The door to James Marcus's private space creaked open by itself, a quiet, teasing welcome into the heart of danger.
The cold, clean air wrapped around them, bringing with it a hint of sweet brandy and a sharp, metallic smell like fresh rain.
It was a sharp change from the heavy scent of blood and decay that lingered throughout the rest of the place.
Jun stepped through the doorway first, his body a protective barrier, every part of him alert and aware.
His Threat Sense felt like a sharp, dark energy coming from the man at the desk, a heaviness that pressed down on the air in the fancy, round study.
Rebecca trailed behind him, her steps soft on the thick carpet. The Benelli shotgun felt reassuring in her grip, its weight a source of comfort as she moved, her eyes searching the dark corners of the room for any sign of danger.
James Marcus glanced up from the glass of dark liquid he was swirling. His sharp eyes, cool and assessing, moved over them with a hint of boredom, as if they were just curious specimens that had finally landed on the right slide.
"Welcome," he said, his voice smooth and deep, but there was something unsettling about it, like a polite mask hiding something darker. "I'm really happy you could come."
"Come on in; don't be shy." He pointed with his glass at the huge one-way mirror that loomed on the far wall, a glimpse into a nightmarish arena. "You arrived just in time; the main event is just starting right now."
Looking into the mirror, the scene felt vivid yet terrifyingly far away. In the round room below, a single person pressed against the wall, moving quickly and with sharp, practiced precision.
Billy Coen stood there, sweat and dirt streaking his face, eyes filled with fierce resolve. His combat knife glinted in the dim light as he fought off the reaching, groaning hands of a dozen stumbling zombies.
He was skilled, each move precise and deadly, but the numbers were relentless, a steady wave of doom closing in.
Rebecca's breath caught in her throat, a quiet, hurt sound she struggled to hold back. She tightened her grip on the shotgun, her knuckles turning white.
Every muscle in her body tensed, driven by the urge to act, to help.
Jun noticed her change in posture and the rush of nervous energy.
He adjusted his stance slightly, letting his shoulder touch hers, offering a steady, reassuring presence, a quiet signal to pause and take in the moment.
Marcus wanted a show of strength, and he hoped for a reaction without thought.
"I really enjoy a lively family reunion; how about you?" Marcus thought for a moment, sipping slowly from his glass, a sly smile forming as he observed Billy's struggle.
"He's not family," Jun said, his voice steady and clear, slicing through the air without a hint of fear or anger, as if he were stating a simple fact.
His gray eyes focused on Marcus, piercing through the show to reveal the sad, fading brilliance underneath. "He's just another one of your playthings, just like us."
Marcus's smile grew, sharp and cold. "Oh, yes, he really is! A son who has lost his way, just like you."
"A sign of the old world's mistakes, now given a chance for… reassessment. To rise up in my new world."
He pointed once more at the window. "This is just the last test..."
"To find out if he belongs in the ecosystem, or if he should be… recycled."
Billy swung his weapon in a smooth, spinning motion, creating a clear space around him. But just as he caught his breath, two more zombies stumbled into the opening.
He felt exhausted, his movements becoming a bit less precise.
The moment felt heavy.
Rebecca felt the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her, and she knew she had to speak up.
"You're a monster," she said, her voice shaking, not from fear, but from a deep, burning anger.
"I see the world in a way that others might not, my dear child!" Marcus snapped, his calm slipping just for a moment, showing the intense passion hidden beneath his smooth exterior.
"I'm cleaning up the world, getting rid of its flaws!"
"What you call monsters, I see as a beautiful, untouched future!" He leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on them, moving over them like a swarm.
"And you… you two are the most interesting parts of this equation."
"The tiny S.T.A.R.S. Blossom, so full of life and potential," his eyes swept over Rebecca, a gaze that felt both cold and invasive, taking in her vibrant form as if she were a prized animal, "and her wild, mysterious guard dog."
He turned his gaze to Jun, a flicker of real, eager curiosity lighting up his eyes. "A being that defies nature, battling with the power of a virus and the intellect of a human."
"You have ripped apart my finest creations like they were nothing. It's so interesting that you absolutely hold the secret to making my work truly shine."
Jun stayed calm, not reacting to the provocation. He stood still, like a solid rock against Marcus's angry words, his mind busy with thoughts and calculations.
The arena stretched out before him, the one-way glass reflecting his focused gaze, and Marcus stood ready in his spot.
Everything felt like a performance, and each stage had a hidden trapdoor, a clever rigging, and a secret weakness.
•••
Marcus looked at Jun, his curiosity growing stronger. He looked into Jun's eyes, enjoying the quiet thinking there, like watching a tricky puzzle come together.
"You're searching for the strings, right?" Marcus let out a soft purr, placing his glass down gently on the smooth oak with a quiet clink. "Pull the lever, flip the switch. Heh, pathetic. You approach things like a mechanic, not like a composer."
He pressed his fingers together, his gaze briefly wandering back to the chaotic scene unfolding below. Billy had climbed onto a chunk of fallen machinery, finding a shaky spot above the chaos. Below him, the zombies gathered, their decayed hands reaching up, scraping against the cold metal.
