At the secret facility of the evil corporation, work was in full swing—every employee was busy, carefully avoiding even the slightest mistake. No one wanted to incur the wrath of Director Caleb Williams, who had become even more irritable in recent days.

The most significant changes had occurred in the analytics department. Recent events had enraged the director so much that even the most loyal employees, who had faithfully served Live Corporation for years, could not escape the consequences. Some of them had joined the ranks of “research material” in the corporation’s laboratories.

Caleb now sat behind a massive desk, his face displaying icy indifference, though his eyes burned with barely contained fury. Recent events had shattered his plans, like a carefully constructed chess game suddenly disrupted by a chaotic force. Everything had gone downhill. And it all started when the corporation’s African branch suddenly went silent.

Caleb knew exactly who was responsible. From the very beginning, he had never trusted Wesker. That man always put his own interests above everything else. He was a snake that would eventually bite the hand that fed him.

Williams tapped his finger rhythmically on the desk as he watched the satellite transmission from Africa. The longer he looked, the more his rage boiled over. The dog he had kept on a leash had decided to rebel.

“Has anyone found Wesker? Where did that bastard run off to?” His voice was low, but the threat in it was unmistakable.

The employees in the analytics department lowered their heads, avoiding his gaze. They were already doing everything possible, but Wesker had covered his tracks flawlessly. Moreover, it was becoming clear that the fall of the African branch had been part of a carefully planned operation. Now, chaos reigned there—the Uroboros virus had overrun the territory, and the laboratory housing the Marker fragment had been lost.

Only one question remained: had Wesker taken the fragment with him, or had he left it in the ruins of the branch?

Several rapid response teams had already been sent to Africa. Their task was to assess the situation and, if possible, recover the lost artifact. However, as before, communication with them was soon lost. There was no need to guess what had happened to those squads.

“No, sir,” Jonathan, the officer in charge of the operation, broke the silence. “We’ve already sent five rapid response teams, but all of them have gone missing. Communication was lost just as quickly as with the previous teams.”

“And you still haven’t found any traces? Or are you just sending incompetent idiots?!” Caleb clenched the armrests of his chair, trying to suppress his rising anger.

“No, sir!” Jonathan answered hastily. “All soldiers were thoroughly trained. The last group consisted of an experimental squad of super-soldiers. Before the signal was lost, the captain managed to send us a damaged recording. We’ve already restored it.”

Caleb frowned, leaning forward.

“What recording?”

Jonathan pulled up the recovered footage, which had been sent just before communication with the rapid response team was lost. The analytics department fell silent—every pair of eyes was fixed on the massive screen.

The recording began playing. The footage showed the soldiers cautiously making their way through the dark corridors of an ancient underground temple. At first, Caleb didn’t recognize the place, but when Jonathan displayed archived data and location markers on the screen, it came back to him—this was the site where the legendary flower “Stairway to Heaven” had been discovered, a key component in the creation of the Uroboros virus.

Caleb’s frown deepened as the recording continued. The soldiers ventured further into the temple, skillfully avoiding traps and fighting off aggressive natives infected with the virus. Their skin was covered in strange growths, and their movements were fast and sharp, like those of predators.

When the group reached the hall containing the first samples of the “Stairway to Heaven,” they found themselves near the entrance to the underground laboratory of the corporation’s African branch. The soldiers entered an elevator that was supposed to take them down. At that moment, interference began to appear in the recording. Occasionally, strange symbols flickered between frames, as if hidden within the footage, but none of the analysts noticed.

The deeper the group ventured into the laboratory, the stronger the interference became. The footage jumped erratically, and the soldiers on screen started behaving strangely—some suddenly clutched their heads, while others glanced around, as if hearing something invisible.

When they entered a vast chamber, the distortion worsened. Strange, unnatural voices echoed through the speakers, voices that clearly did not belong to the team members. Then, after another frame skip, the footage showed the soldiers in a full-blown panic, fleeing while firing blindly into the darkness behind them.

At last, they reached another hall. In the center stood a bizarre structure that didn’t match the usual architectural style of the laboratory. The camera trembled, the image froze for a moment—then the recording abruptly cut off. Immediately after, those same mysterious symbols flashed chaotically across the screen, accompanied by distorted voices.

