No one present was a fool. After a full day of intense exposure to the infected, even without detailed knowledge of their behavior, everyone had a general idea. Reddening skin might be the most obvious infection sign—but it wasn’t the only one.

Ling Mo, having witnessed the man’s mutation up close, held the most authority on the matter. Especially that haunting "do" tacked to the end of his sentences. So when he noticed Fatty’s speech ending with the same telltale particle, Ling Mo instantly connected the dots.

Others hadn’t seen the mutation firsthand, but hearing Ling Mo raise it now made the implication clear. Recalling the infected’s earlier charges, the conclusion was unavoidable. Even Fatty himself—second only to Ling Mo in realizing it—fell silent mid-sentence after the reminder.

—He was infected.

At this moment, it was devastating news.

“…Brothers,” he forced a strained smile, stepping forward as if to explain. “Don’t—”

Murong Yue, closest to him, jerked back several steps. “Don’t move! Are you even human?!”

“…I’m damn well human, do!” Fatty gritted his teeth. “I haven’t mutated yet, do!”

He grew more agitated. “Damn it—why am I saying ‘do’?! Hell, don’t say ‘do’!”

“Fatty, calm down,” Ling Mo said, brow furrowed, voice low. “Can you still control yourself? We need to assess your infection level.”

Fatty sucked in a sharp breath. “Hiss… Yeah. Barely holding it together, do.”

“But we’ve got no vaccine—we can’t save you,” Murong Yue added earnestly. “Want me to put you out of your misery? Log out early, get some rest.”

“Buzz off, do!” Fatty shot her a glare. “Then what was the point of trudging through this damn sewer? Clear the game and hand me my points, okay, do?”

Murong Yue fell silent.

Fatty took another deep breath, jaw tight. “Let’s go. Reach the rescue point while I can still hold on, do.”

“What if you can’t hold on halfway?” Murong Yue couldn’t help asking.

“Then I’ll end it myself. No need for you.”

“You said it.”

“I said it.”

Ling Mo clapped once. “Move out.”

After the incident, their pace quickened. Thankfully, aside from scattered trash, the sewer held little sewage—its near-highway-like layout helped greatly, stench aside. After a while, you barely noticed the smell.

Ling Mo stayed glued to Xia Xinyan’s side, eyes locked on Fatty. His waist pistol was loaded, ready to put a bullet in Fatty the moment he lost control. If Fatty mutated fully down here, his self-destruct could wipe the whole team. Only if he clearly lost his mind—but Ling Mo wouldn’t hesitate. For Xia Xinyan’s safety. It wasn’t real death, after all.

Luck held: by the time they reached the destination, Fatty’s skin showed zero reddening.

But a new hurdle awaited.

Navigation placed Guangling Building in the city’s busiest commercial plaza—four identical towers at each corner, vast open space between them… and no building labels.

“Rescue point in Building A? Can’t search which one?” Murong Yue frowned. “Try ‘Tower A’? Or just ‘A’?”

“Nothing shows,” Xia Xinyan shook her head. “Game’s challenge. Down to luck.”

“What if we pick wrong?”

“Just across the plaza.” Xia Xinyan glanced up at the sewer exit. “Let’s go up here.”

Early dungeons might ease difficulty slightly—but never remove challenge. Especially not the final mission.

“I’ll go first.” Ling Mo stepped in front of Xia Xinyan. “Check if it’s safe.”

Xia Xinyan paused, lips pressing slightly. “Mm.”

Ling Mo climbed the ladder, shoved the manhole cover open, and scanned the area.

The exit sat beside one tower. Four imposing skyscrapers framed the plaza; infected wandered below, none noticing them.

He waved down. “Clear to come up.”

All towers looked identical—fifty-plus stories tall. Good news: sky bridges linked them two-thirds up. Wrong building? Still a chance to correct.

They entered the nearest tower without delay.

Then froze.

The entire lobby was scorched with blast marks.

“Terrorist attack here, do?” Fatty scanned the rubble, frowning.

“No…” Ling Mo crouched, plucking a bullet casing. “Other players got here first.”

Eight players total. No sign of the other four—unless wiped out. And no police or military in sight. The casing’s origin wasn’t hard to guess.

Moments later, a new alert confirmed it:

【News Flash: Survivor search complete. All targets at extraction point. Cleanup operation moved to 30 minutes. Evacuate immediately.】

The four stiffened.

Murong Yue spun and bolted for the stairs. “Move! We’re dead!”

“Where the hell you going, do?!” Fatty yelled. “Gonna climb all that?!”

“And you’d take the elevator?” She glanced back. “Get ambushed when doors open?”

“…Fair point, do.” Fatty stroked his chin and followed.

Ling Mo turned to Xia Xinyan. “Stairs?”

“Mm-hmm…” Xia Xinyan raised an eyebrow, voice teasing. “Haven’t you noticed… one elevator’s moving?”