"The composition is everything," Marcus said, his voice steady and clear. "The environment, the tension, the person's desire to live…
Everything needs to come together to create real information. What you see as a 'trap' is just a place for transformation.
The question isn't about how to get away from it, but what is created inside it."
Jun felt he finally got the hang of the game. Marcus wasn't just crazy; he was a master of pain, a storyteller of sadness.
Attacking him directly could be just what he was hoping for—another example of aggression. They had to turn down his piece completely and find a new tune to turn up the situation.
He finally found what he was looking for: a hidden, sturdy panel on the wall by the grand piano. It blended in with the dark wood, but a soft glow from a standby light peeked out at the edge.
A backup control point.
It wasn't the main console on the desk; it was a secondary terminal, probably used to manage the environment in the arena.
It could be the way the light falls or perhaps the sounds around.
A bold and straightforward idea suddenly came together in his mind. It wasn't just about battling the creatures in the pit. It was about shifting the very rules of the pit.
"Huu..." He moved his weight a bit, and that small shift caught Rebecca's eye. He kept his gaze away from her, yet his feelings moved through the narrow gap between them, a quiet understanding forged by their shared struggle.
He barely nodded at the panel on the wall, then quickly glanced at the shotgun in her hands for just a moment.
Draw his fire. I need a second.
He noticed the understanding light up in her brown eyes, a fierce and trusting glow. She stayed silent.
She took a small step to the side, interrupting the line Jun had made, and aimed the Benelli straight at Marcus's chest.
"Let him go," she demanded, her voice no longer trembling but cold and hard as steel. "Terminate the experiment now."
Marcus's smile grew, amusement shining through even more. He shifted his gaze from the shotgun's barrel to Rebecca's resolute expression, completely unbothered. "What is it, my dear? Are you really going to shoot me?"
"Chuckles, then what?"
"You can see clearly! The doors have been closed tight, the air thickens with gas, and you step into the arena beside your friend, ready for the next act."
"It's ironic; violence feels like a blunt tool. It feels so… final."
He stayed still, then he moved smoothly.
His quick reflexes made the space between him and the wall panel feel like one smooth movement.
Easily he slipped away from the wall like a whisper, his combat knife held firmly in his hand, ready for action. He got to the panel just as Marcus's eyes grew wide, his head beginning to turn away from Rebecca.
Jun didn't attempt to break into it. He was in too much of a rush for any delicate touches.
He just slammed the pommel of his knife into the center of the panel, putting all his strength into the blow.
The metal folded in with a loud CRUNCH. Sparks flew, crackling and hissing from the broken plastic surface.
The standby light flickered and then vanished. For a moment, silence filled the arena below.
Suddenly, every overhead light in the round room burst with a series of loud pops, leaving Billy Coen and the swarm of zombies in complete, total darkness.
It happened all at once, a whirlwind of confusion. The dull groans of the zombies turned into jumbled, aimless snarls.
The shuffle of feet turned into a chaotic rush, with the heavy thuds of bodies bumping against one another and the walls.
Billy's shape disappeared into the darkness, but soon after, a sudden, agonized scream from a zombie and the thud of a blade striking true showed he was making the most of the confusion.
Marcus jumped up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor, his calm demeanor fading away. "What did you do?!" he let out a loud roar, his voice filled with a deep, raw anger.
Jun turned away from the smoking panel, gripping his knife tightly, a dark sense of satisfaction bubbling in his stomach. The system buzzed happily at his clever, roundabout answer.
[Mastery Acknowledged: Environmental Sabotage. Points +75.]
"You said violence was a dull tool," Jun remarked, his voice slicing through Marcus's anger. "I'm with you on that." This felt like… A shift in the light.
In the dim light of the one-way mirror, all they could hear was the battle—a chaotic mix of sounds and sharp, lethal clashes that Marcus no longer controlled.
The script has been broken.
Marcus's cold, reptilian eyes now shone with a promise of personal, direct revenge.
•••
Marcus's anger was a quiet storm that filled the lavish study, more frightening than any shout.
The polished exterior of the cultured visionary faded, exposing the wild, obsessive fanatic underneath.
His eyes, fixed on Jun, showed no curiosity anymore, just a deep, overwhelming promise.
"A change in lighting," Marcus said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You fucking maggot! Do you really believe you've tricked me?!"
"You've gone from being just a specimen to someone who really gets on my nerves!" His hand moved slowly to the edge of the desk.
"!!!" Jun felt a sharp warning just before Marcus made his move. The man didn't go for a weapon; instead, he pressed a concealed switch.
With a sharp hiss-thunk, heavy metal shutters started to lower from the ceiling, not covering the windows but blocking the one-way mirror.
The view of the arena below vanished, and the room felt sealed with a heavy sense of finality.
At the same time, the only door they had come through closed quietly, the sound of heavy bolts sliding into place ringing out in the now tight space.
They were trapped inside.
"The recital is over," Marcus said, adjusting his suit jacket with a quick pull. "It's time for the dissection."