As soon as the strange symbols filled the screen, a sharp wave of pain swept through the entire analytics department. Some employees experienced dizziness. Even Jonathan instinctively grabbed his head, despite having already gone through this when he first reviewed the footage.

Only one person remained unaffected—Caleb Williams. His cold gaze remained fixed on the screen, and the rhythmic tapping of his finger against the desk brought everyone back to reality. Jonathan hurriedly shut off the recording, but the lingering effects of watching it still hung in the air.

“Aside from this footage, were you able to recover any other data transmitted by the team?” Caleb asked, continuing to tap his finger against the desk.

“No, sir,” Jonathan replied, shaking his head. “All other reports and audio recordings are so badly corrupted that they can’t be restored. Even the radio transmissions were completely wiped. The only thing we managed to recover was the recording from the team captain’s camera, and even that was incredibly difficult. You saw it yourself, sir.”

Caleb remained silent, contemplating the situation.

“Hmm…” he merely hummed, still tapping his finger against the desk.

Then he instructed Jonathan to send him the footage for a detailed review. The order was carried out immediately.

Caleb played the recording and began analyzing it frame by frame, paying particular attention to the moment the team entered the laboratory. The symbols that flashed during the interference seemed familiar. Marker fragments…

He had seen those symbols before.

Why did they appear in the footage?

Caleb rewound the last few seconds over and over until he paused on a single frame. He squinted.

In the background, among the shadows, stood a strange structure.

It clearly stood out from its surroundings.

Caleb zoomed in on the image.

He had seen something like this before.

But where?..

His thoughts were interrupted by the sharp sound of footsteps. One of the staff members burst into the analytics department, his face pale as if he had seen a ghost. In his hands, he held a report.

“Director Williams, urgent news!” he shouted, breathing heavily.

Caleb turned his gaze toward him.

Everyone in the room fell silent.

“We… we’ve lost contact with our last branch in Japan,” the employee said, swallowing hard.

Caleb furrowed his brow, contemplating what he had just heard. First, there was the loss of the African branch, along with all the strike teams sent there. Only the last team managed to send a recording from a chest camera before they disappeared. And now, the last Japanese branch had stopped making contact.

“What do you mean ‘lost contact’?” Caleb asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Sir, Gakuto Tanigawa, the head of the Japanese branch, hasn’t sent any reports for two days,” the employee replied. “At first, we thought he had become immersed in his research again. Recently, a fragment of the Marker was delivered to his branch, and since then, he has rarely been in touch — instead, his secretary was doing the communications. However, for the past two days, there has been complete silence. We’ve tried reaching the branch in various ways, but with no success. Moreover, we couldn’t even connect to their servers. It’s as if the branch never existed.”

Caleb tapped his finger on the table, his frown deepening. The first thought that came to his mind was that Tanigawa had betrayed the Corporation. But he quickly dismissed it. He knew that people like Gakuto lived for their research and had little interest in anything else. When the Corporation offered him unlimited resources in exchange for cooperation, he agreed instantly without hesitation.

“But that’s not all, sir,” the employee added, interrupting Caleb’s thoughts.

“Speak,” Caleb commanded.

“We’ve lost contact not only with Japan, but also with branches in China, Europe — specifically in France — and in the Slavic Empire.”

A heavy silence fell in the room. One could hear a pin drop. Caleb’s frown deepened even further. Four branches had been lost in the past few days, and no one knew why.

“Are there any details about the causes?” he asked.

“Something happened at the Chinese branch. They managed to send an SOS signal, but before we could take any action, a huge tentacle emerged from the ground and destroyed the entire complex. Now, there’s a giant hole where the branch used to be. We haven’t sent strike teams to investigate yet, but from the satellite view, it looks terrifying. However, we can’t fully assess the situation because we don’t know what exactly attacked the branch.”

The employee handed Caleb a tablet and played the latest surveillance footage from the Chinese branch. On the screen, something enormous slowly rose from the ground. Then the footage shifted, and the camera only captured a split second of the disaster: the branch vanished in an instant, leaving behind an abyss. The tentacle that destroyed the complex was made up of many human bodies fused together into something grotesque.

