[You were attacked by members of the Maroon Gang. Health 50%]
[You were attacked by members of the Maroon Gang. Lost 48 HP (48% total health).]
[You were attacked by members of the Maroon Gang. Lost 45 HP (45% total health).]
[You are now in a near-death state. Restore your health above zero within one minute.]
Even without the system's warning, Marcus could feel his life slipping away—bit by bit. The cold touch of death was already creeping into his consciousness. His body relaxed involuntarily, and an empty syringe rolled from his bloodstained fingers onto the ground.
His gaze lifted one last time, fixing somewhere in the starry night sky.
"Wasted a few bullets on this freak," one of the gang members spat, kicking Marcus's leg.
The thug crouched down, rummaging through Marcus's clothes for valuables. As expected, there was nothing—nothing except a single remaining syringe filled with that crystal-blue liquid.
They stared at it in fascination, captivated by its unnatural shimmer, thinking it might fetch a good price. None of them noticed the faint twitch of Marcus's fingers beside the puddle of blood.
---
[Reconstructing biological structure... Mutation successful.]
[You have evolved into a Special Infected: Metal Mutant.]
[You are no longer in a near-death state.]
The men were still laughing and arguing about how to split the loot when one of them froze, pointing a trembling hand toward the "corpse."
The body that had taken three bullets to the chest was now standing up.
The bleeding had stopped. The wounds were sealing themselves before their very eyes.
"Wh–What the hell...?" one stammered, his voice shaking. He slapped his companion's shoulder hard. "Hey, bro—look!"
The others turned—and froze in disbelief.
The corpse was gone. Only a pool of blood remained.
Then, behind them, a low, cold voice echoed in the dark alley.
"Looking for me?"
Marcus stood behind the group, arms outstretched, his body subtly larger, his frame denser—stronger. Before any of them could react, he thrust his hand straight through the chest of the nearest thug, as effortlessly as reaching into his own pocket.
When he withdrew it, he was holding a still-beating heart.
He crushed it like an egg.
[Skill Unlocked — Virus Touch]
Pierce an enemy with your fingers or teeth to inject the zombie virus. Ordinary humans will mutate into zombies within four hours. Mutant-type beings possess partial resistance. Infected subjects will obey your commands unconditionally.
"AAAAAAAHHH!!"
The alley erupted with terrified screams. The gang members opened fire, their trembling fingers squeezing the triggers until the clips ran dry. Bullets tore through Marcus's clothes—ripping fabric, clinking against flesh—but not one could pierce his body.
[Skill — Rapid Regeneration]
Consumes bio-energy to heal injuries quickly. Cannot die unless the brain is completely destroyed.
Muscles tightened and shifted beneath his skin, pushing the embedded bullets out one by one. They clattered onto the pavement with metallic pings.
The thugs' jaws dropped.
The moment they realized guns were useless, their courage shattered. Panic overtook them, and they stumbled over each other, desperate to flee toward the alley's exit.
[Skill — Metallization]
Transform any part of your body into bio-metal. Shape and density can be freely altered. Liquid form cannot be maintained for long.
Marcus's fingers gleamed silver as they melted into liquid metal, then hardened into razor-sharp claws that shimmered with a cold, deadly light. Despite their metallic nature, they moved with the fluid grace of human hands.
With his new body enhanced far beyond human limits, Marcus sprinted forward and leapt—soaring five meters into the air. He kicked off both alley walls in quick succession, flipped backward, and landed directly in front of the fleeing men.
The first thug, too panicked to stop, crashed straight into Marcus's claws.
A flash of silver—then blood sprayed through the air.
His eyes widened in disbelief as five deep slashes appeared across his face. His body collapsed, splitting apart into six clean sections—each layer of flesh and bone perfectly exposed like a human anatomy chart.
"Ah... ah... ahhh..."
The others could only make strangled, broken sounds, their throats locked by sheer terror.
Marcus didn't hesitate. These were the same men who had murdered him—why would he show mercy?
A cruel, predatory smile spread across his face as he lunged into the crowd, his claws slicing through flesh and bone in a crimson blur.
He moved like a dancer on a stage of blood—painting with violence.
Flesh became ink.
Bone became brushstroke.
Blood and brains blossomed like flowers in a macabre, crimson garden.
Within moments, the alley had transformed into a grotesque landscape—a winter forest of flesh and gore.
Only one man remained standing, shaking uncontrollably.
It was the first thug—the one who had tried to rob Marcus.
His face twitched violently, his eyes empty. He wasn't screaming or running anymore.
He had lost his mind.
Marcus looked at him for a long moment, then sighed softly.
No reason to prolong this.
He raised his bloodstained metallic claws and pressed them down toward the man's skull.
"Hey, buddy—how about we take a deep breath first?"
A young, playful voice cut through the silence.
A streak of white shot through the air—webbing!
It struck Marcus's arm mid-swing, sticking to his claws and anchoring them to both alley walls, pulling them tight.
A figure swung down from above, flipping gracefully through the air before landing in a pose that could only belong to a certain someone—one hand on the ground, the other pointing skyward.
Red and blue spandex, web patterns across the chest, and a black spider emblem in the center.
A full-body mask with large, silver-white lenses.
The newcomer pointed directly at Marcus and said firmly:
"I don't know what he did to you—but no one gets to decide who lives or dies. Not like this."