Chapter 10: Chapter 10
The entire floorboards suddenly shuddered beneath my invisible paws.
A heavy, mechanical groan echoed through the carriages as the massive engine violently coughed to life. The Ecliptic Express lurched forward with a deafening rumble, the wheels grinding against the rusty tracks before catching a steady, accelerating rhythm.
We were officially on the move, hauling ass toward the Umbrella Training Facility.
Which meant I had a very limited window to enjoy the scenery before shit hit the fan.
The rest of the train ride played out as an extreme exercise in tactical stealth, a metric fuckton of invisible drool, and the most agonizing test of biological self-control in human history.
With my newly acquired Novistador active camouflage, I wasn’t banished to the freezing roof anymore. I had slipped right through a cracked window pane to become the ultimate ghostly, invisible pervert.
I stalked Rebecca from a distance of about three inches.
This was honestly a terrible idea. The Cerberus form came with drastically enhanced canine olfactory senses, which was a massive design flaw when my brain was already being held hostage by the Apex Breeding Urge.
I could smell absolutely everything.
The metallic tang of the gun oil on her Beretta. The cheap, floral hotel shampoo in her short hair. The intoxicating, musky scent of pure, delicious fear-sweat radiating off her skin.
Every time she bent over to inspect a shiny puzzle item or check a dead conductor’s pockets, her S.T.A.R.S.-issue tactical pants stretched to their absolute physical limit. I just stood there completely invisible, my giant, purplish-grey flesh-missile throbbing aggressively against my underbelly.
Down boy. Do not mount the heavily armed medic.
It took every ounce of my willpower to keep from tackling her into the plush carpet. At one point, she knelt down to examine a document on a low table, giving me prime access. My mutated canine snout gravitated forward entirely on its own, hovering practically a millimeter away from her crotch.
The scent was driving my rotting brain completely insane.
I couldn’t help myself. I leaned in just a fraction of an inch too far and let my wet, invisible nose boop directly against the inseam of her pants.
"Eeep!"
Rebecca violently squeaked, leaping backward like she had just been electrocuted.
She spun around in a panicked circle, sweeping the empty corridor with her flashlight and aiming her Beretta at the shadows. Her chest heaved in rapid, terrified gasps. She reached down and rubbed her crotch with a highly confused, deeply disturbed expression on her face.
I held my non-existent breath, my invisible tail tucked tightly between my legs.
Play it cool. You are just a gust of wind. A very horny, highly targeted gust of wind.
After a solid minute of terrified sweeping, she finally lowered her gun, shaking her head. She muttered something under her breath about a weird draft and hurried into the next carriage.
I let out a shaky canine wheeze. That was entirely too close.
I did pass a couple of female corporate zombies locked in a sleeper cabin a few minutes later. For a brief, degenerate second, my system debuff actually debated the merits of some quick zombiussy action to take the edge off.
Then I took a closer look at them. Half-eaten faces. Missing fingers.
Yeah, absolutely not.
After experiencing the pristine, mint-condition luxury of Dr. Elise Hartmann, these bargain-bin shufflers looked about as appealing as a lukewarm bowl of grey porridge. I had standards now. High-tier heroines only.
Eventually, the rookie medic got herself separated from Billy. She headed down toward the lower levels to restore the power to the speeding train, leaving the disgraced marine alone in the second-floor bar car.
As I had throughly cleared out that section of the train from any undead, i had the luxury to let the cute medic roam around while I trailed behind Billy, who was due to have a stingy fight soon.
I positioned myself up on a high, shadowed luggage rack near the bar’s ceiling, letting my active camo keep me perfectly blended with the mahogany woodwork.
Then the ceiling absolutely exploded.
A massive, bone-shaking crash shattered the skylight, showering the entire bar in a rain of glass, metal, and plaster.
The Stinger had arrived.
I didn’t knew where the fuck this shit came crashing from. Was it waiting in the bushes beside train tracks and saw the gigantic metal behemoth moving at break neck speed, thought to jump into it? Like how did that make sense?
But who was I to question the boss encounters set by the developers.
The giant, T-virus-mutated scorpion was an absolute unit. It was easily twelve feet of thick, glistening brown chitin, its massive claws snapping with a heavy, metallic click-clack. Its segmented tail whipped through the air, dripping a thick amber neurotoxin that actively dissolved the fancy carpet.
Billy didn’t even hesitate. He drew his weapon, his face twisting into a hard, cynical scowl.
"Well, aren’t you an ugly bastard," he muttered, instantly opening fire.
Since I had already cleared out all the regular zombies and leech clusters in the immediate vicinity, Billy had the luxury of a one-on-one boss fight. But getting systematically disassembled by a giant mutant arthropod isn’t exactly a luxury vacation.
Without Rebecca there to distract the beast or heal his dumb ass, the Stinger focused entirely on the marine. Billy scrambled backward over the mahogany bar, firing precise shots into the soft, pale joints of the scorpion’s legs.
The creature roared with a wet, scraping hiss and swung its left claw with blinding speed.
The heavy chitinous club caught Billy square in the chest.
He launched backward, crashing into a stack of expensive wine shelves with a deafening splinter-crunch. He hit the floor hard, coughing up a bright splash of red blood.
I winced from my perch. That kind of blunt force trauma would have instantly liquefied my baseline zombie form, and even in this beefed-up Cerberus body, it would have left a massive dent.
