"Hahaha, do you guys even realize the situation you're in? This manor has over seven hundred regular fighters and more than two hundred super soldiers. We're on a remote island deep in the Pacific, totally cut off from the world—no communication, no rescue. Even a helicopter can't make it to any country from here. Even if you escape, you'll face endless pursuit from the Zade Family. You're completely on your own!" Donald Zade said to Jack Young, "So why don't we sit down and talk this out? If we can solve things peacefully, why use violence?"
"We're stuck on this island, but you're stuck with us." Jonathan Black threw a lightning-fast left hook and right hook, each punch landing squarely on Donald's face. "The only way I talk to you is like this!" Bam—another straight punch, and blood snaked down Donald's nose.
Donald tried to say something, but Jack cut him off: "Listen, kid, I can make you wish you were dead. So, you either cooperate, or I make you cooperate. Your call."
Donald glanced at Jack, his eyes flickering with fear. He was genuinely intimidated by this Eastern guy. Whenever Jack squinted, that scheming, sinister aura made Donald feel like disaster was about to strike. He sighed, "Alright, looks like I don't have much of a choice."
But despite what he said, Donald had zero intention of playing nice. Unconsciously, he put on that slightly manic grin again: "Jonathan, your mother, Susan Soo, came to Tiberius Laboratory about thirty years ago..." In such a tense moment, his slow speech was almost comically out of place—he was clearly trying to spin a long-winded story to distract everyone so his men could figure out a way to save him.
But just then, a cold glint flashed in Jack's eyes. He suddenly slapped Donald in the gut. Instantly, a wave of pain exploded from the spot, spreading everywhere, digging deep into his organs—like venomous snakes crawling inside him. Using internal martial arts for this kind of thing? Top-notch results. "Ah!" The unexpected agony twisted Donald's face; sweat poured down his forehead. Jack grabbed his collar, stared him down, and barked, "Enough with the nonsense! Tell me—how did she die?"
"I..." Donald tried to stall: "If you really want to know..."
"Looks like you've got a death wish." Jack snorted, pressing his left hand to Donald's chest. Buzz—a ripple of invisible energy swept through his body. Pure terror crashed into Donald, while a whole new kind of pain tore through his mind like a hurricane. This was worse—deadlier—impossible to resist. It felt like some monster was sucking the life out of him, every bone screaming as it was drained.
He couldn't even scream anymore; his eyes bulged, mouth open in silent agony. The Dragon Elephant Extraction Method can't directly steal someone's life force, but it's not useless either. Even the cockroaches were scared out of their hidey-holes, but now, this new sensation shattered Donald's mental defenses.
"Tell me—who killed her? Give me a name!" Jack barked, his voice like thunder in Donald's ears.
In the endless whirlpool of pain, Donald screamed at the top of his lungs, "It was my father! My father killed her!"
Buzz—the ripple faded, and Donald collapsed to the floor, his clothes soaked with sweat. Jack glanced at Jonathan, whose eyes were hollow and filled with pain, bloodshot and lost. After a moment of silence, Jack spoke: "Your dad's a real bastard—cousin."
Jack's casual "cousin" made Jonathan shudder, snapping him back to reality. His gaze grew complicated, emotions swirling inside, and finally he just sighed, "I know..." Then he looked up and added, "But I'm probably older than you—cousin."
"Let's save the nitpicking for later," Jack said, hauling Donald up. "Move—this isn't a place to hang around. Talk as we walk." The moment Jack grabbed him, Donald shivered like a scared kid.
Jack marched Donald up front, Jonathan and Zhou Xiaohui trailing behind with weapons at the ready. The four of them kept moving, hoping to find some kind of getaway vehicle. Donald kept sneaking glances at Jack, fear and hatred mixing in his eyes. Jack noticed but couldn't be bothered—he had other questions. "You're the boss at Tiberius, right? Tell me, what's the deal with Zombie?" The moment Donald mentioned Tiberius, Phantom Mask's reaction was all because of this.
Donald visibly jolted at Jack's words. Zhou Xiaohui cut in, incredulous: "Zombie? Is that a codename, or do you mean... an actual zombie?" By the end, her voice was shaking.
"Cargo codename: Zombie. Discovered in Kashmir. Seller: Tiberius. Date of transaction: May 2, 2014." Jack's tone was flat, but his words were explosive: "Early May, Tiberius Laboratory bought Zombie from the SD Syndicate. At least, it looked like a zombie."
Even Jonathan's eyes twitched at Jack's words. Zombies are way too dangerous for the world. Donald was completely stunned: "How do you know... about our deal with SD? That's impossible! SD's transaction records are never leaked!"
"That's how the world works: you spy on me, I spy on you," Jack joked, mimicking the big boss's tone. "SD Syndicate isn't some untouchable Eden—they get busted too sometimes."
Donald stared, eyes unfocused. Compared to the Zombie business, the idea that SD's transaction records had leaked hit him even harder. If the torture had wrecked his body, this one simple sentence was about to break his mind.
How high does SD Syndicate rank in his mind to make him react like this?
Now's not the time to dwell on that. Jack pressed on, "Spill everything about Zombie!"
"We—we don't even know if it's a real zombie..." Donald looked at Jack, now genuinely terrified, ready to answer anything: "We bought the specimen and ran all kinds of tests, but we still couldn't confirm if it was a zombie. On one hand, we did isolate a virus, but on the other—and this is the weirdest part—the virus wasn't infectious!"
"Huh?" Jack frowned. A non-infectious zombie virus? Can you even call that a zombie virus? After all, a single zombie isn't much—heck, even a regular person could take one or two down if they got brave enough.
If Donald's telling the truth, it makes sense why the world hasn't been overrun by zombies. After all, before SD Syndicate caught it, that zombie couldn't have just sat around without biting anything.
Donald was really shaken by Jack's frown, thinking he hadn't explained enough and might get punished, so he spilled the beans: "I mean, the virus in the specimen's cells acts almost exactly like the fictional 'T-virus.' If you use the specimen's normal cells in experiments, the virus is super aggressive. But if you try it on other life forms—cell cultures, injections, even classic zombie bites—none of it creates new zombies! Rabbits, mice, humans, whatever—the virus survives for a bit, but only slightly longer than outside the body, and it doesn't react to the host's cells at all. It's like there's an invisible barrier in between!"
"You guys tested zombie virus on humans? Are you nuts?!" Jonathan, a mob boss but clearly not anti-human, roared, "One slip and you could wipe out the whole world!"
Zhou Xiaohui was scared stiff by all this, cold sweat dripping down. Movies alone freaked her out—if zombies were real, she'd probably lose it. She stammered, "So—not a single case of infection?"
Donald looked at Zhou Xiaohui, his eyes complicated: "Actually... you can't say... absolutely none..." (Phew, had to work overtime today, just finished writing—thanks for waiting, folks~)