Someone is alive in there?
Blaze tilted his head when he saw a man peeking out of a window. As if that weren’t strange enough, the man had a beer can in his hand.
The person wasn’t alive; he was living in luxury.
However, the thing that interested Blaze most was the badge around Voss’s neck. Someone who worked at the institute was certainly a valuable asset.
He smiled, but Voss couldn’t see it under the chitin mask. From his side, it looked like Blaze was marking him as a target. Technically, he wasn’t wrong.
Voss backed away, shutting the window. He was terrified of what he had seen and wanted to escape. The question was... where?
Just because the undead weren’t inside the facility didn’t mean every place was safe. The director’s office was by far the safest place for him.
In his weakened state, he couldn’t lift the table or the cupboard full of awards. Potted plants and everything small were the only things he could lift. All of which he promptly dumped on the doorstep.
"That should be enough..." he panted, before slumping next to the blockade.
Meanwhile, Blaze kept staring at the window while zombies killed one another.
A zombie hit the ground, its head intact. It looked at Blaze and growled, trying to reach for him.
Freshly out of Necrolink’s influence, it wanted to kill Blaze.
A walker... I can’t believe how weak they seem now.
With that thought, Blaze stomped on its head, killing it. Then he squatted next to it, looking for something in its scrambled brains.
It was a grain-sized nucleus.
After a little under two weeks, even the weakest zombies had begun gathering evolution materials. The small nucleus was proof of it.
Unfortunately, the system wouldn’t allow Blaze to progress from consuming the nuclei.
Who said it was written in stone?
The delicate nucleus cracked under the slightest pressure, turning into powder. Then he sprinkled it on top of the undead’s scrambled brain like seasoning before scooping it up.
Blaze looked at the window once again to ensure it was shut and then lifted his mask. Then took huge bites of the gooey flesh.
It wasn’t a delicacy by any means. Even for his undead tastebuds.
However, it was the key to his evolution, and that was enough.
[Subject J#117’s evolution rate increased to 87.2%]
[Greed wasn’t triggered.]
[No abilities/traits/mutations unlocked.]
Perhaps it was a glitch in the system, but Blaze found a loophole. If he consumed brain matter sprinkled with powdered nucleus, then the hunger sub-effect crossed the 1% evolution rate limit per prey he consumed.
Blaze had discovered it accidentally minutes before. He knew the collective would be quick to fix it, and that’s why he acted fast.
Instead of hunting the undead individually, he caused a ruckus to get their attention and began slaughtering them.
At first, he killed the zombies alone, but the process was too slow. So he used the necrolink to hasten the process.
With each bite he took, his mind went hazy. Countless memories flooded his brain, yet he refused to stop.
Even a second was too precious to dwell on unnecessary memories that came with each bite.
[Subject J#117’s evolution rate increased to 100%]
[Proceeding with Sentinel Evolution...]
At last... You want to stop me from evolving? Dream on...
Even though Blaze said that, he was the one to fall on the ground. His vision went black again.
The familiar feeling of drowsiness greeted him for the second time since he had turned into a zombie.
He called it evolution sickness. Strangely, it only seemed to happen to him since Fester evolved without falling asleep.
It happened the first time he evolved. The same is happening again.
Only this time, he was prepared.
As his knees hit the ground, the ground broke apart. Fester peeked out of the hole.
Blaze smiled as he fell into the hole. Fester caught him by the collar and dragged him further inside.
After all, it was safer to be comatose underground than overground.
Meanwhile, back at the naval base...
"You want to head where?" Michael asked, frowning.
"The research institute," Alaric replied, not noticing Michael’s annoyed expression.
One couldn’t blame Michael. The rodent attacks haven’t stopped even for a minute. His hands were full of that, especially when Neha had taken half the awakened for a debriefing for tomorrow’s mission.
Managing the crowd was already difficult, and now Alaric had the bright idea to leave the base.
"...to get proper equipment—" Alaric said, fixing his glasses.
"With all due respect," Alaric interrupted. "Kitchen knives aren’t made for research."
Michael threw his hands up. He wanted to punch the old man right in the face, but held back. Neha had told him Alaric was the most important person on the base, apart from the chosen.
That made Alaric untouchable, even by him.
However, this request was something he couldn’t grant.
With limited personnel, he couldn’t send anyone with Alaric. Letting him leave with no protection was also out of the question.
It wasn’t a matter of what Alaric or Michael wanted. It was simply impossible to let him leave the base.
"You can’t leave," Michael said, making things clear. "Give me a list of things and I’ll send a team over to bring them."
"It is better for me to accompany them as the quality of equipment differs—"
"You’re pushing your luck here, doc."
Michael lost his patience, but didn’t lash out. However, he had to send a clear message.
"Our resources are stretched thin," Michael continued. "I need you to understand that. You have been of great help to us, but that doesn’t mean I can throw everything I have to please you."
Alaric got quiet, then nodded and left.
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the situation. It only showed his desperation.
He knew they were planning a big operation, and there was a chance they might fail. It would lead to even more resource scarcity.
Alaric only wanted to get what he needed before that happened.
"I’ll have to talk to Neha. She understands me better than anyone."