After a few hours of travel, they finally reached the military camp.
"Halt the bus!"
A soldier stepped forward, assault rifle raised, his sharp eyes scanning the vehicle.
John leaned out slightly. "Relax, man. We're students from Saint Xavier School."
Another officer approached with a handheld device, quickly scanning their student identification against the database.
A few tense seconds passed—
Then a nod.
"Clear. Let them in."
The gates opened.
Inside, the camp was heavily secured. Survivors were assigned dormitories—each room housing at least six people. Food and supplies were distributed at fixed times, strictly controlled.
But not everyone liked it.
"This is bullshit!" someone shouted one day. "We're not prisoners!"
A few others joined in, voices rising—
BANG! BANG!
Gunshots fired into the air.
Silence fell instantly.
The message was clear.
This wasn't a democracy anymore.
It was survival.
A few days later, they were transferred to a safer military base—far away, in the Netherlands, where the virus hadn't spread as aggressively.
Life there was different.
Structured.
Harsh.
Leon and John, along with a few classmates, enlisted in the military.
Training was brutal.
Every single day—
20 kilometers of running.
200 push-ups.
200 squats.
200 sit-ups.
Rope climbing till their hands tore open.
Weapons training.
Combat drills.
Endurance tests.
There was no mercy.
No breaks.
Only progress—or collapse.
But Leon and John?
They adapted.
As martial arts prodigies, most of the combat techniques were already familiar to them.
"Man, these instructors think they're breaking us," John smirked one day, wiping sweat off his face. "They don't know we were built for this shit."
Leon didn't reply.
He just kept training.
Getting stronger.
Faster.
Deadlier.
Three years passed.
For the first time—
Leon was assigned a mission.
Location: California, United States
Objective: Investigate the resurgence of the virus.
As soon as he arrived, he was greeted by a sharply dressed man.
"Sir Leon," he said respectfully. "Anti-bioterrorism specialist. I am Simon, Chief Executive Officer of this sector. Welcome."
Leon gave a slight nod.
"So, what's the situation?" he asked bluntly.
Leon had changed.
At 6.5 feet tall, with a lean but muscular frame, black wolf-cut hair, piercing light blue eyes, and a sharp jawline—he looked like a weapon more than a man.
Simon adjusted his glasses.
"Civilians are showing symptoms again," he said. "Same plague as three years ago."
Leon's eyes narrowed.
"And the cause?"
"That's the problem," Simon replied. "We don't know who's behind it."
He paused, then added in a lower tone—
"But the mutations… they're different now."
Leon folded his arms. "Explain."
"We've identified 32 mutated DNA chains," Simon said. "This isn't the same virus anymore. It's evolved."
Silence.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Leon exhaled slowly.
"…Then we start from the source."
Simon nodded. "Valor City. That's where the signals are strongest. You'll be supported by intel and comms."
Leon was handed his gear—
A military-grade pistol.
Body armor.
Bluetooth earpiece.
Ammunition.
As he collected it, he discreetly stored extra rounds inside his ring.
Just as he was about to leave, Simon tossed him a key.
"You'll need transport."
As Leon drove toward Valor City, the environment changed.
Ruins.
Burned vehicles.
Blood-stained roads.
This wasn't just an outbreak—
It was a collapse.
Leon tightened his grip on the wheel.
"So this is what they turned the world into…"
He stepped out of the car.
"…Guess it's time to test my fire."
He hadn't had the chance to properly cultivate his fire abilities under military surveillance.
But now—
He was free.
He moved through the streets silently, blending into shadows, avoiding unnecessary noise.
After hours of movement, he reached a building.
His mission wasn't just investigation—
He had to rescue survivors too.
Leon entered carefully.
Then—
Grrrr…
Movement.
A horde.
Zombies.
Dozens of them.
Their hollow eyes locked onto him.
"Perfect," Leon muttered. "Let's see what you can handle."
He raised his hand.
Energy gathered.
Heat surged.
In a split second—
A spear of fire formed.
Blazing.
Violent.
"Burn."
He hurled it forward.
WHOOSH—BOOM!
The fire spear pierced straight through multiple skulls, burning through flesh like paper. Heads exploded, charred bone fragments scattering as flames consumed their insides.
"Screeeeech—!"
The zombies collapsed one by one.
Some twitched violently as fire ate through their brains, others dropped instantly, their skulls blown open—burning, melting.
The stench hit next.
Burnt flesh.
Rotting blood.
Boiled brain matter dripping from cracked skulls.
Leon didn't even flinch.
"Too easy."
He moved from building to building, clearing everything in his path.
Then—
His senses flared.
Danger.
WHOOSH!
An arrow sliced through the air where his head had been a second ago.
Leon stepped aside instantly.
"…Sniper?"
He looked toward the source.
"Someone's watching me…"
Without hesitation, he formed a fireball and hurled it toward the direction.
BOOM!
The wall exploded into debris.
Dust filled the air—
Another arrow shot through it.
Leon ducked low, the arrow grazing past him.
In one fluid motion, he spun—
And fired.
BANG!
"Aaah—!"
A scream.
The dust settled.
A woman.
Injured.
Trying to pull another arrow—
But too slow.
Leon vanished—
And appeared right in front of her.
His fist slammed into her stomach.
THUD.
Her body folded instantly, air knocked out of her lungs as she dropped to her knees.
Leon stared at her.
"She saw me using my powers…"
His grip tightened.
"…That's a problem."
The woman trembled, trying to breathe, eyes filled with fear.
Leon hesitated.
Just for a second.
"…She's innocent."
But then—
His eyes hardened.
"Innocence gets people killed."
He pulled out his knife.
One swift motion—
SLASH.
Her throat opened.
Blood sprayed out violently, warm and thick, splattering across his hand as she collapsed—lifeless.
Silence.
Leon looked down at her body.
No emotion.
"In the future… I need to be more careful."
Days of killing had changed him.
Hardened him.
He had seen too much—
Death.
Betrayal.
Greed.
"The world doesn't run on trust anymore…" he muttered. "Only power."
He looked at his own hands.
"…And I'm no different."
He searched her belongings, hoping to find clues.
Nothing useful.
Clicking his tongue, he moved on.
As he stepped into another street—
Grrrr… BARK!
Leon turned.
Zombie dogs.
One lunged at him.
Then more.
A whole pack.
Leon sighed.
"Seriously?" he muttered. "What is this—some kind of welcome party? Or am I the main course?"
He dodged the first attack and fired—
BANG!
One dropped.
"One down…"
Another leapt—
He twisted and shot it mid-air.
"Keep coming."
The pack circled him, growling, their rotting flesh hanging, jaws snapping wildly.
Leon smirked.
"Alright then… let's clean this mess."
Gunshots echoed.
Blood splattered.
Bones cracked.
One by one—
They fell.
Bodies twitching.
Heads blown apart.
"…Ten down."
Leon exhaled slowly.
His energy was dropping.
The sky darkened.
Night was coming.
"…Time to rest."
He stepped into a nearby building, his senses still sharp.
Because in this world—
Even a moment of weakness…
Could mean death.