lived.
Atlas moved through the darkened maintenance tunnel with the silent grace of a phantom.
His speed was unnatural. With Agility at 18, he wasn't just running; he was flowing. He pushed off the steel walls, vaulting over steam pipes and ducking under low-hanging conduits without breaking his stride. The world around him blurred into streaks of grey and red, but his mind was perfectly clear, processing the geometry of the tunnel in high-definition.
He felt light. He felt powerful.
'I'm close,' he thought, his heartless chest swelling with anticipation. 'I can feel the vibration of the hive. The fear. The chaos.'
His feet struck the metallic flooring of the Hive in long, effortless strides, claws scraping sparks from the steel whenever he pushed off too hard. Each movement felt right now—fluid, controlled, powerful.
The stiffness that once plagued his limbs was gone, replaced by a terrifying harmony between mind and body.
Air rushed into his lungs, cold and sterile, yet he did not gasp for breath.
He didn't need to.
His stamina was endless.
But before he joined the party, he needed to know exactly what he was working with.
"Pleione," he commanded, his voice still raspy but growing stronger. "Show me my status! I need to see the numbers."
[Affirmative.]
The blue holographic screen materialized in front of him, hovering in his peripheral vision as he continued to sprint.
\\
[ STATUS WINDOW ]
Name: Atlas Cruor
Race: Infected Evolved Zombie – Undead Variant (Tier 1)
Level: 4 (50/800 EXP)
Evolution Stage: Active Mutation
[Core Attributes]
Strength: 18
Agility: 18
Stamina: ∞
Mind: 25
Status Point: 9
[Derived Stats]
Reaction Speed: 18
Regeneration: Low
Combat Instinct: 3
Mental Stability: Near Perfect
[Condition]
Hunger: None
Infection Stability: Stable.
Sanity: LOCKED
[Skills]
Neural Control (Passive), Retractable Claws (Active), Constant Regeneration (Passive)
[Evolution Traits]
Undead Zombie:
[Resources]
Evolution Points: 80
V-Gold: 1100
\\
Atlas scanned the data, his mind crunching the math instantly.
'Level 4... 50 out of 800 Experience Points. The curve is getting steeper. I need 750 EXP to hit Level 5.'
He vaulted over a dead maintenance worker, landing silently.
'The zombies are giving me diminished returns now. Grinding trash mobs is safe, but slow. If I want to unlock the Shop and get the new Body Evolutions, I need a jackpot.'
His grey eyes narrowed, focusing on the darkness ahead.
'Alright. With that Licker... it should give me enough EXP. It's an Alpha. A Boss Monster relative to this place. It had much stronger physiology. Killing it isn't just an option; it's a necessity.'
The moment the specific intent formed in his mind, a sharp chime rang out—different from the usual notification sound. It was deeper. More urgent.
[ SYSTEM ALERT: QUEST GENERATED ]
A gold-bordered window popped up, overlaying his vision.
[Quest Name: The First Apex]
Objective: Eliminate the Licker roaming the Building.
Progress: 0 / 1
Rewards:
* 1000 EXP
* 2000 V-Gold (High Value)
Penalty (Failure): None.]
Atlas stopped. He skidded to a halt, his boots carving grooves into the floor. He stared at the screen, a genuine look of surprise on his pale face.