The vehicle reeked of blood.
Eric examined her wound; the cut was shallow, sparing any vital organs. She removed her track jacket with a sharp exhale, then tore off the sports vest beneath.
Rip!
She rent the pure cotton vest into strips and wrapped her abdomen twice to staunch the bleeding. While tying the knot, she glanced back. "How's your injury?"
The player in the red dress beckoned the baseball-capped player to retrieve the owner's fruit knife, which she used to slice off a large swathe of her skirt to bandage her wound. Weakly, she said, "Thank you for saving me. I'm managing."
The baseball-capped player wiped her tears with trembling hands, releasing pent-up frustration. "How can someone be like that, stabbing people without a word? They must be mentally unhinged!"
Eric felt a pang of regret. "Perhaps it's because we stole his car; his behavior became extreme once he woke." She had been negligent. While on missions, she always guarded against temporary allies but had no such caution toward NPCs.
Daniel had briefly mentioned that NPCs must not overhear mission details, lest unforeseeable complications arise. Eric heeded this; the few shouts in the restaurant to gather new players had been made under the condition that she would leave, not fearing interference from NPCs there.
Perhaps it was her first carjacking—though resolute when deciding, deep down she felt remorse toward the owner.
Facing this NPC, whose car she and Aaron had jointly seized, she had let down her guard, even allowing a complete stranger to sleep behind her, thereby inviting turmoil.
If the red-dressed player had not sat in the back, perhaps that first knife thrust upon awakening would have been directed at her or at Aaron driving.
This incident carved a profound lesson into Eric.
"Sorry," she said to the red-dressed player.
The other was surprised. "Why apologize?" she could not yet grasp Eric's meaning.
Eric remained silent, resolving not to claim her share of healing supplies upon exiting the mission.
Aaron cursed, "This NPC's definitely unstable! We should check his car for clues when we get the chance!"
Ahead, traffic police directed vehicles at an intersection, and the flow finally improved.
Beyond the commercial district, Aaron parked the car in a secluded spot.
They found nothing inside the vehicle, but opening the trunk, Eric spotted a massive suitcase. Her nose twitched, detecting the scent of disinfectant that masked a familiar metallic tang of blood.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Aaron said.
Eric felt the same. She strained to lift the suitcase, her current strength barely sufficient. With Aaron's help, they hauled it out. Placed heavily on the ground, the case bore a combination lock.
"Just pry it off," Eric said, wielding the owner's sharp fruit knife with brute force and dexterity, she severed the anti-theft device. Unzipping it unleashed an even stronger disinfectant odor laced faintly with blood. Inside were tightly packed black bags. Eric froze, hesitating before unsealing one. The sight was chilling: slender, pale fingers adorned with manicured nails.
Everything about the car owner's behavior now made sinister sense. He had feared his gruesome crimes of dismemberment had been uncovered and intended to silence anyone who knew.
This was the car Eric had chosen, yet she had unwittingly seized a ticking time bomb! What terrible luck!
The red-dressed player clutched her abdomen, voice feeble. "I think we should call the police."
"This is a mission—these people are NPCs. We have no time to waste," Eric said, trying to adapt to the scenario, forcing herself to abandon real-world logic.
"If we call the police, we lose this car and have no time to find another."
Aaron nodded in agreement. "I don't support calling the cops. We're here to complete a mission, not solve crimes."
The two came to a resolute decision. To prevent the car owner from exacting revenge and inviting needless peril, Eric resolved to end his life. Aaron's hand trembled slightly. "I can't do that."
The baseball-capped player returned, gagging, her voice quivering at the words, "He may not even be the killer. Perhaps, perhaps he was merely transporting the bodies. We cannot so rashly ascribe guilt; such matters belong to the police and the judges—"
"I will do it." Regardless of whether this man was the murderer or not, his murderous intent upon awakening made it impossible to spare him. One grave mistake was enough; risk must not be allowed to fester twice.
Without hesitation, she plunged the fruit knife into the man's heart.
The baseball-capped player gasped in horror, her eyes filled with terror.
The car owner's eyes fluttered open in agonizing pain, fixed with hatred and murderous intent upon Eric before all expression froze—he was dead.
"Bind him to the suitcase and cast them both into the river," Eric instructed.
"I'll do it! I saw some rope in the trunk!" Aaron replied promptly.
Plop.
Two lifeless bodies sank beneath the waters of this secluded, overgrown riverbank. The car roared to life once more.
"Look, the toxic fog is rising so swiftly," the red-dressed player's voice pierced the silence within the car. "It's already crawling up the skyscraper!"
