Police cars and ambulances were haphazardly jammed at the hospital's main entrance. Fully armed paramilitary police, shields raised, were retreating outward as a swarm of zombies surged forward. They clambered over car roofs, vaulted roadblocks; bullets pierced their bodies, yet only made them stagger momentarily before they roared furiously and pressed onward.
Gunfire intensified, and amidst the hail of bullets, some zombies took fatal headshots and collapsed lifelessly.
"Aim for the head! No other places!"
More zombies surged from the front, and the gates, unable to withstand the pressure, swayed precariously.
"Abandon the gates! Fall back!"
The hospital entrance was utterly overrun; zombies dashed wildly in every direction. Dennis' face drained of color, his hands trembling.
"Go sit by the side," Eric urged him, resuming to pry open a window.
Through the gunfire, Eric and Taylor pried at the iron mesh until a hole just large enough for a crouched person to slip through appeared.
"Someone's coming!" Dennis exclaimed.
They hastily pulled the curtains and recalibrated their positions on the bed. The dismantled bed was farthest inside; Eric casually drew the curtain to shield the bed behind him.
The door remained mostly shut, only the small upper observation window opened briefly to slide in three bags before locking again.
"It's water and bread, one bag per person," Taylor said as he picked up the parcels.
Eric took his share, finding two red bean buns and two cartons of milk inside. He opened one carton first and began drinking.
Dennis, ravenous, devoured a bun in a few bites and was about to start on the second when Taylor advised, "Save that for later. The hospital has fallen; the next meal might not come for a while."
Indeed, they waited until nightfall without another meal arriving.
By dusk, the gunfire had ceased completely. Pressing close to the window to listen, all they could hear were thuds of zombies battering the doors. Their high floor dulled the sounds' clarity.
Outside the corridor, rapid footsteps often echoed, yet no matter how they called, no one responded.
"I wonder how Jerry is doing... he must be safe, right?" Dennis worried aloud.
"He should be fine. Perhaps he has already found clues about the light zone," Taylor replied. "Hey, are you asleep yet?"
"…Hmm, what is it?" Eric, dozing in a twilight state between sleep and wakefulness, opened her eyes and sat up.
"That hole there—" Taylor pointed to the window, "how about we sneak out and scout around?"
Dennis was startled. "It's pitch dark!"
"That's precisely why. If the NPCs spot us, they might move us to another room and lock us up again."
Eric considered briefly, then nodded. "Alright."
"Woah, you're so brave!" Dennis exclaimed in shock. Old players really take such risks!
That's what veteran players are like.
Clues do not appear by chance; one must exert effort to obtain them.
Eric volunteered to be the scout. Taylor asked, "What's with your condition...? I hesitated to ask before—please don't feel offended if you'd rather not answer."
"No problem. It's a side effect of a dungeon. In that dungeon, players were treated as test subjects. After clearing it, my physical symptoms lingered," Eric said nonchalantly, even smiling. "It's much better now. At first, it was severe; after doing several runs, it has greatly diminished."
After completing the Eden dungeon and returning to the inn for a bath, Eric noticed her fur had thinned considerably, her human skin reemerging, and the beastliness in her eyes fading. Of course, her mutated traits were also waning; she estimated that after a few more dungeons, she might fully recover normalcy, albeit losing the "advantages" mutation afforded.
"What kind of dungeon is that? Sounds intense."
"Beast Fighting Lab," she replied tersely.
There was no time for further talk. Taylor watched ruefully as Eric climbed out the window. The room's lights were extinguished; Eric's night vision was diminished but remained usable.
After slipping through the hole in the iron mesh, she cautiously scanned her surroundings by subtly bending and stretching.
Half the rooms in this block were still brightly lit.
They were on the thirteenth floor; four more floors towered above. She shifted sideways, then, gathering strength, leapt suddenly onto the adjacent windowsill.
"Wow! Who are you, and how are you so formidable? This is the thirteenth floor!"
Someone from the quarantine room hurried over, eyes wide with amazement as they surveyed Eric.
"Are you quarantined as well?" Eric feigned ignorance.
"Yes! So unfortunate! We barely escaped from those lunatics, yet the police insisted we might be infected with the madness and forced us into quarantine! Hey, you're incredible—are you planning to sneak away?"
An NPC expressed concern, "Be careful, this is the thirteenth floor!"
Another NPC remarked, "Quarantine isn't so bad. Haven't you seen what's happening outside? A horde of madmen has swarmed the hospital; they don't even fear police bullets. It's terrifying."
"Thank you for your concern. I'm from the acrobat troupe, so I'm not afraid of heights. No one came to deliver food tonight, and fearing trouble, I decided to check around," Eric replied with a smile.
