The patch of white relentlessly consumed the surrounding undead, its form swelling grotesquely larger with each devoured corpse. Finally, as the storm clouds parted, revealing the cold moonlight, the creature's true shape emerged.
It was a towering white wolf, easily two meters tall. The thick mane across its chest and its powerful tail blazed crimson—the exact vibrant red of the little girl's beautiful hair. With a sickening CRUNCH!, the reinforced security door that had once barred the father and daughter offered no more resistance than wet paper. Razor-sharp claws ripped it clean off the frame.
Undead poured into the house like a foul tide. From within, agonized screams and the wet sounds of tearing flesh erupted. The massive wolf shook its head violently, primal crimson rapidly flooding its eyes, overwhelming the last flickers of reason. Fighting the gnawing hunger, it gently clamped its jaws around the corpse of the middle-aged man. In one fluid motion, it leapt onto the rooftop.
Holding onto its fading humanity for one final moment, the beast extended a rough, crimson tongue and tenderly licked the man's face—a silent farewell. The act complete, the white wolf hurled itself from the roof without hesitation. Its immense form streaked down the corpse-choked street, vanishing into the suffocating darkness.
…
After a hasty rinse in the bath, Royd settled into an empty room. Aside from the story-bound NPCs, Juri Shizuka and Miyamoto Rei, members of both the Ivory Mountain Chieftain and the One-Winged Angel squads had also claimed private spaces. Gender separation was secondary; every Realmwalker guarded their secrets. Personal space was an unspoken necessity unless circumstances absolutely forbade it.
Royd shelved any plans for nocturnal grinding. While his Death Reforge ability restored stamina and spirit instantly, it couldn't erase the psychic toll of relentless slaughter—the bone-deep fatigue and mental residue that only genuine rest could soothe. Push too hard, ignore the accumulating pressure, and the mind would fracture, leaving nothing but a raving husk.
Besides, jackpot locations like the Southtown Mall—crammed with dense, high-value undead clusters—were rare. Risking detection by the likes of Dancer Seph or her crew for the meager thousand points offered by scattered street zombies simply wasn't worth it. A full night's rest was the smarter play.
Stretched out on the sweetgrass-scented tatami, Royd retrieved the loot chest from the Tank's remains from his storage space. Reviewing the day's haul before sleep had become almost ritualistic. Even without new gear, tallying his points felt necessary—a mental bookmark to settle his mind.
[System Alert: Tank Loot Chest Opened. Items Acquired:]
8,000 Points
Tank Mutagenic Virus (Alpha Strain)
"Eight thousand points?" Royd murmured, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. "Guess that Tank was the real deal."
Loot chest points fluctuated, but they reflected a target's threat level. The entire six-man USS team had yielded only 20,000 points. This single elite creature netting nearly half that spoke volumes. If not for Royd's stacked advantages, a standard player team would have been pulped trying to bring down that armored monstrosity.
His attention shifted to the vial of murky green liquid.
[Tank Mutagenic Virus (Alpha Strain)]
Type: Consumable (Single Use)
Rank: F (Blue)
Effect: Injects into human or undead host, catalyzing the emergence of a fully functional Tank unit. Duration: 60 seconds.
Description: An Umbrella Corporation internal test variant. Rapidly generates potent, controllable bio-weapons. Persistent genetic instability issues remain unresolved.
Royd nodded, stashing the vial. Low rank, high utility. A potent, albeit fleeting, summon. Sixty seconds of a rampaging Tank, deployed strategically, could match a high-tier AoE skill in devastation. Permanence, of course, would have demanded a far greater price.
Perhaps it was the season, or maybe the author had been overly generous with fanservice lately, but as Royd closed his eyes, vivid, uncensored images of Juri Shizuka and Miyamoto Rei flooded his mind—their contrasting curves, their smooth skin, every detail rendered in perfect, distracting clarity. No pixelation, no convenient blurs. Just pure, distracting HD.
Royd wasn't some ascetic protagonist straight out of a mainstream novel. While his real-world focus had always been his sister, leaving little room for romance, within the realms? He had no qualms about indulging mutual attraction with an NPC or even a passing character. Needs were needs.
Juri Shizuka's favorability rating hovered well above 90. Realistically, he could push things far with the buxom medic right now. It might even cement their relationship, maxing out her rating. Yet, he held back. A theory nagged at him—a suspicion sparked by that branching quest triggered during the biker gang purge.
[Quest Branch: The Biker Gang Leader]
A. A Man's Code: Spare the gang leader. Reward: Avenger-100 Amphibious All-Terrain Vehicle. Penalty: Miyamoto Rei, Tokido Ryoko, Takagi Saya, Juri Shizuka -20 Favorability.
B. Judgment: Execute the gang leader personally. Reward: Miyamoto Rei +30 Favorability, Tokido Ryoko, Takagi Saya, Juri Shizuka +10 Favorability.
The implications were curious. Why would sparing or killing the thug affect the favorability of all four women, especially the three not present? Why only these four core female characters—Miyamoto, Tokido, Takagi, Juri—while skipping Kōshī Takashi, Hirano Kōta, and Shiri Airisu entirely?
Most tellingly, the favorability rewards for Branch B seemed deliberately balanced against the tangible value of the Avenger-100 vehicle (worth ~12,000 points). In Royd's experience, realms didn't offer unbalanced branches without reason. This suggested Branch B wasn't the endpoint; it was likely the prerequisite for a hidden quest.
The key to unlocking that hidden objective? Those very favorability ratings for Miyamoto Rei, Tokido Ryoko, Takagi Saya, and Juri Shizuka. Royd intended to find out.