“Red Queen,” Caleb called.

A holographic figure of artificial intelligence appeared behind him.

“How can I assist, Director Williams?”

“Is it possible to recover the recordings or reports from the Chinese branch, as well as from the other lost sites?”

“It is impossible,” Red Queen replied.

“Why?” Caleb asked, his mood darkening further.

“Unknown. All attempts to recover the data have resulted in failures. Based on the available information, all the lost branches were attacked by an unknown virus, which completely took control of their systems. Even the experimental samples at those branches were infected with this computer virus.”

Caleb silently stared at the hologram, realizing the magnitude of the problem. One thought kept flickering in his mind: who or what is behind this?

His frown deepened as he realized that even the Red Queen couldn’t handle the mysterious virus that had infected the branches. Who is behind this? Where did it come from? These questions kept gnawing at him. The situation had spiraled out of control, and Caleb understood that the only person who could provide clear guidance was the Director himself.

Rising from the table, he headed for the door, determined to get answers. The Red Queen watched him leave, but when the door closed behind him, she vanished, leaving behind only a silent question — what was she thinking in that moment?

Work in the analytical department should have returned to its usual course, but unease hung in the air. Employees exchanged tense glances — with each passing minute, the situation grew worse, and no one could predict where it would lead.

Meanwhile, on the military base in Okinawa, life went on as usual. People worked, trained, and tried to hold on to whatever normalcy they could in a world where the dead rose and attacked the living.

With the first rays of the sun, the base came to life: some went fishing to distract themselves from grim thoughts, while others, with a cup of coffee or tea in hand, discussed the news with their comrades. The sentries on duty were replaced, allowing those who had stood guard through the night to rest.

Alex sat on a lounge chair right on the runway of the aircraft carrier, basking in the morning sun while smoking a cigarette. He had sacrificed sleep to finish an important task. The eerie feeling had lingered throughout yesterday: the world was about to change — and not for the better. It wasn’t just intuition, but knowledge based on his calculations.

His hand absentmindedly stroked Stitch’s head, but his thoughts kept circling around what he might be missing. Or more precisely, what events he had yet to predict. And then the realization came — the scenario he had predicted had already begun to unfold. According to his calculations, the Evil Corporation was losing its branches worldwide. That meant a new player had entered the game.

How bad was it? Hard to say. To predict what would happen next, he needed to understand how many Markers had been created and how far along that process had come.

“Did you stay here all night?” a familiar female voice came from behind him.

Alex smiled, immediately recognizing it. Turning around, he met the gaze of Brunhilde’s emerald eyes. She smiled in return, walked closer, and lay down beside him, hugging him and burying her nose in his neck.

Alex ran his hand through her black hair, continuing to think through his plans. The more Markers appeared on Earth, the worse the situation would become. He urgently needed to come up with an effective way to destroy them. As a last resort, he could ask GIR or MIMI to alter the orbits of satellites and bring them down directly on the Marker.

“What are you thinking about so early?” Brunhilde asked, taking his cheeks in her hands.

“About the unpleasant feeling that’s been bothering me,” Alex sighed.

“Seems like it’s bothering me too. It’s been following me since yesterday. The situation seems to be getting worse.”

“If you’re feeling it too, then you understand what I mean. I think that bastard behind this is deliberately shaking up the game board to speed things up. As if he’s getting bored.”

“Maybe that’s the case. It’s been too quiet these past few days,” came the voice of Göndul, emerging from Alex’s spiritual space.

Göndul settled on the other side of Alex and, as if nothing had happened, also hugged him. Brunhilde squinted, noticing her sister’s antics. After that night when the girls had a bit too much to drink, she clearly remembered seeing Göndul in the middle of the process. At the time, she thought it was just a drunken fantasy, but now, seeing Göndul’s sly smile, Brunhilde was sure she hadn’t been mistaken. However, it didn’t make sense to argue with her sister now, so she just sighed and turned back to Alex.

“So, what are you planning?” Brunhilde asked, wanting to know his plans.

“I don’t know yet. First, I need to gather more information. Too many unknowns,” Alex replied, shaking his head.

