The battered Hilux drove for nearly two more hours down the ruined stretches of Asian Highway 1. It was now six in the morning, and the eastern sky over the Shan hills was turning a pale, fish-belly white with the rising sun.
Looking at the magnificent, blood-orange sky breaking through the jungle mist, Dominik's heart finally settled into a strange, cold calm. This was the first time he had truly relaxed since opening his eyes in this hell.
If he thought about it carefully, it had been less than twenty-four hours since he had "died" and awakened with the System.
But in that short time, he had experienced the most thrilling, terrifying moments of his two lifetimes.
He had survived an execution, engaged in a desperate gunfight with The Syndicate's cartel militia, navigated the apocalyptic streets of Mandalay, and successfully rescued the sister he had sworn to protect.
Immediately after, he had extracted an Oxford professor and his students, who—for reasons yet unknown—were being guarded by highly trained diplomatic security agents.
Any one of these events was enough to break a normal person.
However, Dominik had adapted. The System's attribute points helped, but it was more than that; he had accepted the reality of his rebirth. In the future, he would undoubtedly encounter even worse situations. He couldn't afford to be fragile.
Despite not sleeping all night, Dominik didn't feel overwhelmingly exhausted. The adrenaline was still humming in his veins, aided perhaps by his newly boosted physical stats from the System.
He was the only one fully awake in the cab. The four people in the back seat had long been dead to the world, exhausted by terror. Even Professor Quaid was snoring softly against the window.
As for Simon, he sat in the passenger seat with his SCAR-L resting across his lap, his head tilted back. But Dominik knew the operator wasn't truly asleep; he was resting his eyes, existing in that twilight state of combat readiness.
The Hilux drove for another three hours, navigating around abandoned vehicles and the occasional wandering infected. As the morning heat began to bake the asphalt, everyone in the truck gradually began to stir.
Simon, who had been quietly monitoring the road ahead, flipped his weapon's selector to safe and looked over at Dominik. "You're drifting. Pull over up ahead."
"Ah-woo~" Dominik yawned deeply, the exhaustion finally hitting him like a physical weight. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "Yeah, good call. I'm seeing double."
Simon glanced back at the waking passengers. "We'll pull over and rest for ten minutes. If you need to use the restroom, do it in the bushes."
Hearing this, Laura raised a hesitant hand. "Simon... does that apply to us too?"
"Yes," Simon nodded, his masked face impassive. "Even if the highway looks clear, the jungle isn't. I'll sweep a perimeter behind that abandoned delivery van up ahead. Once I declare it clear, you girls can go behind it. We won't look."
"Mm-hmm~" Laura smiled, the relief evident on her dirty face. "Thank you, Simon."
"Right." Simon turned back to the road.
The pickup truck coasted to a stop on the shoulder of the highway. As soon as he killed the engine, Dominik hopped out, grabbed a bottle of warm water from the truck bed, and splashed it over his face and neck to shock himself awake.
Simon escorted the three girls behind the rusted delivery van. After doing a quick tactical sweep of the immediate treeline, he stepped back, giving them privacy while keeping his rifle ready.
After washing his face, Dominik grabbed a scavenged MRE ration bar and sat on the rear bumper, tearing into the dry, tasteless food. He tossed a foil packet of crackers and a water bottle toward Quaid. "Here, Professor. Eat."
"Thank you, my boy." Quaid caught the rations. Regardless of his usual academic standards of cleanliness, he sat down heavily on the dusty asphalt next to the truck and began to eat his first real meal since the outbreak.
After chewing a dry cracker, Quaid looked at Dominik. "Are you heading south to Bangkok?"
"Gulp." Dominik swallowed the dense ration bar and washed it down. "Yes. The radio chatter before the grid went down said the Thai military was establishing heavily fortified quarantine zones south of the border. We're pushing for Bangkok."
"I see." Quaid finished his water, wiping his mouth. "Um, Dominik, my boy... you wouldn't mind if my students and I... accompanied you to the safe zone, would you?"
"Of course not," Dominik said with a tired chuckle.
He had never considered abandoning them. He and Simon had practically stripped the service station bare; they had enough high-calorie food and water for six people for several days. Furthermore, the Hilux's bed was loaded with extra diesel jerry cans. Range wasn't an issue.
"Thank heavens." Quaid smiled in immense relief. "I owe you a great debt."
"Don't mention it, Professor," Dominik said.
While they were chatting, Laura and the two other students emerged from behind the van.
It was only now, in the harsh daylight, that Dominik truly got a good look at Quaid's two remaining graduate students.
The first girl looked exactly like a stereotypical overachiever: she wore thick, round glasses, a sensible plaid skirt, and had her hair tied in practical pigtails. Quaid had called her Jean. Jean Grey.
But when Dominik's gaze shifted to the second girl, his brain stalled.
She had natural blonde hair cut in a bob, striking features, and was wearing a very specific outfit: a green plaid skirt and an orange, sleeveless turtleneck top.
Ashley. Quaid had called her Ashley Graham.
Dominik's eyes widened slightly. His gamer brain instantly recognized the names and the aesthetic.Ashley Graham from Resident Evil 4?
The System wasn't just summoning soldiers; it seemed this alternate reality itself was populated by familiar archetypes from his past life's pop culture.
But more importantly, the context clicked in Dominik's mind. In his previous life's fiction, Ashley Graham was the daughter of the US President.
If this world followed similar logic, this girl wasn't just a random grad student. She was the daughter of a massive political figure—a high-ranking diplomat, a senator, or maybe even the President of this world's equivalent superpower.
That explained the heavy diplomatic security detail in a cheap hotel. The British and American embassies weren't sending elite agents into a hot zone for an Oxford professor; they were sent to extract her. And Quaid was likely keeping her true identity a secret to protect her.
Dominik quickly composed his surprised expression. Now was not the time to blow her cover or ask dangerous questions.
He stood up, grabbed a packaged sandwich and a fresh bottle of water from the cooler, and walked over to Laura.
"Here, eat up," Dominik said, handing her the food. "If you're still hungry, there's beef jerky in my pack. You can snack while we drive so you don't get bored."
"Thanks, Dom!" Laura took the food, offering a small, tired smile. She looked at the jerky and wrinkled her nose. "I don't want the jerky, my jaw already hurts from clenching my teeth all night."
"Heh." Dominik reached out and affectionately ruffled his sister's ash-blonde hair. "Alright. Whatever you want. Let's just get back on the road."