Observing her face, the NPCs finally understood. "Oh, so you're from the acrobat troupe—no wonder you're so skillful. Still, be cautious. Oh, and be wary of the next room; the occupants seem to have gone mad. They were screaming at dusk but have since fallen silent."
"Understood. I'll be careful." Eric bade them farewell and, with practiced ease, leaped onto another room's windowsill. As she clambered onto the iron mesh, a heavy breathing caught her attention.
The room's lights were off, the window ajar, curtains drawn much like the neighboring room's.
The respiration came from behind the curtain—there lurked a beast in ambush.
Danger!
Eric resolved to leave immediately. From arrival to departure, barely three seconds elapsed. At the instant she leapt away, a pair of bloodied hands suddenly lunged from behind the curtain.
They grasped only at the external iron mesh, the sharp nails scraping against the metal with a tearing sound.
"Huff… huff…"
The curtain bulged, revealing a human visage slowly stained with blood at the mouth's location.
Eric landed on the adjacent windowsill and called back. As she glanced over her shoulder, she glimpsed the hands pulling fiercely at the iron mesh—undoubtedly not human. That quarantine room had long since fallen.
"Are you alright?"
Taylor had just slipped out the window, lowering his voice anxiously.
"I'm fine. Be careful—some rooms might harbor zombies," Eric warned.
"Got it." Taylor chose a different route towards the rooftop.
Eric swiftly scouted the entire thirteenth floor, discovering it entirely comprised quarantine wards. Over half of the occupants had transformed into zombies. Alarm bells rang in her mind—so many zombies confined here, yet no one came to tend to them?
Where were the doctors? The police?
She resolved to descend and investigate.
The twelfth floor was similarly quarantined, echoing the thirteen's conditions. Only upon reaching the eleventh floor did Eric encounter medical staff.
Through a gap in the curtains, she saw a meeting underway inside. The attendees' expressions were grave; though voices were hushed, their discourse was heated, evidently embroiled in fierce debate.
The door opened as armed police entered, bearing grim tidings. One doctor sagged into a chair, utterly spent, before everyone filed out—forgetting to extinguish the lights. Eric strained to hear but caught no clear word, remaining ignorant of the crisis unfolding.
Below, the undead relentlessly battered the main gate—how long could it hold? Eric descended two more floors without uncovering helpful clues; reluctantly, she returned to her room.
Dennis rushed over, voice trembling with relief, "I thought something terrible had happened to you!" Tugging Eric inside. Entering the ward, Eric inquired, "Has Taylor returned yet?"
"No—I'm so scared all alone." Dennis clung tightly to Eric's hand, trembling noticeably. Eric gently withdrew her hand and resumed resting on the bed.
"Do you know what my first dungeon was?" Eric asked.
"W-what?"
"I appeared trapped in a hotel room; the door was locked, and fire raged outside. I had no choice but to escape through the window—but the room was on the ninth floor."
Dennis gasped, "Then how did you clear it?"
"I fashioned a rope from bed sheets, but it was too short. I ended up dropping several floors, nearly losing my life. Only after using a medical kit did I recover." Eric empathized deeply—this ordeal was indeed hard to accept. But a day had passed; Dennis's mindset needed strengthening. "You must quickly adapt to this escape-dungeon game."
Dennis despondently confessed, "I…I feel like I'm dreaming."
"Do you think it's a nightmare or a sweet dream?"
"Despite being able to revive, this dungeon is absurd—how can zombies, such movie monsters, exist here?"
Eric nestled a pillow behind her back, exhaling comfortably, "I even encountered dinosaurs. The more you see, the more you get used to it."
Having said enough, Eric closed her eyes to rest after her exhausting excursion. Seeing this, Dennis dared not speak further, sitting silently. Soon, Taylor returned, and Dennis went to greet him.
Taylor's first words upon entering were, "Has the girl returned?"
Before Dennis could reply, Eric's voice came from the bed, "I'm back."
Click. The room lights flicked on. Taylor scanned the sight of Eric sitting on the bed, fearing she might be injured.
"I'm not hurt—just tired and resting. I scouted down to the ninth floor; many wards already contained zombies. Some windows were sealed, so I couldn't investigate thoroughly," Eric said with a wry smile. "Honestly, I didn't find any useful leads this trip."
"No, no, no! Your footage combined with mine will absolutely ensure smooth clearance!" Taylor's excitement was palpable. "You made it to the ninth floor—did you notice anything unusual about certain rooms? See, I took the path upwards. With my poor stamina, I couldn't check every room floor by floor and just pushed to the rooftop. Want to know what I saw there?"
Taylor's tongue felt dry, eyes sparkling with exhilaration, his voice barely containing excitement. Eric and Dennis watched him intently as he exclaimed, "The helipad!"