Alex ducked, narrowly avoiding the punch aimed straight at his face. He barely had time to breathe before his opponent's leg whipped toward his ribs. Knowing he wouldn't be able to evade it, he braced for impact.
With a subtle twist of his hips, he managed to soften the blow, saving his ribs from what would have been a clean break. Ignoring the throbbing pain, Alex instantly seized his opponent's still-raised leg. The man had no time to react before Alex slammed a devastating strike into his knee, sending him crashing to the mat.
Sensing the chance to end the fight, Alex stepped over him and unleashed a merciless barrage of punches, raining blow after blow onto the poor bastard who hadn't managed to put up a proper defense.
Ignoring the referee's screams as he rushed toward them, Alex kept pummeling his opponent long after the man had already lost consciousness.
He only stopped when he felt the referee's arms slip beneath his shoulders in a futile attempt to drag him away from the body sprawled on the ground. Though he knew he could have broken free easily, Alex let himself be pulled back. The referee released him almost at once to check on the fighter lying motionless below.
Seeing no sign of consciousness, he immediately declared Alex the winner by knockout before waving the medics into the cage.
While everyone else scrambled into action, Alex savored his victory. The small crowd roared in ecstasy, and the announcer drowned him in praise, calling him the strongest man under the heavens while listing off his ridiculous record.
"Oh yes, it's him!!! Who else could dominate his opponents like this? Who else could seize the champion's title!!!!!"
"Make some noise for the strongest man in the world, Alex Croÿ!"
…
A little later, in a dark room lit by a single lamp hanging from the ceiling:
"Here's your pay for the fight, Alex. Congratulations. You earned it," said a broad-shouldered man in a suit.
He took a slow pull on his cigar before continuing in a greasy voice.
"Three million euros in cash, just like we agreed before the match. I also threw in a little bonus—two hundred thousand—for the incredible show you put on for our distinguished guests."
Seated in a comfortable armchair across from the man's desk, Alex leaned aside to avoid the acrid smoke drifting toward him.
"Thank you, Ray. You know what my situation's been like lately. This money's going to help me solve a few problems," he replied humbly.
"Hm."
Ray studied him in silence for a few seconds.
"Well, you know... if you still need money, a few of the families who watched your performance tonight would be willing to put a lot more on the table if you got one of their daughters pregnant."
Locking eyes with him, he kept talking, clearly trying to push him into saying yes.
"Trust me, they're far from unpleasant to look at. Some of them are even models. You'd have everything to gain—good times with bombshells, plenty of cash, and maybe one of them would even agree to marry you. Change your status for good."
A flicker of hesitation passed through Alex's eyes.
"I need more time," he said. "I'll give you an answer later, if the offer still stands by then."
Silence settled between the two men before Ray rose, coughing.
"Well then, we'll see each other again when that time comes... Goodbye, Alex."
Alex stood as well, gave Ray a nod, and left through one of the building's emergency exits.
A heavy downpour greeted him the moment he stepped outside. Not equipped for the weather, he pulled up the hood of his hoodie and took off through the dark alleys of one of Brussels's rougher neighborhoods.
Once he reached a broader avenue, he flagged down a cab and climbed in, soaking the previously dry interior. The driver took one look at him and spoke in an annoyed voice.
"Hey, man. Where to?"
"Near the canal. Cureghem."
"That's twenty-five euros in cash right now, or you can get out."
Soon, the yellow cab was slicing through the streets of Brussels. Inside, Alex watched the capital drift by through rain-streaked windows. Lost in thought, he kept replaying the events of the past year, wondering how his life could have taken such a dramatic turn.
His chest tightened as he remembered where all this shit had started. How something so innocent could have turned his peaceful days into an increasingly dangerous chase for money...
At that thought, his eyes dropped to the bag of cash on his lap. What he'd earned tonight would undoubtedly let him move on. He could pay for his sister's treatment, clear his debts, and buy the beautiful country house he'd dreamed about when he was younger.
He turned his gaze back to the world outside and began thinking about the future, about what he was going to become, when suddenly—
Screeech—boom!
The taxi lurched to a violent stop. Ahead of them, a bus had plowed straight into the cars waiting at the light.
Inside the bus, all hell seemed to have broken loose. People were screaming bloody murder and tearing into each other as if the crash that had just happened didn't matter at all.
Still stunned by the impossible scene unfolding before him, Alex forced himself out of the taxi, intending to help any injured victims from the accident.
The thunderous rain drenched him the second he stepped outside. A bolt of lightning ripped across the sky half a second after his foot hit the ground. Worried that defenseless people might have gotten trapped in the chaos inside the bus, he quickened his pace and headed toward the rear doors, which had just swung open.
An elderly woman lay unconscious, half-sprawled between the bus and the wet asphalt.
"Ma'am? Ma'am, can you hear me?"
When she didn't respond, he looked inside the bus, hoping someone could help him take care of her.
What he saw filled him with dread.
Death.
Bodies sprawled lifeless across the floor—that was all that remained in the back half of the bus. And the sounds coming from the front were growing fewer and fewer...
Horrified, he fumbled for his phone.
And at that exact moment, one of the corpses—a body whose head had twisted a full one hundred and eighty degrees—suddenly moved.
Its head slowly turned back into a normal angle.
And its pitch-black eyes locked onto him.
Terrified, Alex tried to step back.
But the grandmother he'd thought was dead had clamped a hand around his ankle, yanking him down onto the road.
Her eyes were identical to the creature's inside the bus.
Pain shot through his ankle a split second later. No old woman should have had that kind of grip strength.
Another bolt of lightning struck somewhere nearby, flooding the dark street with white light.
To his right, near the main entrance, several creatures were feasting on a girl who couldn't have been more than eighteen or nineteen.
And in that moment, one thought hit him:
"Zombies?? These are fucking zombies."