As the monster's gaping maw lunges toward you, you instinctively thrust your dagger into its abdomen. A warning screams in your mind: "Damn it! She said physical attacks don't work!" Your hesitation gives the beast an opening, its jagged teeth grazing your skin.
At the last second—
"Hah!" Zhao Ming plants her feet, channeling her strength into a sidelong swing of her scythe. The purple blade flashes, cleaving straight through the monster's mouth!
Clang!
The impact reverberates as Zhao Ming pins the creature—and the already flimsy wooden door—to the frame with ferocious force, splintering the wood. She grabs her suitcase with one hand and your arm with the other, yanking you out of the control room.
The corridor floor is unnaturally slick, each step like skating on ice. You and Zhao Ming stumble forward, barely keeping your balance.
Strangely, the hallway—once teeming with monstrous roars and pounding footsteps—is now eerily empty, save for the echo of your frantic steps. "Why's the floor so slippery?" you shout, struggling to stay upright.
Even in flat shoes, every stride feels like a misstep on a waxed dance floor.
"I don't know!" Zhao Ming gasps. "It was just damp when I got here—now it's like someone poured oil!" Ahead, a sliver of light pierces the darkness at the corridor's end—an exit! Maybe someone's there!
In silent agreement, you both sprint toward the light. But behind you, heavy thuds and skidding noises close in fast. Worse, the oily floor no longer slows the pursuer. The footsteps grow rapid, accompanied by bone-chilling growls.
You sense something furry brushing against your legs, its panting hot and close.
"It's crawling now! Run faster—it's right there!" you scream. Neither you nor Zhao Ming dare look back or down, fixated on the glowing salvation ahead. A silhouette stands in the light, tall and sharp-edged.
She's a striking figure: long purple hair cascading over a white shirt and glossy vest, paired with blindingly bright orange pants. Square glasses frame her glinting green eyes. She raises a flamethrower, its barrel glowing red as it warms up.
You and Zhao Ming dive to the side just in time. The monster chasing you bursts into the light, crawling on all fours. Its mouth splits to its ears, the right side of its jaw grotesquely detached, blood oozing from the wound. Its form is disturbingly human-like. Blinded by the light, it flinches.
Boom!
The woman fires without hesitation. Flames engulf the monster, its piercing shrieks tearing through the air as its body hardens and chars, crumbling into a heap of ash.
"That was reckless!" Zhao Ming coughs, shielding you from the toxic smoke billowing from the burning remains. "You nearly roasted us too!" She glares at the woman, who's already donned a gas mask, her expression hidden.
The woman lowers the flamethrower and draws a slender sword from the fuel canister's side, advancing toward you. Zhao Ming's scythe is still lodged in the control room door, and your trembling dagger feels useless against her. You both lock eyes with this masked figure, who removes her mask to reveal a mocking smirk.
"Ladies, step aside. You're not my target," she says, her sword lazily pointing to the side, urging you to clear the way. You and Zhao Ming shuffle back, but she still seems unsatisfied.
"What's with that dog thing clinging to you?" Her sword snaps toward you. You glance down, heart lurching. A golden-furred creature with a human-like head trails your every move. Caught in the open, it crouches low, tail wagging furiously, letting out a plaintive "woo-woo" as it presses close to you.
"So that was part of the footsteps chasing us?!" you mutter, staring at the creature with a mix of shock and confusion.
The woman—Jia De—lunges at the beast, but it dodges with uncanny agility, her sword slicing only air. It even flashes a grin, almost taunting her.
"If I can't hit it," Jia De snarls, her sword suddenly aimed at your throat, "I'll just deal with its master!" You raise your dagger to parry, earning a derisive snort from her.
"Look over there," she says, nodding toward another corridor. You and Zhao Ming glance over, and the sight stops you cold. Unlike the path you fled, this hallway is littered with smoldering ash piles and mangled remains—some torn apart by monsters, but others, clad in Hengshi Precision's reflective uniforms, bear clean, precise wounds to their necks or torsos. These weren't monster kills.
This woman isn't one of the company's employees.
You stare at her, this ruthless killer with a casual smirk. "Don't be so dramatic," she says, twirling her sword in a flashy arc, her tone as light as if discussing the weather. "If I hadn't slicked the floor with oil, that thing would've caught you. You should be thanking me—though, to be fair, those monsters were following my orders to 'clean up' this place."