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Chapter 1 - The Experimental File

It is November 20, 2035.

Kai Min, twenty-eight, trudges through another gray morning. Office life feels like a slow suffocation: the hum of fluorescent lights, the endless tide of spreadsheets, the passive-aggressive glances of coworkers. His cubicle is a cage, his monitor a small, indifferent window to the world.

Yet in the back of his mind, there's another reality — one he dominates. DeadZ, a ruthless zombie survival game where every decision can mean life or total loss. For years, Kai has lived by its rules, perfected its mechanics, and survived when most players fall. In DeadZ, mastery isn't about kills; it's about instinct, observation, and patience.

Even so, after years of perfection, monotony gnaws at him. Every loot run, every base defended, every infected slain — it all begins to feel repetitive. There's a hunger for something new, something that pushes him beyond the virtual world he knows so well.

Flashback – Earlier That Day

Kai sits at his cubicle, eyes fixed on endless data sheets.

Clara Hargreaves, his boss, stalks the rows like a shark.

"Numbers don't add up," she snaps, leaning over his shoulder.

"I told you to run projections with the updated client data."

"I did," Kai replies quietly.

"You sent the old dataset," she retorts, sharp.

He lowers his gaze. "Is that… my mistake, ma'am?"

Her lips curl in a cold smirk. "Learn to take responsibility, Min. You'll go further that way."

The office hums with forced indifference. Kai forces himself to breathe slowly, cataloging each slight, each humiliation.

By mid-morning, Kai's phone buzzes with a notification:

Closed Beta Access – DeadZ 2 Experimental – Sign-ups Now Open.

Sign-up Closes December 1, 2035.

He pauses, thumb hovering over the Sign Up button. The tagline reads:

"For veterans who survived the impossible — be the first to test the next evolution."

He exhales a tired laugh.

"Sure. Why not another disappointment?"

Without thinking, he taps Sign Up.

A confirmation blinks on-screen:

"Thank you for signing up. Participant registration complete.

Neural node delivery scheduled for December 1, 2035."

He stares at the message for a moment before closing the tab.

Another beta test, another escape from monotony — or so he thinks.

By the time the day ends, Kai's mind is as exhausted as his body.

He leaves the building, opting for a dimly lit alley to avoid the crowded streets.

Rain slicks the pavement; neon signs shimmer faintly in puddles.

His coat is soaked, his shoes squelch. He moves cautiously, aware of shadows, reflexively analyzing escape routes — old habits from the game.

A sudden movement catches his eye.

A hooded figure sprints toward him, glancing frantically over her shoulder.

Before Kai can react, they collide, and both fall to the ground.

A small, sleek, metallic neural-link node skids across the alley.

Kai's hand closes around it. It's cold, slick with condensation, unmarked, clearly not a consumer model.

The figure doesn't stop. She disappears into the night, leaving Kai blinking in the rain.

Then a voice cuts across the alley:

"Hey, loser! What are you doing out here?"

Clara's electric sedan idles nearby, lights cutting through the mist.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm on my way home," Kai mutters, barely looking.

Clara leans out of the window. "Rough day? I can give you a ride."

Kai hesitates, hand on the door handle. The rain trickles down his neck, his thoughts racing.

Just as he begins to open it, Clara's smirk widens.

"In your dreams," she says, and the car speeds off, tires spraying water.

Kai stands alone, watching the taillights vanish, remembering every betrayal and false alliance he's suffered in DeadZ.

Some things never change. Some people never change.

At home, Kai stares at the node on his desk, glowing faintly under the warm lamplight.

The apartment smells of old coffee and damp socks.

He debates calling the authorities but quickly dismisses it — too many what-ifs.

Instead, curiosity gnaws at him.

He sits at his computer, fingers hovering.

He inspects the node carefully. Neural-link tech of this caliber is rare — experimental.

He sets up his system cautiously, checking antivirus, double-checking connection protocols.

Finally, with a hesitant breath, he plugs it in.

The screen flickers, hums, and then a sleek interface appears: DeadZ 2 Experimental.

The character creation menu glows before him.

Without hesitation, he selects Katy — a Korean woman with sharp eyes and a steely expression.

Not for stats, not for bonuses — just for style.

This is the avatar he prefers, the one closest to his in-game instincts and style from the original DeadZ.

He hits Play.

Suddenly, a violent surge jolts through his neural link, electric and white-hot.

Pain blooms behind his eyes, and his vision fractures into static before plunging him into darkness.

A calm, digital voice whispers in his mind:

"Player connected … Welcome to DeadZ 2 Experimental."

Unknown Facility – Private Division

December 20, 2035 – 16:55

Elara Cho, systems engineer, storms into Director Victor Hale's office, face flushed with anger.

"You're using people as lab rats! This isn't ethical!" she shouts.

Victor smirks, calm as ever.

"You could always be Player Number One. Join the field. See what it's like firsthand."

He slides a neural-link node across the desk toward her.

"Or, if you want, you can observe safely — gather data yourself while we proceed."

Elara snatches it up, her hands trembling.

"I swear, if this continues, I'll stop it — go to the authorities if I must!"

Her threat hangs in the air, but Victor only tilts his head, amused.

"Do as you will. The system responds to my programming."

She turns sharply and storms out, heart pounding, the node clutched tight in her hand.

As she exits the building, rain greets her in cold sheets. Streetlights smear into halos on the slick pavement.

Elara moves fast through the side streets, every footstep echoing.

Behind her, two men in security coats cross the intersection — not chasing her, just heading the same direction — but her nerves are too raw to tell the difference.

Panic sharpens her pace.

She cuts into an alley to lose them, hood pulled low, breath steaming in the cold air.

Her pulse hammers. She looks once over her shoulder — no one.

Then forward — her pace quickens, rain stinging her face as she moves through the alley.

A sudden movement catches her off guard — a figure stepping out from the cross street.

She tries to stop, but momentum carries her forward.

They collide, hard. Both fall to the ground.

The metallic node slips from her grasp, skidding across the wet pavement before coming to rest near the other figure's hand.

Elara scrambles upright, heart pounding, eyes flicking toward the distant sound of voices.

Without a word, she turns and disappears into the night, vanishing into the storm. And somewhere in the city, the first connection has already been made.

End of Chapter 1

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