The Purpose of Three Thousand Private Soldiers

At three in the morning, the third level descended into chaos.

Shrill alarms pierced the metal corridors and echoed across the entire area.

Genos's eyes lit up, blue light flashing rapidly.

"I'm detecting a large number of abnormal life signs," he reported grimly. "The number of infected soldiers at the private soldiers' stronghold on the third level has surged past twenty. The others are retreating toward the vault."

Kurapika shot to his feet.

"The vault is their target."

He sounded certain. There was no hesitation in his voice.

The pathogen's spread was no accident.

Pariston had planned to use the chaos as cover from the start.

"Everyone, get ready," Kurapika ordered. "Gon, Killua, guard the main passage. Leorio, set up a temporary medical station in the rear. Genos, keep scanning and report enemy movements."

He paused and looked at Saitama, who was leaning against the wall and yawning.

"Mr. Saitama, could you... stay in the back and not wander off?"

"Okay," Saitama said, still leaning against the wall.

It wasn't as if he had anything to do anyway.

The passage outside the vault was narrow and long.

It was the only route to the vault.

Kurapika had chosen to defend it for precisely that advantage.

However many enemies came, only two or three could pass through the narrow passage abreast.

Their numbers would mean little.

Gon and Killua stood at the front, one on each side.

Leorio set out his medical equipment midway down the passage.

Genos hovered overhead, a blue scanning beam sweeping the far end of the passage.

Kurapika stood behind Gon and Killua, the Chain sliding from his sleeve and hanging at his side, ready to strike.

"They're here," Genos warned quietly.

Shadows stirred at the far end of the passage.

A dozen or so infected soldiers