Outside the library...

"Ethan, are you sure this is gonna work?" Chris swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the horde of over a hundred zombies ahead.

"Uh… we've gotta try, right? It's not every day we run into a mutated zombie." Ethan didn't sound too confident himself. The sheer number of them was enough to make anyone's stomach drop.

"Chris, why don't you just use your 'Art of the Kill' and whittle them down?" Henry suggested.

Chris gave a helpless shrug. "With this many? Even if I use 'Art of the Kill,' there's nowhere to hide. The second they swarm, I'll get knocked right out of stealth."

"So… what's the plan then?" Henry asked.

Ethan activated his [True Sight], scanning the area. His eyes lit up. "I've got an idea."

Both Henry and Chris turned to him. "What is it?"

Ethan pointed toward the back of the library. "Mirror Lake's right over there, yeah? That stone bridge in the middle—it's only about eight feet wide. If we can lure the zombies onto it, fighting them becomes way easier. We just knock them off into the lake."

"But that bridge is over three thousand feet away," Henry said, frowning. "If we get cut off by other zombies on the way, we're screwed."

"I just checked," Ethan replied. "There aren't many zombies between here and the lake. At least, not that I could see. It's far, and there are a lot of obstacles—my ability can't see everything.

So here's the plan: you and I go ahead and clear the path. Chris stays here. Once we've cleaned up most of the route, you bring the horde over.

With your current physical stats, as long as the path's clear, they won't be able to catch you."

The reason Chris was the bait was obvious—he could turn invisible. Even if something went wrong, he had a solid chance of getting out alive.

"Got it," Chris said without hesitation, nodding.

"Okay, see the one on the left? Blue T-shirt, buzz cut? That's the mutated zombie. Keep your eyes on him. The rest don't matter—just don't lose that one."

"Understood." Chris nodded again, more firmly this time.

With the plan set, Ethan and Henry headed off toward Mirror Lake.

Just like Ethan had said, the path wasn't too crowded. The two of them moved quickly, taking out every zombie they came across to make sure Chris wouldn't run into any surprises later.

Soon, they reached the lake.

It was a beautiful spot—rows of willow trees lined the shore, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. Wooden benches sat beneath them, the kind of place students used to come to read, relax, or sneak in a date. Back in the day, those benches were always occupied by couples, lost in their own little worlds.

But today, neither Ethan nor Henry had time for nostalgia. They made their way onto the stone bridge and sent Chris the signal.

Back at the library, Chris got the message. He picked up a rock, vanished into thin air, and crept toward the zombie horde.

He stopped about twenty feet away, locked eyes on the mutated zombie, and hurled the rock.

Thwack!

The stone hit the mutated zombie square in the head. No blood, but it landed hard.

"Raaagh!"

The creature let out a furious roar, and the entire horde stirred like a kicked anthill.

"Hey there!" Chris reappeared with a grin and gave a cheeky little wave.

The moment the zombies saw a living, breathing human, they lost it. The whole pack surged toward him, snarling and stumbling over each other.

The mutated zombie was especially fixated, its blood-red eyes locked onto Chris like a predator spotting prey.

Seeing the bait had taken, Chris spun on his heel and bolted.

Behind him, the horde gave chase—dozens upon dozens of undead thundering after him in a grotesque stampede. The ground trembled beneath their feet. It was a hell of a sight.

Inside the library…

"Huh? Why are the zombies leaving?" someone murmured, peeking through the crack in the door, eyes wide with surprise.

Sean rushed over, pressing his face to the gap. When he saw the horde really was moving away, he nearly shouted with joy.

"They're actually leaving. Thank God."

"Get ready," he said, turning to Big Mike and Skinny Pete. "Once they're far enough, we're getting out of here."

"Got it."

...

Outside, Chris sprinted toward Mirror Lake, a roaring tide of zombies at his heels. Thanks to Ethan and Henry clearing the path ahead of time, he didn't run into any trouble. No stragglers, no surprises.

With his enhanced physique, Chris was easily faster than the undead. He kept a steady lead, guiding them straight to the rendezvous point without breaking a sweat.

Ethan and Henry were already in position when he arrived, weapons in hand and eyes sharp.

"Nice work, Chris. You need a breather?" Ethan asked.

Chris shook his head. "Nah. That little jog didn't even warm me up."

"Alright then."

The three of them stood shoulder to shoulder at the midpoint of the narrow stone footbridge, each gripping a steel tube. At just eight feet wide, the bridge was barely enough for the three of them to hold the line.

Moments later, the horde came crashing in.

But the bridge bottlenecked them. They couldn't all rush at once. The ones in front were shoved and jostled by the ones behind, some tumbling over the low railings and splashing into the lake below.

Unfortunately, the water wasn't deep. The zombies that fell in didn't stay down for long.

One by one, the undead surged onto the bridge, clawing toward the trio.

Ethan struck first. His steel tube swept in a wide arc, knocking several zombies clean off the bridge. The railing was only about two and a half feet high—barely a barrier. With Ethan's strength, it was like swatting flies.

Chris and Henry joined in, smashing and shoving, sending zombie after zombie into the lake.

"Ha! Ethan, you genius! This plan's brilliant!" Chris laughed, adrenaline buzzing in his voice.

"Way easier than hacking through them one by one," Henry added, grinning.

"Yeah… don't celebrate just yet," Ethan said, his tone suddenly grim.

"What now?"

"Look down."

The other two leaned over the railing—and their faces twisted in disbelief.

"What the hell?! They can swim?!"

Below, the zombies that had fallen in were paddling awkwardly toward shore. Not quite swimming, really—their heads stayed submerged, arms flailing more out of instinct than coordination. But it worked.

And since they didn't need to breathe, drowning wasn't a concern.

"Are you kidding me? So we're just wasting our time knocking them off?" Chris groaned.

Ethan let out a long sigh. "Yeah… didn't see that coming. I figured once they hit the water, that'd be it. Guess not."

"So much for the shortcut," Henry muttered.

"No choice now. We kill them the old-fashioned way," Ethan said, resigned.

"Fine," Chris muttered, shaking his head with a wry smile.

The three of them shifted tactics. No more sweeping strikes—they switched to stabbing, driving their steel tubes straight into skulls and eye sockets.

It was messy, exhausting work. But with the high ground and the narrow bridge, they had the advantage. The zombies came at them in a funnel, and the trio cut them down one by one.

Blood slicked the stone beneath their feet. The bridge turned red.

After dispatching over thirty of the undead, the mutated zombie finally made its move.

It barreled onto the bridge, eyes glowing red, muscles bulging beneath rotting flesh.

Ethan stepped forward, gripping his steel tube tight. He braced, then lunged—driving the weapon straight into the creature's skull.

The resistance was brutal. The mutated zombie's bone was thick, its skull like concrete. But Ethan had eaten his second crystal. His strength had surged again.

With a roar, he forced the steel tube through.

The mutated zombie jerked once, then collapsed, dead before it hit the ground.

One strike. That was all it took.

...

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