It was less a unified team and more a hastily assembled coalition of several smaller squads, numbering about twenty individuals, all players from the Japanese side.
Caught between the armed thugs and the players, a beautiful girl leaned against the wreck of a white sedan, looking utterly disheveled. She wore the distinctive white and green short skirt uniform of Fujimi Academy, with two long, antenna-like brown locks of hair falling from her head. Her expression was one of intense pain; she clutched her right leg, blood steadily seeping through her fingers.
This was Miyamoto Rei, the girl Rakuro Yei had rescued from Class 2-B at Fujimi Academy.
After the Undead crisis at Fujimi Academy was contained, Rei and over twenty of her fellow students had been incorporated into one of the "Survivor Self-Help Groups." Frankly, she had reservations. She deeply distrusted these so-called "survivors" of unknown origin, and she particularly detested the way some of them looked at her – like they were appraising a piece of merchandise.
She had considered requesting to be placed in a group with Shido Takashi. However, the moment she saw Shido Koichi – the very man responsible for her being held back a year – also assigned to that group, she swallowed her words. In a daze, she found herself led out of the school by a group of unfamiliar "survivors."
Witnessing the city's collapse into a hellscape forced Rei to accept the harsh reality of the apocalypse. She picked up a weapon and tried to force herself to integrate into this "Survivor Self-Help Group," which seemed internally fractured from the start.
Yet, during their flight, her fellow students met tragic ends one after another. Rei finally noticed something deeply wrong: these "survivors" seemed indifferent to the students' deaths – or rather, indifferent to every student's death except hers. Some even seemed pleased when a student perished. This chilling observation made her deeply suspicious of these unnaturally powerful individuals.
Finally, that morning, Rei seized an opportunity during a chaotic encounter with a small Undead horde and slipped away from the group.
Her freedom was short-lived. They tracked her down swiftly. During the ensuing chase, Rei accidentally ran into a street controlled by armed thugs. A sudden gunshot tore through her calf. Only then did she realize she had trespassed onto dangerous territory.
The pursuing "survivors" arrived moments later, clearly unwilling to let her go. A tense standoff ensued across the fifty-meter stretch of street separating them from the thugs. Thankfully, the presence of thousands of Undead in the surrounding blocks forced both sides into an uneasy truce. Beyond the initial warning shots, no real exchange of fire erupted.
"Damn it, Fujiwara! I told you to keep an eye on that mission NPC, Miyamoto Rei!" A Japanese man with a thin mustache backhanded a younger man in his squad.
The younger man dropped to his knees, bowing his head in terror. "My deepest apologies, Captain! It was pure chaos! Hundreds of Undead surged out of nowhere... I never expected Rei, who'd been so compliant, would try to run..."
A middle-aged man with a kindly face stepped forward, placing a hand on the kneeling youth's shoulder. "Enough, Captain Mitarashi. Young men make mistakes; they need time to learn. He's right – Rei was remarkably cooperative. We all let our guard down."
A powerfully built man with dark skin interjected, "Captain Mitarashi, punish your man later if you must, but we have a more pressing matter. Do we retrieve Rei or not?"
Silence fell over the group. The captains present exchanged grim looks. The situation was brutally clear: rescuing Rei meant dashing across nearly a hundred meters of open ground under enemy fire. Getting to her was manageable – most physique-focused players here could easily cover that distance in under ten seconds. Getting back, however, meant carrying a wounded girl with a useless leg. If the thugs opened fire indiscriminately and hit Rei, triggering her Boss transformation... half the players present might not make it out alive.
But abandoning Rei meant forfeiting the main scenario quest. The penalty was crippling: 10,000 points multiplied by Rei's point coefficient – a staggering 20,000 points. For most here, this wasn't just losing all gains from this instance; it meant starting the next one deep in debt.
"If only Akaiwa were here," Captain Mitarashi sighed, frustration lacing his voice. Akaiwa was the captain of the Red Stone Mountain squad – the big, bearded man whose two teammates had been killed earlier. He was one of the few veteran Japanese players specializing as a main tank. His flashy crimson armor was a rare F-Purple grade item, and he wielded a Blue-grade Tiger Head Round Shield traded from a Chinese player. With him present, the thugs' meager firepower wouldn't have been an issue.
The other captains murmured agreement, but it was useless. Akaiwa wasn't coming.
"Captain Mitarashi! Bad news!" A wiry young man darted between abandoned cars, rushing up to the mustached captain. "A massive Undead horde is converging from two blocks away! Reports confirm an Elite Undead 'Tanker' among them – three meters tall, impossible to miss in the crowd!"
The color drained from everyone's faces.
"Those damn gunshots earlier!" Captain Mitarashi slammed his fist against a car door in frustration. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. "Gentlemen, we're out of time. We need a decision, now! Once that horde arrives, trapped between thugs and Undead... we're finished!"
"Retreat," the dark-skinned man stated flatly. "As the old saying goes, 'Where there's life, there's hope.' Points can be regained. Lives cannot."
"Agreed." "Seconded."
The other captains raised their hands one by one.
"So be it," Mitarashi conceded, the bitterness of losing 20,000 points sharp in his voice. But he understood the stakes. Survival required ruthless pragmatism; it was the only reason he'd lasted this long in the brutal world of Instances. "We retreat."
"What about the students?" a Japanese player asked, gesturing towards the few remaining Fujimi Academy teens trembling with terror behind a small pickup truck.
A cruel smile touched Captain Mitarashi's lips. He drew a finger across his throat. "The mission's scrapped. No need for the act anymore, right?"