Eric saw it too—a towering edifice over twenty meters tall in the restaurant's direction, with the toxic mist climbing halfway up its facade. This mission forbade ascending to heights; the upper levels were a dead end.
"The fog is still quite far from us," the baseball-capped player murmured. "Shall we seek provisions? I'm hungry."
"Yes, we must stockpile some food," Eric agreed.
They arrived at a supermarket already in chaos, with locals frantically grabbing supplies. Aaron and the red-dressed player stayed behind to guard the car, while Aaron added, "I'll look for a chance to refuel. You two handle the food shopping."
Eric, well-versed in procurement, led the baseball-capped player straight to the beverage section, first loading up on sports drinks and bottled water, then heading to the snack aisle for bulk packs of French bread, Swiss rolls, and chocolate energy bars.
The entire sweep took less than ten minutes. Laden with bags, they elbowed their way through the crowd and bolted without paying.
Stepping out of the supermarket, Eric's heart sank. She glanced into the distance—the toxic fog seemed far clearer, as though it had drawn significantly closer.
The streets had descended into greater disorder, with vehicles fleeing and occasional collisions accompanied by incessant honking.
"The car's gone!" The baseball-capped player, now too frantic to fear Eric, urgently asked what they should do.
"We'll move on foot," Eric said. She carried the heaviest load of water without slowing her pace, scanning for their vehicle while also keeping an eye out for bicycles.
"Ouch!" The baseball-capped player was knocked over by a fleeing NPC, her bag dropping to the ground and quickly trampled to ruins by the crowd. Hearing the commotion, Eric turned back, weaving through the throng to pull her up.
Tears streamed down the player's face. "The supplies are all ruined."
"Pick them up, quickly!" Eric didn't spare her a glance, her focus still behind them.
No comfort, no encouragement. The player sniffled and began gathering the remnants when suddenly someone yanked her arm.
"Run!" Eric dragged her into a sprint.
The streets erupted with panicked screams as people accelerated their pace.
Engines roared, motorcycles weaved through traffic, bicycle pedals spun madly, and NPCs without transportation ran with all their might!
The baseball-capped player glanced back, her pupils dilating with terror—what had been a faint trace of the toxic fog before they entered the supermarket now loomed at the street corner!
"How is it so fast!" She struggled to process the sudden turn, but Eric tightened her grip. "Don't look! Keep moving!"
A car nearby was just starting up, its occupants loading supplies before fleeing. Eric gestured to the player. "Get on that car! The black Jeep!"
"How? Will they let us?"
"Climb onto the roof!"
"I—I can't!"
"Jump and grab the tires! Three, two, one, jump!"
As Eric reached the Jeep, it accelerated. She leapt forward, caught the rear tire, and her lower body swung out from the momentum.
The sensation of losing control, swept along helplessly, reminded her of a previous mission on a cruise ship where she'd clung to a fleeing yacht to escape a shark attack.
"Wait! Wait for me!"
The new player's desperate cries echoed behind, but Eric had no time to spare.
The Jeep driver was aggressive, navigating the congested road with reckless abandon, forcing other vehicles aside amid a chorus of curses.
Eric was jolted dizzy, struggling to stabilize herself while trying to climb up.
"Bang!" "Bang! Bang! Bang!" "Beep! Beep! Beep!"
Collisions and frantic honking sounded behind her. Instinctively, Eric tightened her grip and, with a final effort, hauled herself onto the Jeep's roof.
Thud!
The Jeep was rear-ended, lurching violently. Eric lay panting on the roof, grateful she'd made it—otherwise, she'd have been crushed!
Catching her breath, she rose to her knees and peered ahead. The dense fog was spreading at an alarming rate, already engulfing the supermarket they'd just left.
Amid the cacophony of horns and engines, she thought she could hear anguished wails from within the store. Scanning her surroundings, she saw no sign of the baseball-capped player and realized her fate was likely grim.
This mission was merciless to newcomers.
No, every mission was merciless to new players. Surviving the first one depended on personal grit and sheer luck. She once considered herself unlucky, starting in a hotel fire on the ninth floor. In hindsight, that mission wasn't so brutal; even after leaping and suffering severe injuries, clearing it earned points to buy healing packs. But here, newcomers had no such safety net—falling to the toxic fog meant certain death.
"Eric! Eric!!" A voice called out.
Eric turned to see the baseball-capped player waving frantically from a car.
It was their vehicle—Aaron had returned just in time!
Relief washed over her, and a smile involuntarily crept onto her lips.