The swift, slithering sounds above induced no glance from Eric; her focus remained fixed on leaping from one window to the next, desperate to distance herself from the rooftop.
Only upon reaching the thirteenth floor did she glance upward, observing the tentacles rapidly retracting. After a brief pause without further emergence, she resumed her descent.
At the ninth floor, Eric discovered a pried-open window and slipped inside, immediately confronting two familiar faces.
"You're… alive!" Taylor exclaimed, relief and astonishment mingling in his voice.
"Have you uncovered any clues here?" Eric inquired.
Taylor shook his head. "No. The corridor outside is swarming with zombies. We're trapped, unable to escape."
Eric approached the door and cautiously peered through the observation window, confirming a massive horde below.
"We must devise a method to lure the zombies away," she proposed, turning back. "This building is no longer safe. I was chased by countless tentacles earlier—I suspect mutated zombies infest the rooftop in uncertain numbers. We cannot linger here; after securing the clue on the ninth floor, we must depart."
Recalling the recent ordeal, Taylor shuddered. "You used quite a few points, didn't you?" He presumed Eric had exchanged points for healing packs to survive.
"Yes," Eric admitted without denial, then addressed Dennis. "Are you in for the plan?"
Dennis eagerly nodded. "Count me in!"
"Do you have a strategy?" Taylor probed.
"I'll act as bait to draw the zombies out, employing my agility," Eric explained. "I'll scale the outer wall, entering the corridor through a window. Once I've lured the zombies inside, you must quickly seal the stairwell doors. It won't hold for long; you'll need to search this floor swiftly."
Taylor weighed the plan's feasibility. "What if those stairwell doors are damaged? We were on the thirteenth floor earlier. Surely the doctors and police secured those doors. The zombies entered from below, didn't they?"
"We have to take the risk," Eric resolved. Despite entertaining such doubts, she was determined to try.
Bearing most of the danger herself, Taylor consented after a moment's thought. "Be cautious. If it fails, return immediately. We'll evacuate this building at once."
Eric nodded and without hesitation climbed out the window to execute the plan.
Her entry into the corridor proved smooth. Utilizing the window breaker—an implement acquired during the Killing Train dungeon—she shattered the sealed glass window between the thirteenth and twelfth floors. Glass cascaded down as Eric leapt through, confronting a zombie peering upward from below.
"Hss!" the creature lunged, but Eric met it with a swift strike of her cleaver, severing much of its head in a single blow. The zombie's head lolled grotesquely, jaws snapping futilely. Eric kicked it aside before hastening upstairs to inspect the thirteenth-floor door.
The door remained intact, untouched by force.
Puzzled, Eric retraced her steps and relayed the news to Taylor.
"This is odd. The police on this floor wouldn't simply leave the stairwell door wide open—that would be surrendering without a fight!"
"Do we proceed with the mission?" Eric asked.
After hesitation, Taylor opted to try. Eric returned once more to the corridor.
Settling atop the window ledge, she retrieved a slab of dinosaur meat from the supermarket. During the Dinosaur Park dungeon, she had amassed a considerable supply. Though uncertain whether nearly-charred dinosaur meat attracted zombies, she reasoned if it failed, she would resort to bleeding herself as bait.
She tossed the massive chunk onto the corridor's middle landing, where it pressed against the railing with creaking strain. The mound rose to her feet, allowing Eric to touch it by lifting her leg. These pieces had been hoarded in supermarket corners; having eaten two, she disliked the taste but now found practical use.
Eric then began rhythmically striking a stainless steel basin, producing a resonant clanging that echoed through the stairwell.
Clang, clang! Bang, bang!
Drawn by the noise, zombies from the twelfth floor ascended first.
Eric watched intently. The zombies seemed oblivious to her presence, or were genuinely attracted by the dinosaur meat. They flocked to it, sinking their jaws deeply.
Success!
Soon the horde from the thirteenth floor was drawn downwards in unison, converging on the dinosaur meat. The commotion also summoned zombies from other levels, and before long, the stairwell brimmed with ravenous creatures.
"Hsss! Hsss!"
Despite its size, the dinosaur meat proved insufficient as more zombies swarmed, leaving the latecomers unable to reach it. They emitted agitated growls, while those feeding growled angrily when disturbed.
Watching the mass of zombies climb atop the meat like ants crawling over a feast, Eric's unease deepened. They pressed upward, closing in on her. At last, one of the creatures noticed her presence.
Eric hastily stowed away the basin and swiftly slipped from the window. In the next moment, a nimble zombie, endowed with remarkable leaping prowess, lunged at the window—
She deftly evaded to the side, watching as the agile creature bounded downwards, shrinking to a mere speck before crashing to the ground in a spray of crimson.
