Sever

After waiting nearly ten minutes, Professor Amrin was still staring at the display, repeating his words over and over without giving up.

"Boss, are the people inside already dead?"

Merle scratched his chin and speculated:

"Maybe some injured survivors got in there, turned into zombies, and killed everyone inside."

Leon frowned, having the same suspicion, but if that were true, he'd have taken a huge loss this time.

If such a high-profile operation yielded no results, it might undermine his authority in the eyes of his employees.

At that thought, a wave of irritation surged within him, along with a strong urge to destroy something.

Just then, a beeping sound came from inside the steel gate, and Professor Amrin shouted excitedly:

"It's open, it's open, the gate is open!"

But Leon sensed something off. If the people inside the Shelter were still normal, why wouldn't they have communicated first instead of just opening the gate?

He pulled the silenced pistol from his belt, yanked the agitated Professor Amrin to the back of the group, and called out:

"Something's wrong. Everyone on alert, prepare for combat!"

Hearing the Boss's warning, Glenn, T-Dog, Merle, and the others quickly wiped the smiles off their faces, gripping a short blade in one hand and a silenced pistol in the other, all aimed at the Shelter's gate.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!

The metal gate began slowly retracting to the right, revealing a crack. From that gap came a girl's terrified, struggling cries, a man's furious roars, and the dense, guttural snarls of countless zombies.

Leon moved to the gap and peered inside. In a spacious, modern hall, over a hundred zombies were hunting a petite girl like a pack of wolves.

The girl was incredibly agile, darting and weaving through the hall, dodging the zombies' encirclement while letting out panicked screams.

In another corner of the hall, a burly man was swinging a metal chair in a fight against the zombies. He swung it fiercely, shouting "Older sister!" with massive roars, occasionally casting worried glances at the girl in the hall.

Behind the man, beyond a glass wall, twenty or thirty haggard-looking young people clutched all sorts of odd weapons, watching the scene in the hall with anger, worry, fear, or guilt—yet none had the courage to break through that barrier and join the fight.

After twenty or thirty seconds, the girl was gradually hemmed in by the massive horde into a small space, unable to dodge as before, seemingly about to be torn apart. Meanwhile, the metal gate had only opened a gap barely wide enough for a child to squeeze through.

Leon knew he couldn't wait any longer. He raised his silenced pistol, aimed through the narrow opening by instinct at the zombies blocking the girl's path back to the gate, and pulled the trigger rapidly, emptying a magazine in seconds.

Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!

The shots had little accuracy. Only one zombie was hit in the head and collapsed; the rest struck their bodies, doing no real damage.

Still, the gunfire at least disrupted the zombies' movements a bit.

Leon didn't have time to reload. He snatched Glenn's silenced pistol, handed his own over, and started firing again.

"Run toward the gate, hug the wall, watch for stray bullets."

Leon shouted to the girl, then emptied another magazine in seconds.

This time, he hit two zombies in the head.

Without hesitation, he took T-Dog's pistol and kept aiming and firing.

As the gate's opening widened, Leon's accuracy improved. With this magazine, he killed four zombies outright, punching a small gap in their encirclement.

The girl seemed to see hope. She mustered all her strength to break through the zombie ring and run toward Leon.

But in the final moment of escape, a burly zombie grabbed her arm, bent down, and bit into her forearm.

Blood and the girl's scream made Leon's brow furrow deeply. He immediately shot the zombie's head off and called to the girl, whose face was twisted in pain and eyes growing dim:

"Get over here, quick. We can still save you."

Hearing his words, Peggy gritted her teeth. A flicker of hope for life lit her dull eyes. She clutched her wounded forearm, dodged the zombies still lunging at her, and ran desperately toward the man at the gate.

By the time she reached him, the Shelter gate had only just opened wide enough for one person to pass. Before she could speak, the tall, handsome man stepped through, grabbed her injured arm firmly, and flashed a blade in his other hand.

Peggy felt a sudden chill on her forearm, followed by searing pain. She turned to see the arm that had been with her for over twenty years severed below the elbow by that man's knife.

Leon frowned slightly, put away the fresh blade he'd pulled from Professor Amrin, tore off the professor's relatively clean white shirt, wrapped it around Peggy's gushing stump, then shoved his backpack and the nearly fainting girl onto the professor, saying:

"Amrin, she probably isn't infected yet. There are painkillers and hemostatic bandages in my bag. Treat her wound quickly—don't let her bleed out."

With that, ignoring the flustered professor, Leon stepped back from the Shelter gate's passage and said to his team:

"Time to work, boys. Hold this passage—don't let any zombies out. They're slow, so aim carefully before you shoot. Don't waste bullets."

The team acknowledged and gathered around Leon, who then assigned their firing order.

Six people, six guns, guarding a single passage—enough to create a hail of bullets. The enemies were zombies that moved straight ahead without dodging. As the zombies poured into the passage, the soft pops of silenced pistols rang out in quick succession.

Many zombies were killed by headshots and collapsed. Gradually, the bodies piled up in the passage, increasingly hindering the movement of those behind.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Thump! Thump! Thump!

The zombies' advance slowed, and the team's shooting grew more practiced.

Five minutes later, Leon and the others had used up nearly three hundred rounds. In the passage, bodies were stacked and tangled, filling the entire space.

The zombies were almost entirely wiped out—not a single moving figure remained. Stinking black blood flowed slowly, pooling into a shallow puddle.

Leon turned to look at the girl whose arm he'd severed. Her wounds were bandaged, and her pretty face was pale from blood loss.

The girl placed her right hand over her severed left arm, lifting her head to gaze into Leon's eyes with her hazy brown irises.

Peggy's eyes held a tangle of emotions, complex and unspoken. She tugged at the corner of her mouth, forcing a bitter smile, and spoke in a hoarse voice.

"Thank you, sir. You saved my life."

Leon's expression remained unchanged as he nodded faintly at the girl and said, "You're welcome, Ms."

"Now that the zombies in the Shelter have been cleared, could you please find your companions and have them clean this place up?"

"After that, we'll talk in more detail about what comes next."