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Main Control Room.
Quite unlike the deathly silence in other parts of the ship, this place was illuminated as bright as day by cold white lights.
On the massive circular screen wall, surveillance footage from every corner of the cruise ship scrolled silently.
Morpheus D. Duval had just set down his empty wine glass, a trace of morbid anticipation for the masterpiece he was about to admire still lingering on his face.
He believed that before long, he would see the brilliant footage on the screen of those three little mice being torn to pieces by the artwork he had released.
Just then, on the main screen directly in front of him, an encrypted communication request window popped up, emitting a soft notification tone.
Morpheus frowned slightly, a flash of displeasure in his eyes. Who would dare disturb his mood at such a critical moment?
With a touch of arrogance at being interrupted, he casually opened the communication.
The screen flickered, and a face filled with anxiety and ambition emerged.
The man wore an expensive suit, but his furrowed brows and the deep exhaustion in his eyes made him look like a gambler who had lost all his chips.
"Mr. Morpheus D. Duval," the other party's voice came through the speakers, carrying a hint of the deliberately lowered, smooth tone of a politician,
"I am Drake C. Simmons."
Morpheus raised an eyebrow; the name was somewhat familiar.
A high-ranking official in the U.S. Security Department who seemed to have vanished from the circles of power recently due to a major blunder.
A fallen politician.
"A pathetic wretch locked in a cage, contacting me—the man who is about to become the god of the new world—are you here to beg for my forgiveness?" The corners of Morpheus's mouth curled into a contemptuous arc; he didn't even bother to hide his disdain.
Simmons's face stiffened for a moment, but he quickly adjusted his expression, forcing a smile.
"Gods... also need followers, and allies." Simmons's voice dropped even lower,
"I know what you are doing, Mr. Duval. You are conducting a great selection, creating an entirely new species. For this, I hold the highest respect."
This well-timed flattery caused the expression on Morpheus's face to soften slightly.
"But," Simmons changed the subject, a fanatical light bursting from his eyes, "your art can be even more perfect. It is still missing the final, crucial piece of the puzzle."
"Oh?" Morpheus finally showed a bit of interest.
Simmons wasted no more words; he directly operated his terminal a few times, and a highly encrypted research report was transmitted to the screen in front of Morpheus.
On the screen, countless complex data streams and gene sequence maps flashed by. Two striking virus names were marked at the very top of the model—g-virus, t-veronica virus.
"I am attempting to perform a Fusion of the g-virus's infinite evolutionary characteristics and the veronica virus's natural fire-controlling power." Simmons's voice was filled with irrepressible excitement. "I have already found a lead! A chimeric protein expression method that can theoretically create a... perfect super-organism that possesses both the g-virus's regenerative abilities and the ability to control high temperatures!"
Morpheus stared intently at the embryonic molecular structure model on the screen, representing the Fusion potential of two top-tier viruses. His breathing, unconsciously, became rapid.
He himself was a perfect evolution of the t-virus, but he knew the limitations of the t-virus all too well.
Whereas the g-virus and the veronica virus were Umbrella's other two paths to the Domain of gods. If they could undergo a Fusion... "What do you want?" Morpheus's voice was hoarse; he already understood that this politician hadn't come to beg, but to make a deal.
"It's very simple." Simmons finally bared his fangs. "Help me take out someone. An Easterner named Noah; he is on your ship right now."
"As long as he is dead, I can provide you with a steady stream of funding, top-tier secret research facilities, and... my unfinished research data." A sinister smile appeared on Simmons's face,
"He is our common stumbling block, Mr. Duval. He ruined everything of mine, and he will certainly come to stop your great cause."
Morpheus fell silent.
He looked at the Eastern man standing at the apex of the triangular formation on the surveillance screen, his gaze becoming playful.
So, this strongest mouse was Simmons's target.
Very well.
Rather than letting his artworks hunt aimlessly, it was better to give them a clear objective.
This would make this hunting game much more interesting.
"Deal." Morpheus laughed, like a child who had found a new toy. "I will personally watch my children tear him into pieces, one by one. Then, I'll send the recording to you."
...Inside the Reception Hall.
That Licker remained crouched on the ground, its long, flickering tongue darting in and out of the air, seemingly analyzing the unfamiliar scents.
It could sense living beings ahead, but instinct made it perceive an extremely dangerous aura, making it hesitant to charge forward.
Bruce's palms had already started to sweat; he didn't understand why Noah hadn't made a move yet.
For every second a monster like this existed, the threat increased.
Phoenix Bell's breathing remained steady, but the knuckle of her index finger on the trigger had turned slightly white from the pressure.
She was a soldier, and obedience was her nature, but the current situation ran contrary to almost every anti-biohazard combat regulation she had ever learned.
"Observe its behavior."
Noah's low voice sounded in their tactical headsets, calm without a hint of a ripple.
"Lickers are pure predators; their instinct is to immediately devour their prey on the spot after capturing it to replenish energy as quickly as possible."
Hearing this, the two could not help but look at the monster and the corpse it was dragging once more.
A flash of realization hit Phoenix Bell, and she immediately understood the key point.
"In other words, there's more than just this one around." She responded in a whisper, her voice kept extremely low.
Bruce also reacted instantly, a chill running up his spine.
He looked into the darkness deep in the corridor, as if he could already see countless identical monsters lurking in the shadows.
"Right," he said through gritted teeth. "That's why it's thinking of dragging the prey away, hiding it to enjoy slowly by itself. It's avoiding competition from its own kind."