Returning to the room where Taylor and the others had been, Eric found it deserted, the door ajar — they must have gone out to secure the stairwell. Indeed, stepping through the chamber and out into the corridor, she beheld bloodstains smeared along the floor, yet not a single zombie in sight. Choosing not to seek Taylor and Dennis at the stairwell, she instead commenced a careful search of the floor.
Starting with the adjacent rooms, Eric quickly confirmed that this level bore the same grim fate as the thirteenth floor she had previously isolated.
"Clues…" she murmured, rifling through one room after another, finding no discernible differences. Most doors stood open; after inspecting over a dozen rooms, she discovered one hospital ward locked from within. Surely survivors remained inside. The observation window was plastered over with newspaper, obscuring any view and muffling all sound. Eric knocked insistently, receiving no response, then warned,
"The zombies have been lured away, but they will return shortly. Should the door be broken down, you'll have nowhere left to hide!"
At last, movement within the room stirred. The newspaper peeled back to reveal a youthful face.
Eric's heart stirred subtly, though her expression remained inscrutable. She frowned slightly, motioning for him to open the door.
The young man hesitated, reluctant, but upon sight of the cleaver poised in Eric's hand, he relented and unlocked the door.
Upon entry, Eric's suspicions intensified. This NPC—undoubtedly so—was the very "clue" from the ninth floor.
There had been something uncanny about him through the observation window, a subtle dissonance she could not place. Now, with proximity, that strangeness became clearer: Eric's mutated senses detected a faint, unsettling scent clinging to him—one reminiscent of the stale stench typical of zombies.
His pale, slightly greenish complexion, lips tinged with black, and the reddish threads faintly shimmering in his dark brown irises all made sense.
"Are you a patient here? Are there any other survivors on this floor?" Eric asked, scrutinizing his hospital gown.
The young man shook his head. "I don't know. I've been sleeping. When I woke, it was like this. I have not seen any other survivors." He remained firmly by the door, bracing himself to shut it at any moment.
No sooner had Eric asked these questions than footsteps echoed down the corridor. Startled, the young man lunged to close the door, but Eric stopped him.
"Don't worry—it's my companions," she said calmly, meeting his pale, wary gaze.
Still doubtful, he attempted to close the door and then retreated, murmuring, "You could hide here with me..."
That was acceptable. Eric followed him inside, closing the door behind them. Shortly thereafter, Taylor and Dennis arrived, and Eric pushed open the door to greet them.
"You scared me!" Taylor patted his chest, sweat beading his forehead. "The stairwell door's locked! Time's short—we need to hurry—"
"Good. There's a survivor here. I'll question him. You two search; I've already inspected those nine rooms to the left of this one."
Taylor and Dennis nodded and quickly set off, leaving Eric and the survivor in a heavy silence.
Soon, the pair returned.
"This is maddening! I remember there were many police and doctors here, yet not a trace remains. I've only seen a few zombies in white coats and uniforms, and their numbers don't add up," Taylor raked his hands through his hair in frustration. "I hate these cryptic dungeons! Why can't we just have a simple escape? This damned game's going off the rails!"
Eric glanced sharply at him; Taylor immediately fell silent, aware of the NPC's presence. Yet his agitation could not be contained, and he continued to run his hands through his hair.
"What do we… do next?" Dennis asked cautiously.
"First, we leave. The upper floors are perilous." Eric rose and addressed the young man. "You're coming with us."
He shook his head stubbornly. "I'm not leaving. My family will come for me."
Taylor's eyes brightened, clearly regaining composure and gleaning insight. "When will your family arrive? Will they take us with them?"
The young man shook his head again.
Before Taylor could unleash the myriad threats swirling in his mind, the young man continued, "You're contaminated. You can't leave this island."
An island?
Eric recalled the rooftop's airstrip and grew all the more certain they must flee alongside this youth by plane. A contaminated island would surely be dealt with mercilessly—likely bombed into oblivion.
"When will your family come?" Eric asked.
The young man answered with a cool indifference, "I don't know. They'll come when they're meant to."
His tone irritated Eric.
"Don't lose your temper," she interjected, stopping Taylor. "Since we don't know when rescue will arrive, let's stick to our original plan and leave this building first."
"The airstrip—"
"Wait for rescue," Eric replied decisively.
"Fine, we'll follow your lead." Having escaped the rooftop unscathed, Taylor was inclined to trust someone skilled.
The young man refused to leave; thus, Eric and companions bound him with bedsheets as makeshift ropes, gagging him before lowering him down like cargo.
"As usual, I'll rappel down first. Then you lower him; I'll catch him below."
"Let me take point this time. I feel bad always sending you, a girl, to lead the way." Taylor said, his eyes flickering evasively.
His words were no more than a quarter sincerity, the rest born of dread for the mutated horrors above. Eric understood perfectly but chose not to call him out, nodding in agreement.