The others had no idea about any of this. They saw Brian Carter raise his gun and shoot, seemingly without even needing to aim, yet every shot was a perfect headshot. At first glance, it looked incredibly impressive. Matthew Addison nodded to himself, and he and the other mercenaries kept their eyes fixed ahead, leaving the zombies behind them to Michael Bolton and Brian Carter.

David Thompson's eyes sparkled with excitement as he shouted, “Brian Carter big bro, you’re amazing! You must have used guns a lot before, right? That’s incredible—how many reward points is that?”

Suddenly, Matthew Addison turned around and asked, “Reward points?”

David Thompson's face instantly turned ashen. Brian Carter knew he must have heard some kind of warning voice, followed by a deduction of his reward points. This guy was really unlucky—not only did he not earn any points, he actually ended up in the negative.

Matthew Addison gave the three of them a strange look, then turned his attention back to the front. Laura James patted her chest and whispered, “That was close. I thought the plot was going to change again.”

Laura James actually had a great figure, and she was quite pretty too. When she patted her chest, it made her breasts jiggle, and both Brian Carter and David Thompson couldn’t help but steal a few more glances. She seemed to notice something was off and quickly crossed her arms over her chest, saying, “Do you think Michael Bolton will be okay? We can’t even see him anymore.”

Brian Carter knew she was just trying to change the subject, so he casually replied, “He should be fine. He’s way more skilled than we are, and he’s got that Desert Eagle with unlimited ammo… Damn it, if I survive this, I’m definitely going to exchange for one too.”

Laura James touched her forehead again—apparently a habitual gesture of hers. Her forehead was a bit more prominent than most girls’, and her chest was a bit larger than average, so when she did this, it gave her a unique charm.

“One hundred reward points can increase an ordinary person’s strength by a tenth, or something else. If we make it out alive, I still need to ask Michael Bolton about the details of exchanging reward points… But now’s not the time for that. You’d better focus on protecting us.” Laura James giggled as she spoke.

Zombies kept pouring in from all directions. These swaying corpses looked terrifying, but in reality, they moved very slowly. With Brian Carter fully focused, no zombie could get within five meters of him. But as more and more zombies appeared, the bullets in his pistol kept dwindling. In the end, he was down to his last magazine, and dozens of headless zombies already lay at his feet.

Meanwhile, the mercenaries had opened the door to the research lab, only for dozens of zombies to squeeze out from inside. Caught off guard, the mercenary who opened the door was dragged in by the zombies. The blood-curdling screams sent chills down everyone’s spine—especially Brian Carter and his group. As mentioned before, maybe it doesn’t seem like much in a movie, but when something like this happens right next to you, the terror is truly beyond words.

Matthew Addison's voice came through: “Back to the Red Queen! Go back there!”

Before they knew it, more than a dozen zombies had filled the space between Brian Carter’s group and the mercenaries. The zombies staggered toward Brian Carter, and the three could even smell the stench of rotting flesh. David Thompson couldn’t hold back and shouted, “Brian Carter big bro, shoot! Hurry, shoot!”

Anyone who’s seen this movie knows that if you get bitten or scratched by a zombie, you’re definitely infected. The only remaining antidotes were back in the train car, but by now, anyone who went there would have already turned into a zombie. Right now, they were just ordinary people—if they got hit by the T-virus, they’d be as good as dead.

Brian Carter watched as the mercenaries moved farther and farther away, and he grew more and more anxious, especially as more zombies kept pouring in from around the corner. The bullets in his pistol were running dangerously low.

“Ten, nine, eight…”

Brian Carter silently counted the bullets left in his pistol. Suddenly, the zombies in front of him started dropping one by one, each with a bullet to the head. Michael Bolton charged in from behind them, shouting, “What are you doing? Didn’t I tell you to stick close to them? Huh? Haven’t you seen the movie? There’s a Licker that’s going to escape here!”

As he spoke, Michael Bolton’s Desert Eagle fired rapidly, mowing down the oncoming zombies with headshots. Then, without another word to Brian Carter’s group, he took off after the fleeing mercenaries. Once Brian Carter and the others snapped out of it, they quickly followed.

(He’s about twenty percent faster than us—must have enhanced his muscle tissue, right?)

Even while running, Brian Carter had the presence of mind to observe Michael Bolton’s speed. He’d already noticed that his own body couldn’t quite keep up with his mental reflexes—his neural reaction speed. He’d felt this especially strongly while shooting earlier, like an adult trying to swing a child’s hammer—awkward and hard to get used to.

With Michael Bolton’s Desert Eagle with unlimited ammo, plus his near-perfect shooting skills, the four of them finally managed to rush into the central computer room before the mercenaries closed the door. With a loud bang, all the groaning zombies were shut outside.