"Exactly." Noah's voice sounded again, giving the final conclusion. "Gunfire will draw them all here. When that happens, we won't be facing one, but a pack."
Bruce felt his throat go dry.
One Licker was already troublesome enough; a pack? That was simply an unimaginable nightmare.
"Then what do we do?" he asked anxiously. "We can't just waste time here with it."
A light chuckle came from Noah beside him.
"It's very simple."
Noah made a gesture to the two, signaling them to slowly retreat back to the center of the hall and use a massive Marble Fountain Sculpture as cover.
After confirming both had entered their designated defensive positions, Noah unhurriedly walked to the nearby, deserted bar.
He picked up a heavy glass tumbler from the bar and weighed it in his hand.
Then, he tilted his head toward Phoenix Bell and Bruce, signaling them with his eyes to aim at the open Persian Carpet area in the very center of the hall.
Phoenix Bell and Bruce immediately understood; the two adjusted their stances, their weapons steadily pointed at that death zone.
In the next second, Noah's wrist snapped!
The glass tumbler traced a precise arc through the air, crossing dozens of meters and smashing heavily against a massive Roman Column at the other end of the hall!
"Clang—Crash!"
The crisp sound of shattering exploded in the deathly silent hall like a thunderclap, incredibly piercing, with echoes that wouldn't fade.
Almost at the same time the sound rang out!
"Hiss—!"
Sharp hissing sounds came from all directions!
From the shadows of the Crystal Chandelier overhead, from the ends of the deep corridors on both sides, and even from the Ventilation Ducts in the ceiling!
Four black shadows, even larger than the one from before, pounced out!
Their muscles were more knotted, their claws sharper, and their exposed brains throbbed even more violently, emitting a stench that was almost suffocating.
These four exceptionally large Lickers, like sharks that had smelled blood, frantically lunged from their respective hiding places toward the source of the shattering glass!
"Fire!"
The two, who were already prepared, pulled their triggers without hesitation!
Phoenix Bell's mp5 submachine gun spat out precise tongues of fire, a barrage of death composed of 9mm bullets instantly covering the head of one Licker.
That exposed brain burst into a cloud of blood like a smashed watermelon with a "splat," and its massive body tumbled to the ground under its own momentum, twitching a few times before it stopped moving.
"Bang!Bang!"
The.45 caliber pistol in Bruce's hand let out a dull roar. Each bullet carried immense kinetic energy, accurately slamming into the leaping body of another Licker.
The powerful stopping power of the bullets caused its forward momentum to halt abruptly, followed by another bullet accurately hitting its skull, blowing half of its head away.
Meanwhile, Noah, as if taking a stroll, let out ear-splitting roars from the massive desert eagle in his hand.
"Boom!"
A Licker that had just landed from a ceiling vent didn't even have time to adjust its stance before a.50 AE bullet spiraled into its mouth, its immense energy exploding inside the skull instantly! Its entire head burst apart as if a bomb had been stuffed inside!
The last Licker had already pounced close, opening its maw filled with sharp teeth, foul-smelling saliva splashing everywhere!
Noah didn't even move his feet; he just turned his wrist, pointing the muzzle at it.
"Boom!"
Another thunderous roar.
The Licker's body, leaping in mid-air, was as if it had hit an invisible wall, flying backward and slamming heavily onto the ground, its head likewise turned into a mess of shredded meat.
In just a few short seconds.
The battle was over.
The strong smell of gunpowder and blood mixed together, stinging everyone's nostrils.
Deathly silence returned to the hall, with only four mangled corpses proving the brief and intense firefight that had just occurred.
Bruce looked at the remarkably sized monsters on the ground and couldn't help but mutter a curse under his breath.
He finally understood how correct Noah's previous caution had been.
Phoenix Bell, meanwhile, changed her magazine immediately, her gaze sweeping the surroundings to confirm no new threats had appeared.
It seemed the zombies in the hall had indeed all become meals for these apex predators.
"Let's go."
Noah put away his pistol, his voice still calm.
The three did not linger, quickly crossing the messy hall and stepping onto the luxurious spiral staircase leading to the Second-floor Cabin Area.
The corridor on the second floor was covered with a thick velvet carpet, absorbing all their footsteps.
The scene here was even more eerie than downstairs; many cabin doors were wide open, and the insides were in disarray, yet not a single corpse could be seen.
Occasionally, a few zombies wearing waiter uniforms or robes would stagger out from the corners of the corridor.
They moved slowly and posed no threat to the three, being silently dispatched by Phoenix Bell and Bruce with suppressed pistols, accurately targeting their heads.
"The Power Distribution Room is at the end of the corridor, turn left," Phoenix Bell said in a low voice, looking at the map on her Tactical Tablet. "We need to restore power to the elevator to reach the Bottom-level Console in Area E."
Bruce nodded, holding his gun and walking alertly in front.
Just as they were about to pass a corridor intersection—
"Bang!"
A nearby, tightly closed cabin door was suddenly burst open from the inside!
A middle-aged man in a costly silk robe, trembling all over, came scrambling out!
His hair was a mess, his face was as pale as paper, and his eyes were filled with extreme terror and breakdown.
When he saw the three fully armed soldiers in front of him, looking as if they had dropped from the sky, a desire for survival instantly erupted in his hollow eyes!
As if grabbing onto a final lifeline, he lunged toward the three without regard for anything else, falling to the ground because his legs were weak, then struggling to crawl forward.
From his mouth, in stiff and broken English, came a heart-wrenching cry:
"Save me! Take me away from here..."
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