"Zombies"?

"Uh... uh..."

At that moment, quite a few people on the streets of Luojia were bleeding from their noses and mouths, their eyes vacant as they wandered about with low growls.

Whenever ordinary people passed by, they would lose control and approach them on their own initiative.

But that was all they did.

Ordinary people only needed to quicken their pace. Even if someone was surrounded, "they" would not do anything extreme. They would just...

Simply surround normal people. And with a little force, one could push "them" away and escape.

?

Though Leon was puzzled by the scene, his first reaction was to reach for his waist, unzip the utility pouch hanging at his left side, take out a filter resembling a black mask, and put it on.

Because of mosquitoes, climate, other environmental factors, and close contact with wild animals, Africa had countless infectious diseases.

Leon had heard about them from textbooks during his school days. After being transferred to the Kenya base, Krauser had strictly forbidden them from visiting local African villages, towns, or cities during leave. They could only entertain themselves within the base.

Possibly disrupting the normal lives of local residents was one reason, but the most important point was that Krauser did not want them dying from some unknown virus.

Therefore, when faced with the situation in Lojia Town, Leon first needed to ensure his own health and guard against diseases that might spread through the air. For the moment, he classified those oddly behaving "people" as "patients."

He then entered an alley and withdrew a pistol from its holster—a modified HK USP .40 fitted with an RMR red-dot sight.

The instant he took it out, he performed a one-handed chamber check.

The full name of the RMR red-dot sight Leon used was the "Ruggedized Miniature Reflex." It should have been a product developed by Wing Optics and released in 2009, but because of Atlas, it had appeared nearly thirty years early.

Just as Sui Yang had established in the company's earlier development policy, Atlas focused on researching individual equipment. Sui Yang had also relayed design concepts from before his transmigration to the R&D Department, making Atlas's products in this field truly diverse.

Atlas Tactical Innovations, or ATI, a division under Atlas, even released competition, combat, and stealth variants of popular firearms, along with related modifications. While reducing weight and improving performance, they also enhanced the guns' appearance, and offered specialized customization services to clients.

More than that, Atlas often sponsored Hollywood action and crime films, having the male and female leads, or supporting protagonists, use Atlas Tactical Innovations firearms.

This maximized the "celebrity effect" and Atlas's profits alike.

Yet Leon had not chosen one of his own company's flashy products, and even the ARS company rarely used them.

Advantages such as reduced weapon weight and ultra-light triggers suited civilian competitive settings like IPSC, but in soldiers' eyes, they represented reduced reliability and a greater risk of accidental discharge. Besides, the Investigation Department and the ARS company had dedicated gunsmiths.

At that moment.

After confirming that a round was chambered, Leon disengaged the safety, leaving the pistol ready to fire at any time before returning it to its holster.

Although those patients did not appear threatening in any way, his instincts told him that something was very wrong here. In particular, the patients' symptoms closely resembled the hypothetical enemy—an imaginary creature—they had learned about during training: "Zombies."

Pulling up his left sleeve to reveal the personal computer strapped to his forearm, Leon immediately reported the situation in Lojia Town.

Next, he used the computer to bring up a satellite overhead view. With his right index finger, he tapped and swiped across the screen, eventually confirming his own location and the route to a certain destination.

When leaving the alley, Leon did not forget to pull up the hood of his jacket, concealing his skin color as much as possible.

As he hurried toward his destination, he noticed that some patients would suddenly roll their eyes back, fall stiffly to the ground, and convulse for a while.

Only then did the local residents finally react.

But instead of attempting a rescue, they merely stood at a distance and watched.

Once the patients had completely stiffened and stopped moving, the onlooking residents would directly carry them away and toss them into grass away from the road or against a wall.

"..."

Even though Leon had been somewhat prepared, witnessing that scene still made it difficult for him to understand such casual disposal of corpses...

But on second thought, the people here simply did not have the means to acquire even basic knowledge of epidemic prevention.

He certainly had the determination to uphold justice, but improving or resolving the root of the problem was already beyond what he needed to consider.

He merely felt a little melancholy.

Moreover, the Luojia residents' accustomed reactions made Leon realize that this phenomenon had likely been going on for some time.

Next, he continued along relatively secluded roads for more than ten minutes before arriving in front of one of the few three-story reinforced concrete buildings in Lojia Town.

The ground-floor shops here displayed signs written in both English and French, including a supermarket, a barbershop, and a "club" marked by flashing pink lights and a red high heel.

Leon's target was that club, which was also open twenty-four hours a day.

But he had not gone far.

"Hey! Kid, what are you doing here?" A burly, buzz-cut man over 1.9 meters tall, with arms at least fifty centimeters around, blocked the entrance and stopped Leon.

Seeing this, Leon lowered his hood and said, "I'm here looking for work. Things have been a little tight lately."

The burly man scrutinized Leon with suspicious eyes for several moments before stepping aside and opening the door for him. "Go in. Don't cause trouble, or I won't mind cracking your head open."

"Thanks."

Thump... thump...!

The moment he stepped into the club, deafening electronic music immediately assaulted him. He saw a heavily made-up female receptionist seated behind a barred partition, with a warning sign on the window that read, "Surrender firearms."

After hesitating for a moment.

He still drew his sidearm, engaged the safety, and handed it over through the slot in the security window.

After all, this was the gathering place for freelance mercenaries that Leon had learned about from a bartender for an extra ten dollars. Only by entering could he possibly obtain high-value intelligence.

Passing through the dim corridor.

He arrived at the spacious dance floor and bar area. The first thing that caught his eye was the neon outlining the graceful figures of the women onstage, filling the place with an even stronger atmosphere of "pink" and "restlessness."

"Yeah! Shake it! Shake it!"

"Hahaha! Take one off and let everyone have a look!"

The mercenaries around the dance floor cheered wildly and spent money with abandon, venting emotions that had built up for far too long.

However, a group seated in a booth in the corner immediately caught Leon's attention. Whether in their clothing or demeanor, they were utterly out of place here.

Teachers and students?

There was an elderly man with glasses and a full head of white hair, while the other three men and one woman looked as though they had only recently left campus.

(End of chapter)