“Alright, enough thinking about the bad stuff,” Brunhilde said, deciding to change the subject. “Tell me, have you finished working on the aircraft carrier?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you see the big gun? We finished it last night, and through the night, we worked on the living quarters. According to my calculations, we’ll be able to leave Okinawa by evening,” Alex answered with a slight smile.

Brunhilde followed his gaze and only now noticed the massive gun that she had previously ignored. She remembered how much effort Alex had put into convincing Rebecca to take the BFG from the gremlin and not let him steal it back. She became curious about how quickly he and his assistants had managed, but when she saw the rainbow-like shimmer of magic as Alex’s fingers moved, Brunhilde immediately understood: he had used his power to speed up the process. Most likely, his uneasy premonition had pushed him to do it.

“So, all that’s left is to load the gear and equipment, and we can leave?” Brunhilde said thoughtfully, tapping her finger on her chin.

“If it were that simple. We need to gather all the supplies from the base’s warehouses: ammunition, shells, equipment… And don’t forget the transport, because without it, we won’t get very far. In general, if everything goes according to plan, we’ll set off by evening,” Alex summarized.

Brunhilde nodded in agreement. Göndul, however, silently pressed herself against Alex, not participating in the conversation. She spent most of her time in his spiritual space with her sisters, so she wasn’t particularly concerned about the preparations — the main thing was that she had the chance to be close to Alex.

Suddenly, the clang of the cargo lift rising up broke the silence. Before disappearing, Göndul kissed Alex on the cheek, and her image dissolved, leaving only a faint glow behind. Alex closed his eyes and, spreading his mana throughout the dock, instantly identified who was approaching.

“It’s Yuriko,” he said, opening his eyes.

Brunhilde nodded in agreement and settled back onto his chest, enjoying the moment.

Yuriko was ascending in the cargo lift, lazily leaning against the wall. Alex hadn’t slept with her last night, and she felt as if she hadn’t gotten a full night’s rest. Over the past few days, she had grown accustomed to falling asleep in his arms, and now, without it, her sleep felt incomplete. She couldn’t help but drift into thoughts of those cozy mornings when she woke up beside him, feeling the warmth of his body, and then receiving his gentle morning kiss…

These memories reminded her of what she had been deprived of in the past. Her ex-husband had always put his career above family, leaving all the household chores to her. He was entirely consumed by political struggles and never made time for her or their daughter, Saya. But now, none of that mattered anymore. Yuriko pushed those unnecessary thoughts from her mind and focused her gaze forward, waiting for the lift to reach the top level.

When the doors opened, she stepped out onto the upper deck of the aircraft carrier, glancing around. She hadn’t realized how much progress had been made on the weapons, and now, passing the installed cannons, she couldn’t help but marvel at Alex’s engineering genius.

As she walked a bit further, she noticed a lounge chair standing at the very bow of the ship and immediately guessed who was there. Quickening her pace, Yuriko soon saw Alex and Brunhilde lying together.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere, and here you are, lying around and cuddling?” Yuriko said indignantly as she approached them. Then her gaze shot to Brunhilde. “And you should’ve told everyone you found him.”

“Why? Isn’t it obvious where I could be? Besides, there are phones. You could’ve just called,” Alex replied, raising an eyebrow.

Yuriko just waved it off, sat down on the other side of Alex, and, as if nothing had happened, nestled into his chest. Alex looked at her in mild confusion—first, she was expressing irritation, and now she was smiling contentedly, as if that was how it was supposed to be. He glanced at Brunhilde for answers, but she simply ignored him, continuing to lie with her eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the morning sun.

“So, why were you looking for me?” he asked, addressing Yuriko.

“Why else?” Yuriko lifted her head and looked at him with a slight reproach. “You didn’t come to sleep, and without you, it was… just off. It felt like something important was missing. But now everything is back where it should be.” With those words, she hugged him tighter.

Alex smirked and, without protesting, started a conversation with Yuriko and Brunhilde about various small things. However, their talk gradually shifted to the upcoming trip to Alaska. Alex didn’t voice his suspicions, but he was absolutely certain: the road to Alaska would not be easy. Something inside him told him that trouble awaited them.

