Ruthless Kill

Waves upon waves of walkers were drawn by the police siren, lining up as they surged towards the control room.

Ma Ruiqi cursed loudly and led her people towards the control room, following the sound. However, along the way, others were constantly distracted by the walkers that were only focused on moving forward, and they stopped to kill them. Ma Ruiqi was so angry she stomped her feet and yelled, but her call to action was clearly less appealing than the Team Contribution Value gained from killing walkers. Furthermore, her past actions made a few newcomers wary of her; they only cared about tangible benefits, having seen enough empty promises. Ma Ruiqi wanted to rush ahead herself, but she wasn't brave enough to fight in the darkness alone. She lacked the courage and could only compete with her team members to kill walkers.

The little fatty's smile was so wide it reached his ears. The walkers were basically lining up to rush to their deaths. This corridor was over 30 meters long, and the walkers would turn to ash after walking about 20 meters in the sea of fire. Once the flames died down, he would cackle and pour a bucket of diesel along the wall, reigniting the fire.

"Come on, you sons of bitches! Fatty is here!" The fatty jumped and hopped around. Seeing the constantly updating kill count and rising number of walkers killed, the fatty felt the world was becoming a beautiful place.

Kirk, on the side, checked and wiped his police handgun. This standard-issue weapon had no durability, but it still required frequent maintenance. According to Mori, weapons were a man's most loyal companions, and those who didn't cherish them died young.

"We still need to prepare for battle!" Kirk said coldly. "We don't have much diesel left." Only then did the little fatty notice that only two barrels of diesel remained.

"Big brother, I've been counting. We've already burned over 200 walkers. If we use the remaining diesel sparingly, we can burn about 100 more. There shouldn't be that many walkers in Zone D, right?"

"The Space is balanced. It won't issue a suicidal quest, nor will it provide an obvious loophole for contractors to exploit. The fact that we could farm so many walkers is already a huge advantage. The Space won't let us sit here and complete this mission with ease. If you want to gain an advantage, you have to take risks." Kirk replaced the magazine and picked up his dagger.

The little fatty's expression turned serious. "Big brother, I understand. What should we do now?"

"Let's save these two barrels of fuel for now. This corridor was designed with defense in mind; it's only about 2.5 meters wide, allowing only two walkers to come up at a time. Later, I'll go first, and you'll provide support from behind. If we can't hold them off, we'll use the fuel to burn them. Then we'll fight until we can't anymore." Kirk's resolve hardened as he remembered Mori's warning.

The fire subsided, and the walkers charged forward, burning. Kirk stood his ground. First, he shot the head off the walker at the very front, then he rushed forward and, with a fierce dagger slash, decapitated the walker behind it. The headless walker slowly fell. The walkers had no morale and continued to climb forward.

Kirk continued to fight with his dagger. His fighting style was still quite primitive, with little technique. However, influenced by Mori, he had developed a fierce intensity. He made full use of the corridor's length, trying to dodge the walkers' lunges. He exploited the brief moments of stun after a walker lunged to plunge his dagger deep into their brains. Fighting and retreating, he backed away to within 5 meters of the little fatty. Along the way, he had killed 10 walkers and sustained 2 scratches from them. Fortunately, they weren't vital areas, and he had lost over 30 health. He gestured for the little fatty to act.

The little fatty quickly poured down the diesel and ignited it. Kirk retreated, gasping for air, and bandaged himself. This type of bandage was a common item in this world, not a healing item recognized by the Space. It couldn't restore health but was effective for stopping bleeding.

A long line of walkers was instantly engulfed in the sea of fire, roaring lowly as they turned into fiery corpses, falling in the corridor and burning into a pile of remains.

Kirk panted for a while, his health slowly rising to 60. He gritted his teeth, nodded at the little fatty, and charged forward again after the flames died down.

Close-quarters combat was very risky, but if you never trained, you would never have a chance to grow and evolve, and your abilities would not improve. In the future, when facing greater dangers, it would truly become a deadly threat.

Not to mention the distant future, but even tonight, the walkers would undergo a second mutation. The direction of mutation was unknown, but no matter what aspect was strengthened, it would pose a greater threat to the lives of newcomers!

They were already so difficult to deal with now. If they couldn't manage to kill them now, it would only become more difficult in the future.

Kirk fiercely thrust his dagger, piercing the jaw of another walker. The dagger lodged in its brain. Before he could pull it out, the dying walker counterattacked, grabbing Kirk's shoulder and dealing 12 damage.

Kirk's Strength had now reached 7, similar to the walkers. His Stamina had increased to 8, significantly boosting his defense, allowing him to suppress some of the walkers' damage. Even so, a single dying scratch from a walker still dealt 12 damage. For an ordinary newcomer with about 4 Stamina, this would have immediately put them in a severely injured state. It was no wonder newcomers feared close combat like the plague and only dared to use ranged weapons; the risk was simply too great, and a moment's carelessness could lead to death.

Death meant losing everything.

Kirk was secretly alarmed, but at this moment, he actually received a Space notification: "Contractor No. 4444, the cumulative damage you have sustained has reached 252 points, exceeding 30% of your total health. Due to your bloody battle and adventurous spirit, you have automatically learned [Basic Physical Defense Mastery], currently at skill level 1.

[Basic Physical Defense Mastery] Level 1: Except for shield-type equipment, mastery of other defensive equipment has increased, granting a defensive bonus, and the physical damage taken by the contractor is reduced by 5%.

Please continue to explore other combat methods and continuously strengthen yourself."

Kirk gasped for air. His health had now dropped to 30, close to the critical threshold of 24. However, he gritted his teeth and chopped off the walker's neck with a single blow, kicking the headless corpse away.

Then, he drew his handgun and shot several walkers in the head. The walkers were only 1-2 meters away from him. Even though his firearm skills were mediocre, his shooting accuracy could be very high.

After killing two more walkers, Kirk was bitten by a police officer walker just before it died, clamping down on his left hand. Although Kirk wore police protective gloves, he was still bitten, bleeding profusely, with only 20 health remaining, entering a severely injured state. He signaled for the little fatty to continue.

The little fatty poured down the last barrel of diesel and set it ablaze.

Kirk retreated to rest above. The little fatty quickly asked, "Big brother, are you okay? Why are you fighting them so desperately? We can escape even if we can't beat them."

"We probably have no retreat. This should be the only way out. They can't get in, and we can't get out," Kirk panted.

"Then, big brother, are we surrounded?" the little fatty asked nervously. "Big brother, you rest first. Next time, I'll go first!"

Kirk nodded, closed his eyes to rest, and his health slowly began to rise.

The little fatty waited for 2 minutes. The flames gradually extinguished again. This fire had once again claimed the lives of over 60 walkers, if their lives could be called that.

Finally, the walkers charged forward again. This time, they had no more diesel.

The little fatty cursed them as "sons of bitches" and kicked the diesel barrels down one by one. The heavy barrels tripped up the walkers below, and then ignited, with some residual diesel still inside. The burning diesel barrels temporarily blocked the walkers behind them from advancing.

Kirk glanced at the little fatty with satisfaction. This little fatty was quite clever; at this critical moment, he could still think of using all available resources to hinder the walkers' advance. Very good.

Then, the little fatty let out a roar to bolster his courage and charged down with his steel shovel.

He had also fought a few battles in the Space and had some experience. He directly swung his steel shovel at the walkers' vulnerable necks and heads. From his elevated position, he smashed one walker's head after another like a broken watermelon, brains and blood splattering everywhere.

The walkers, regardless, reached out their arms and clawed upwards, groaning.

The little fatty cursed, spewing all sorts of foul language. Kirk saw that the kid was constantly encouraging himself. Suddenly, the little fatty tripped over a diesel barrel by the wall, and his steel shovel fell, hitting him. Tears welled up from the pain.

Kirk sighed inwardly. Seeing the situation turn unfavorable, he pulled out his handgun and fired several shots, killing the walkers lunging at him and relieving the little fatty. The little fatty scrambled to his feet and raised his steel shovel again.

Kirk saw that his health had finally reached 45, having recovered from the severely injured state. If the little fatty didn't get support, he wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer.

Kirk took out his handgun and walked down.

Seeing his big brother arrive, the little fatty's courage surged. The two began to cooperate again. Kirk handled the close combat, while the little fatty, using his long-handled steel shovel, stood at a higher position and continued to smash the walkers' heads.

It was thanks to the narrow terrain that it was a great help to them. Only two walkers could come up at a time, and now the walkers behind were blocked by the burning diesel barrels. The two fought until they were out of breath, finally finishing off all 30-odd walkers.

"Big brother, the diesel barrels have burned out. They're about to come up. What do we do?" Because Kirk was blocking the front, the little fatty was only scratched once and still had a lot of health left, but he was exhausted.

"Don't panic. Our police siren has been ringing all along. Others will come rushing over. They'll naturally attack the walkers when they see them. They don't know we're here, so they won't think of using the walkers to kill us with their malicious schemes. Even if someone does, others might not be able to resist the temptation of Team Contribution Value. If all else fails, we can turn off the siren and retreat to the control room to defend. The control room is the critical part of the prison; its doors are relatively thick. Without the stimulation of the police siren, the walkers won't be able to break in immediately." Kirk had already thought of this.