The heavy double doors of the kitchen swung shut behind Aria, muffling the screams from the banquet hall.
Silence.
But it wasn't a peaceful silence. It was heavy, mixed with the hiss of a gas stove left running and the smell of burning oil.
Aria didn't relax. She kicked off her high heels.
Clack. Clack.
Barefoot.
The expensive Jimmy Choo shoes were discarded like trash. In this new world, they were death traps. She tore the hem of her black evening gown, ripping the silk up to her thigh to allow free movement.
Her white legs were stained with splashes of zombie blood.
She gripped her steak knife and crept forward.
The hotel kitchen was a maze of stainless steel tables, hanging pots, and industrial ovens.
Chop. Chop. Chop.
A rhythmic sound echoed from the prep station.
Aria stopped. She held her breath.
Around the corner, a massive figure stood with its back to her.
It was the Head Chef. He was a giant of a man, easily 300 pounds. His white uniform was soaked red.
On the cutting board in front of him wasn't a fish or a steak.
It was a severed human arm. The Rolex on the wrist identified it as the hotel manager.
Chop.
The Chef raised a heavy meat cleaver and brought it down, severing the fingers one by one. He wasn't eating them. He was just... chopping. Mechanically.
[Ding!]
[Target Detected: Mutated Infected (Level 2) - "The Butcher"]
[Danger Level: High]
[Advice: Run.]
Aria narrowed her eyes.
"Run?" she whispered to herself. "No."
Her eyes locked onto the meat cleaver in the Chef's hand. It was a professional-grade Wüsthof chopper. Heavy, sharp, durable.
Her steak knife was a toy compared to that.
She needed an upgrade.
Aria picked up a stainless steel mixing bowl from a nearby table.
She tossed it to the far corner of the kitchen.
CLANG!
The metal bowl hit the floor, spinning noisily.
The Chef stopped chopping. He turned around slowly. His face was half-eaten, the jaw hanging loose, but his eyes burned with a violent, red hunger.
"Rrrgh..."
He spotted the noise, not Aria. He lumbered toward the corner, dragging his heavy feet.
Aria moved.
She was a shadow. Thanks to the Agility points she stole from the first zombie, she was faster than a normal human.
She sprinted toward the prep station. She didn't attack the Chef. Not yet.
She grabbed a heavy iron skillet from the rack.
The Chef realized he had been tricked. He roared, turning back with surprising speed for his size.
ROAR!
He charged, swinging the cleaver wildly.
Aria didn't retreat. She slid across the greasy floor tiles, ducking under the deadly swing. The cleaver smashed into a steel table, sparking and leaving a deep gash in the metal.
Close.
If that hit her, she would be split in two.
Aria was now behind him.
She jumped, stepping onto a stool, and swung the iron skillet with both hands.
BAM!
She smashed it directly onto the back of the Chef's head.
The sound was like a gong. The skull cracked audibly.
The giant stumbled forward, stunned, crashing into the hot stove.
"Now," Aria hissed.
She didn't hesitate. She leaped onto his broad back, wrapping her legs around his torso like a vice.
She jammed her steak knife into the side of his neck, twisting it violently.
Black blood sprayed like a broken pipe, coating her arms.
The Chef thrashed, trying to throw her off. He slammed his back against the wall.
Thud!
Aria gasped as the impact knocked the wind out of her lungs. Pain shot through her ribs.
But she didn't let go. She dug her fingers into his open wound, ripping at the muscle.
"Die, you pig!"
She pulled the knife out and stabbed again. And again. And again.
Comparison to her past life fueled her rage. She had been weak. She had been eaten. She would never be prey again.
Finally, the giant body stopped moving. It collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud, taking Aria down with it.
Aria rolled away, panting heavily. Her chest heaved. She was covered in gore from head to toe.
[Ding!]
[Target Eliminated: Mutated Infected (Level 2)]
[Bonus Experience for killing a higher-level enemy.]
[Plundering...]
[Critical Success!]
[You have stolen: 5 Strength Points.]
[You have stolen Skill: Basic Blade Mastery (Level 3).]
[Skill Effect: You know how to cut. Flesh, bone, or steel—you find the weak point instantly.]
Aria lay on the cold floor for a second, feeling the surge of strength. Her muscles knit together, becoming denser. The pain in her ribs faded.
She stood up.
She walked over to the dead Chef and pried the heavy meat cleaver from his stiff fingers.
It felt perfect in her hand. Balanced. Deadly.
[Item Obtained: Chef's Bloodstained Cleaver (Common Grade)]
[Attack: +15]
Aria swung it experimentally. Whoosh. It cut the air with a menacing sound.
"Much better," she muttered.
She turned to the pantry. She had work to do. She grabbed a large tactical backpack (probably belonging to one of the security guards) and started filling it.
Canned beef. Dried pasta. Bottles of water. High-calorie energy bars.
She didn't take everything. Just what she could carry without slowing down.
She zipped up the bag and slung it over her shoulder.
She was ready to leave the hotel. The city center was a death trap; she needed to get to her Safe House in the suburbs before the mutations got worse.
Aria walked to the back exit of the kitchen, which led to the alleyway.
She pushed the door open.
A cold wind blew in.
But she didn't step out.
She froze.
In the alleyway, under the flickering streetlamp, stood a figure.
It wasn't a zombie.
It was a man in a black tactical vest, holding a crossbow. He was aiming directly at her forehead.
He wasn't panicked like the guests. He was calm.
"Nice kill with the fat guy," the man said, his voice rough. He chewed on a toothpick, grinning. "But hand over the bag, sweetheart. Or I put a bolt through your pretty eye."
Aria looked at the crossbow bolt. Then she looked at the man.
Her System interface flickered.
[Target: Human (Raider)]
[Status: Hostile]
Aria's grip on the meat cleaver tightened.
She didn't tremble. She smiled.
"You want my bag?" she asked, tilting her head. "Come and take it."