He shifted then, and it felt completely different from his earlier, relaxed stance. He moved quickly, almost too quickly, a shadow in a dark suit with a dangerous purpose.
He wasn't aiming for Jun; he was reaching for Rebecca, his hand stretched out not to hit, but to grab, to take the one he thought was easier to overpower first.
Jun was on the move. His quick reflexes matched Marcus's speed, but it was his mind that raced ahead. He let the lunge pass by, as he knew clearly where it would finish.
As Marcus approached, Jun turned, positioning himself not between Marcus and Rebecca, but alongside Marcus's path.
As the man's hand reached out for Rebecca's arm, Jun quickly raised his own hand, not to stop him, but to gently steer.
He grabbed Marcus's wrist, using his own force against him, twisting with a powerful grip. With a grunt and a careful twist of his hips, he executed a powerful judo throw.
Marcus was taken by surprise as the precise counterattack pulled him off his feet. He stumbled into his grand piano, the keys clashing loudly and the wood cracking, the beautiful instrument sounding a deep, unhappy groan.
Rebecca quickly stepped back, her instincts kicking in as she lifted the shotgun. But with bodies and furniture all around, finding a clear shot was out of the question.
Marcus tumbled off the broken piano, a grimace on his face, a thin line of blood now staining his flawless cheek.
The fall would have broken the bones of an ordinary man, but he got back up with just a little stiffness. "Hmm, enhanced... just as I thought," he said, his eyes shining with a blend of hurt and wild thrill. "This information is truly invaluable."
This time, he was here for Jun, and it felt different. All the tricks were gone, and the talking had stopped.
It was a flurry of fierce, skilled blows—a hand slicing toward the throat, a quick kick to the knee, fingers ready to dig at eyes.
It had a look that came from rough, useful design, shaped by the strange biology that powered his inventions.
Jun defended himself, moving quickly to parry and dodge the worst of the attacks. But a sharp hit to his ribs knocked the breath out of him, leaving him gasping.
Another line of fire sliced through his bicep.
Marcus had a surprising strength, and he moved with a quickness that caught everyone off guard.
Jun was holding his ground, but he felt the pressure mounting as he was pushed back toward the bookshelf.
He was battling a master in his own territory.
He felt the urge for something more, a shift that would turn things around once more.
He dodged a jab and took a quick look at Rebecca, locking eyes with her. He tilted his head slightly towards Marcus's desk, pointing to the main console that probably controlled everything—the shutters, the door, and the arena.
"!!!" Rebecca felt a flicker of realization; a light of understanding shone in her eyes. Jun deftly avoided Marcus's swing, rolling to the side to catch his furious attention, while Rebecca quietly slipped away from her position.
She didn't mean to hit Marcus as she hurried to the large oak desk.
"No!" Marcus shouted, his concentration breaking apart. He pulled away from Jun, wanting to stop her, but his fixation on work clouded his mind, making it hard to concentrate on the fight.
It was the chance Jun had been waiting for. As Marcus spun around, Jun lunged forward. Not with the knife, but with his own body.
He leaned in and pushed forward like a battering ram, his strength concentrated into one powerful hit.
The tackle hit Marcus right in the back. The man exhaled sharply, rushing forward and slamming into the side of his desk just as Rebecca arrived.
Rebecca moved without a second thought. She lifted the Benelli, aiming not at Marcus, but directly at the intricate console before her. With the gun held close, she squeezed the trigger.
BOOM!
The noise felt like the end of the world in that small room. The console burst apart, sending sparks flying, glass scattering everywhere, and wires twisting in chaos.
All the screens on the wall went dark in an instant. The soft buzz of unseen machines faltered and stopped.
With a loud, clanking sound, the bolts on the door slid open. The shutters above the mirror paused, then shook and started to lift unevenly, their mechanism broken.
Marcus pushed himself up from the desk, gazing at the wrecked heart of his control room, his face showing pure, deep shock.
A single, harsh shotgun blast had ended his life's work, his carefully crafted symphony of control.
He stared at the wreckage, then turned to Jun and Rebecca, his eyes wide, filled with a deep sadness that felt almost unreal.
"You… You animals," he whispered, his voice empty, just a faint, shattered sound.
Jun stood, panting, his body sore, but his spirit burned bright with a strong, victorious energy. The system's approval flowed through him, not cold, but like a warm wave of victory.
They didn't just survive the composer; they broke his instrument into pieces.
[Critical Objective Completed: Sabotage Marcus's Control. Points +200.]
[Confrontation: James Marcus - Neutralized.]
The danger had passed. But the arena below felt like a mystery waiting to be uncovered.
(End of Chapter)
•••
Jun's Current Status:
Points: 1225
Skills: Basic Strength, Lockpicking, Threat Sense, Enhanced Regeneration, Pain Suppression, Enhanced Reflexes
Equipment: Combat Knife, Benelli M3 Shotgun (Rebecca).
Bound Companions: None
Active Objectives: Locate and extract Billy Coen from the arena; escape the training facility.