After lying down a little longer, Alex, Yuriko, and Brunhilde decided to join the others. Alex took out his phone and sent a message to Coco, asking her to gather everyone—he had important news to share. After receiving a short “Okay,” he got up from the lounge chair and reached out to help the girls stand up.

Descending from the aircraft carrier, the three of them headed toward the training ground, where everyone else was supposed to be gathered. From a distance, Alex spotted his team and waved at them. As soon as he approached, the girls immediately expressed their displeasure that he hadn’t spent the night with them. They all missed his warmth.

Alex just smirked and kissed each one in turn, instantly smoothing over their irritation.

While everyone was gathering, Alex thought to himself. Not long ago, their group had consisted only of the students and teachers from the school, but now it had grown to nearly two hundred people, if not more.

When everyone finally assembled, he stepped forward, ready to make the announcement.

“As I like to say… Welcome to another day in Zombieland,” Alex began with a light smirk. “I have good news for you: the work on the aircraft carrier is complete, and that means we’ll be leaving Okinawa today.”

The crowd buzzed with excitement, and applause rang out. Though Okinawa had been relatively safe, the raid groups had been finding more and more zombie nests every day. For every one they destroyed, two new ones appeared.

Alex raised his hand to gain their attention.

“Yes, yes, I understand, everyone’s excited. I am too. But there’s more. First, we’re heading to China, to the shores of Shenzhen. That’s where our allies and family are. So it’s time to load up supplies and prepare for a new journey. It’s time to continue our path! It’s time to go search for our All Blue!”

“That’s not the right genre,” came Kisara’s mocking voice. “We’re not a pirate crew, we’re not looking for the One Piece, and you’re not going to be King of the Pirates.”

The crowd burst into laughter. Everyone had gotten used to Alex mixing genres for a joke. But Kisara apparently didn’t know one thing: if Alex wanted to be the King of the Pirates, he would be.

“We’ll see, Kisara, we’ll see,” he grinned, then clapped his hands and added, “Now enough talking! Let’s load up the supplies and vehicles, and by evening, we’ll be on our way. So, move out! Time waits for no one!”

With these words, he flashed a wide smile, and his voice rang with genuine determination.

At Alex’s words, the camp immediately came to life. People bustled about, active loading began, and even the girls silently started gathering their things and moving them onto the aircraft carrier. Alex watched the hustle and bustle with a light smile, but soon pulled out his phone to check for the latest news from Casper.

He dialed the number and patiently waited for someone to pick up the phone.

“Hello, Alex! Missing me already, huh? Decided to call?” came a woman’s voice on the other end, tinged with a hint of amusement.

“Good morning to you too, Chikita,” he smirked. “How’s the situation in Shenzhen?”

“Not too bright, to be honest…” she replied with a heavy sigh.

“Hmm… so what’s happened since my last call?” Alex’s voice carried noticeable curiosity.

“How can I explain this… These zombies and mutants have been acting strange, especially the last couple of days. I can’t quite describe it, but… something’s off. They’re… changing.”

Alex listened in silence, his brow furrowing.

“I get you. Anyway, we’re ready to leave Okinawa, so we’ll be with you soon,” he said, trying to lift Chikita’s spirits a little.

“Well, that’s some good news. I was about ready to throw Casper out on the street…” she grumbled.

“Hey! I’m right here!” came a disgruntled voice from the background.

Alex laughed, and soon Chikita joined him.

“Try not to toss him out before we get there,” Alex said, still chuckling.

“I make no promises!” Chikita huffed. “I can’t wait to see what you look like.”

“I don’t know if I should be happy or scared…” Alex grinned. “I hope I won’t disappoint. See you soon, Chikita.”

“See you, Alex,” she replied, ending the call.

Slipping the phone into his pocket, Alex turned his gaze to the chaotic flurry of people and decided to join in with the loading. A long day lay ahead— with so many supplies and gear, the work would stretch well into the evening.

But he couldn’t afford to waste time.

Once they arrived in Alaska, the final act would begin.

It had always been this way.

And it would be the same this time.

He could feel it.

The war was about to enter a new, far more dangerous stage.

To be continued…

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep