As it turned out, a heavier build had its perks—like right now, where Fatty clearly held the advantage over your average person.

Of course, it wasn’t without cost. That single hit had left Fatty’s entire face purpling.

Seeing her strike hadn’t dropped him, the female researcher scrambled out of his grip, stepped back, and readied a follow-up attack—breaking her own pattern. But Fatty wasn’t one to take it lying down. He raised both hands toward her, gritted his teeth, and roared, “Damn it—Thunder Rolling!”

Crack—!

A deafening thunderclap erupted indoors. The blinding flash forced everyone to squeeze their eyes shut. When the light faded and they blinked open, all they saw was a corridor half-charred black.

Fatty stood at the edge of the darkness, panting hard, voice trembling. “Damn… overdid it. Feeling drained. Lao Ling—lend me a hand…”

Ling Mo: “…”

Now he knew Fatty’s ability.

Sure enough—the Thunder Emperor.

Intimidating as hell, no doubt.

Xia Xinyan, utterly unfazed, walked over the scorched ground, searched briefly, and pulled out an ID card already blackened to a crisp.

Murong Yue leaned in, eyeing the charred lump with awe. “Whoa, Fatty’s ability’s legit strong… Wait, isn’t this fully carbonized? Can it even work?”

“We’ll see,” Xia Xinyan said. She placed the card on the sensor. The indicator blinked green. The sealed door began sliding open.

“No way—it works? Quality’s insane,” Murong Yue muttered.

“Enough talk. Let’s grab what we need and go,” Fatty said, face grim. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Bad feeling? You got infected?” Murong Yue shot him a glance. “Actually… possible. You *were* hit just now.”

“…Who said getting hit means infection? Don’t spread fear,” Fatty said, clapping Ling Mo’s shoulder. “Lao Ling—come on, let’s check inside.”

Ling Mo nodded and steadied him as they stepped in.

Xia Xinyan followed. But the room was completely empty.

High-tech walls glowed with advanced data projections. Yet the central shelf—the one meant for the vaccine—held nothing.

“Where’s the vaccine?” Fatty stammered. “Where’s that huge vaccine?!”

Xia Xinyan scanned the room, spotted a notice on a far-corner desk, read it, and sighed. “The doses were relocated.”

“What?” Fatty froze. “Relocated *where*?”

“Shipped to Southern Mall for trial release,” Xia Xinyan said, passing the note around. “I don’t know where that is.”

Typical game quirk—she should’ve expected it. In dungeons, anything that could genuinely shift a player’s fate always came with hurdles. Too easy? No challenge.

Even the starter dungeon wouldn’t coddle newbies…

“So we ran all this way for nothing?” Murong Yue grumbled. “Should’ve just holed up somewhere safe from the start. Wait—you *do* remember where your homes are, right?”

“We do,” Xia Xinyan nodded. “But hiding two days to clear the dungeon? Too naive. Vaccine or not—we need this city’s map first.”

Players entered empty-handed—no phones, no gear. The car had GPS, but it couldn’t be taken. Outside it, they were blind.

Hearing “map,” Ling Mo lit up. “Rob a store for phones? They’ve gotta have maps.”

“What are we waiting for? Go!” Fatty, already impatient, bolted out pistol-first.

As Ling Mo and Xia Xinyan turned to follow, Murong Yue tugged their sleeves, whispering, “Seriously… don’t you think *he* might be infected? What’s-his-name—Fatty? He got hit. You really keeping him?”

Ling Mo paused slightly.

Xia Xinyan studied her with mild curiosity. “And your suggestion?”

“The three of us leave. Let Fatty fend for himself—he’s armed. If he’s infected, why risk us?” Murong Yue pressed.

Ling Mo glanced at Xia Xinyan.

He’d grown used to checking her first—even with his own thoughts—just to honor her feelings.

Maybe this was what being a simp felt like.

But even a simp could believe: loyalty pays off.

Xia Xinyan stayed calm. “Depends on what Mo thinks.”

Ling Mo froze again.

*Mo…*

Weird-sounding, but… a nickname?

A term of endearment…

Heh.

“Hey—your call?” Murong Yue snapped him back.

Ling Mo cleared his throat. “Zhang Dari’s my real-life friend. You think I’d ditch him?”

“It’s *just* a game! You enjoy getting screwed over?” Murong Yue muttered.

“You *know* it’s a game?” Ling Mo shot her a sidelong look. “Then why take it so seriously? How do you *know* he’s infected? Even if he is—we find vaccines. Don’t wanna stay? Go solo. You’ve got a weapon too, right?”

Murong Yue: “…”

Tch.

Ling Mo turned away. “Xin… Xinyan. Let’s go. Sooner we’re back, safer we are.”

Xia Xinyan’s eyebrow lifted slightly.

*Tsk. Bold move.*

She’d expected him to play deaf again—like always.

Fatty waited by the door, frowning. “What kept you?”

“Checked for anything useful inside,” Ling Mo brushed it off. “Any phone stores nearby?”

“Who remembers?” Fatty scanned the street, annoyed. “Brands here don’t match reality. No clue what counts as a phone shop. Not even a 5G billboard.”

“Then… check every shop that *looks* like one?” Murong Yue chimed in.

No sooner had she spoken than a desperate cry cut through the air: “HELP!!”

They turned. A man scrambled from a mangled car. Four, five infected spotted him instantly—charging wildly. He lurched up, screaming, sprinting down the street.

“A player?” Ling Mo squinted.

“No,” Murong Yue shook her head. “Don’t recognize him.”

“Then… we save him,” Xia Xinyan smiled faintly. “Locals here should carry phones, right?”

Murong Yue: “…”

*Figured. This girl’s no pushover.*