But Billy Coen was a stubborn, military-grade cockroach.
He rolled out of the way just as the Stinger’s tail slammed into the floorboards where his head had been, leaving a smoking, acid-burned crater.
Panting heavily and clutching his visibly bruised ribs, Billy dragged himself up. He slid directly under the creature’s massive bulk and jammed his handgun straight into the soft, pulsing tissue beneath its armored jaw.
He emptied the entire magazine point-blank.
The Stinger let out a high-pitched, vibrating shriek. Its legs buckled one by one as its tiny brain got turned into a lead-filled slurry. The massive beast collapsed into a heavy, twitching heap, crushing several bar stools beneath its weight.
Billy slumped against the wall, his face pale and slick with sweat. He was breathing in shallow, ragged wheezes. He had definitely fractured a few ribs, maybe even suffered a minor lung puncture. But he didn’t linger to complain. Clutching his side, he hobbled out of the ruined bar car to go find his rookie partner.
The moment his heavy, limping footsteps faded down the corridor, I deactivated my camouflage and dropped from the luggage rack.
Hehe boi, free real estate...
The Stinger’s corpse was massive, and leaking a thick, foul-smelling greenish fluid everywhere.
I didn’t bother with any theatrical bullshit. I simply opened my triple-hinged canine jaw, exposed my rows of jagged teeth, and bit directly into the soft, ruptured flesh beneath the scorpion’s armored collar.
My biological absorption process was immediate and deeply visceral.
The tiny, wet red tendrils erupted from my gums and the roof of my mouth, violently anchoring themselves into the creature’s genetic matrix. I could feel the dense, chitinous armor and the concentrated chemical venom liquefying under my touch.
The scorpion melted into a thick, lukewarm slurry that aggressively vacuumed down my throat. The massive shell collapsed inward, folding like a deflating balloon as my body greedily recycled every single ounce of high-tier biomass.
Within thirty seconds, the flesh of the twelve-foot monster was completely gone, leaving only its exo-skeleton on the floorboards
[Biomass absorbed. Cellular integrity increased to 89%.]
[Unique biological entity absorbed: Centurion-class Stinger (Uncommon). Evolution Points earned: +500.]
[Evolution Shop updated. New content registered:]
[Form: Stinger Scorpion — 800 EP
Description: Created by Umbrella as part of their research into arachnid-based bio-weaponry. The Stinger has little means of attack other than ramming its prey, using its pincers, or stinging with its tail. It possesses a heavily armored exoskeleton that shields it from all harm, making it all but invulnerable unless shot directly in the head.]
[Trait: Chitinous Armor Plating — 300 EP
Description: Integrates a thin, enhanced keratin-based subdermal layer beneath the host’s skin. Functions as organic Kevlar, hardening upon impact to protect vital flesh and bones from small-caliber firearms and heavy blunt-force trauma.]
[Trait: Venomous Stinging Tail — 200 EP
Description: Sprout a highly articulated, segmented appendage tipped with a razor-sharp stinger. Capable of injecting a highly concentrated, acidic neurotoxin designed to instantly turn internal organs into hot, liquid soup.]
Five hundred points from one oversized lobster!
My current war chest was sitting at a very comfortable eight hundred and seven Evolution Points. But my excitement immediately took a nosedive when I looked a little closer at the system’s price tags.
Eight hundred points for the Stinger form? Are you fucking kidding me?
I let out a wet, irritated hiss, my canine lips curling back to expose my jagged teeth. The Cerberus form was only two hundred points, and they were both technically sitting in the exact same ’Uncommon’ tier. How the hell did this overgrown bug cost four times as much as my dog body?
Fucking inflation. Even in a goddamn zombie apocalypse, the economy is an absolute scam designed to bleed the working class dry.
I briefly considered buying the Stinger form anyway, but practicality quickly slapped the stupid out of my brain.
Sure, being an armored tank sounded cool on paper, but navigating tight, underground laboratory corridors as a twelve-foot arthropod would be a massive logistical nightmare. I’d absolutely get my fat, chitinous ass permanently wedged in the first doorway I tried to walk through.
Besides, the real evolutionary prizes were still waiting in the Umbrella facility below.
I needed to hoard my points for a humanoid form. Something that could actually use a toilet, manipulate a doorknob, and—most importantly—hold a woman without accidentally snipping her torso in half with a giant, crushing pincer. There’s no point in surviving the apocalypse if you accidentally bisect your future harem every time you try to cop a feel.
Keeping my hard-earned points safely in reserve, I shook my muscular canine frame to settle the fresh influx of energy.
The icy mountain wind was howling outside the shattered skylight, but I wasn’t about to go freeze my non-existent balls off on the roof again. The train was currently barreling toward its final destination, and my biological priorities were violently shifting back to my favorite rookie medic.
I reactivated my Novistador camouflage, watching my rotting paws shimmer and seamlessly vanish into thin air.
It was time to get back to work. Those tight S.T.A.R.S.-issue tactical pants weren’t going to sniff themselves. I needed to make sure Rebecca stayed in one piece, and the absolute best way to ensure her survival was by hovering exactly three invisible inches behind her perfectly shaped, highly distracted ass.
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A/n: dont forget to donatestones! also further Chapters will have sexual stuff with MC in cereberus form, just warning ya all.
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