I had heard of a system before. I wasn't very familiar with it, but my brother told me about it. I usually only played shooter games, so we didn't have much in the way of systems, but my brother was more of a role-playing game fan, so he was more familiar with the subject. Zhi Yong had told me that you level up your characters and increased their stats or something along those lines.
But I didn't see any level. Just the pentagon with the five stats, and the ability. There was no level, no health bar, and no bar for evolution energy. Scratching my head, I studied the attributes, trying to figure out which does what.
As if on cue, the hologram flickered and switched screens, with each stat providing an explanation for what it does.
Strength: The higher it is, the more powerful your physical attacks.
Endurance: The higher it is, the more durable your physical body becomes, allowing you to withstand your enemy's physical attacks.
Agility: The measurement of your speed, upon which your maneuverability and evasive skills are based on.
Willpower: The higher it is, the more powerful your ability attacks become. Examples of ability based attacks are elemental manipulation, soul attacks, and other metaphysical or supernatural manifestations.
Spirit: The higher it is, the more resistant you are to an enemy's ability. Allows you to withstand soul attacks and mental assaults better.
Ability: Input points here to unlock an ability.
Well, that was quite the info dump. But it made sense. At least I understood what the stats do for me now. I glanced down at my guns. I was guessing the utilization of ranged evolver weapons would make far more use of Willpower than Strength. Conversely, if I was a close combat evolver, Strength would benefit me more.
But what was this about unlocking Ability? I hovered my finger over it and blanched when I saw that I needed a hundred Kill Count points to unlock an ability.
"Huh? Kill Count points?"
The screen changed again, and a new text window appeared. "You can increase your various attributes by putting Kill Count points into them."
"Hmm…" I decided to experiment. I glanced at the 18 Kill Count points I currently had, and then added one to Willpower. As I expected, it went up from 1 to 2.
"So all my stats start out at 1. I guess that's pretty average. So if I were to buff them…"
The question was…how should I spread out my points? I supposed I should place them all into Willpower and maybe Spirit, but Agility was useful, considering that I needed to evade the grotesque later. Then I recalled how I was being bogged down by the zombies in close combat earlier and nearly killed. If I hadn't jumped up here, I might have died, overwhelmed by their numbers.
And if I ran out of EE, I might need physical strength to fend the zombies off.
Their groans drew my attention back to them. I peered down at them scrabbling at the foot of the machine I was currently perched on. I frowned when I felt the device shift slightly below me. They weren't strong enough to topple it over, but they were slowly getting there. Combined with the ever increasing volume of the grotesque's footsteps as it tried to make its way here, I knew I didn't have much time left.
I had to make a choice.
"Well, I had 18 points and 6 different stats. I'll just divide them equally for now. Balanced is best."
I could think about specializing in one stat later, after I survived this hellhole and escaped. For now, each stat was vitally important to me for getting out of this predicament. With that in mind, I assigned 3 points to each stat, including Ability. I felt like I would regret not giving Ability any points later, so I decided to slowly accumulate until a hundred.
Furthermore, there were plenty of zombies down below. If I did this right, then I should theoretically be able to amass a healthy number of Kill Count points – maybe even enough to unlock an ability!
Rising to my feet, I felt as if my body was lighter than ever. My perception appeared to have increased, probably a result of either Willpower or Spirit. My aches and bruises were gone, no longer hurting as much as before. Thanks to Endurance, perhaps?
Turning around, I kicked a piping off the machine, shattering the metal in one blow.
"Heh."
My Strength really had increased. Hooking my foot under the falling piece of broken piping, I kicked it up and snatched it from midair. Drawing one of my guns with my left hand, I then turned toward the zombies. With a single motion, I leaped off and landed on their midst.
First, I stomped on a zombie before I hit the ground, my foot pulverizing its head and turning its brain to mush. While I landed next to the headless corpse, I lashed out with the broken pipe and crushed the skull of another zombie. Whirling around, I squeezed the trigger and fired when a targeting reticule turned red, burning a hole through the head of a third zombie.
My Kill Count went up from 0 to 3 in less than three seconds.
Spinning around, I carved a bloody swathe through the mob of undead, my pipe lashing out and bolts spewing from my gun. Zombie fell around me, their heads blasted open or pulped to a bloody mess. Dropping to a crouch to dodge a clawed slash, I then kicked the chest of the assaulting zombie, destroying its ribcage and liquefying its heart and lungs. Even so, it remained alive, but I simply stomped on its head before dropping low to shoot another zombie twice. One in the neck, my aim having gone wide, but the second found its mark and blew a hole in its forehead.
Then I lashed out with a pipe, smacking a zombie just as it was about to grab hold of me. As it staggered, I brought the blunt end of the pipe up and smashed through its jaw, actually impaling it through its chin and through the crown of its head.
Yanking the pipe free, and without shaking the blood and brain matter off its rusting length, I swung it to club a zombie back before I shot it pointblank in the face.
I couldn't believe I was fighting like this. My movements felt faster, freer and lighter than before. My attacks had more weight. There was a reason why I wasn't a close combat evolver like Lou Qian or Qi Ren. I simply didn't possess the same physical power as them. I was known more for my precision and knowledge.
Yet I was fighting like one of them right now, tearing my way through the ranks of zombies like a ferocious whirlwind.
The club-like pipe was the perfect weapon for me. I hadn't bothered with swords or sharp weapons because they could dull easily, their edges worn down by constant cutting. There was also the likely chance they would get stuck in the zombie's bodies, making them difficult to dislodge. That sort of delay could prove to be fatal. On the other hand, with a blunt weapon, I could club and bludgeon the zombies indefinitely, not having to worry about dulling its sharpness. I just needed sheer force to smash apart their heads and reduce their brains to jelly through blunt trauma alone. They were the perfect weapons against something like the undead.
Kill Count now stood at 36. In the blink of an eye, I had mowed down dozens of zombies, but more tried to grab at me. I fought diligently, taking one step at a time and moving toward one of the exits.
That was when I heard the grotesque.
The massive monstrosity had finally located me. Bursting from one of the corridors, it charged like a hideous bull, trampling unfortunate zombies along the way.
I reflexively jumped away, making use of my newly increased speed to evade its charge. Though incredibly fast, the grotesque was not very maneuverable and it was unable to alter its trajectory, instead colliding against one of the machineries with a loud thud. I fired into its misshapen back, but despite my EE having seemed to triple, along with the power of my shots, my gun had little effect on it.
I needed something a lot stronger…
The grotesque turned around. I shoved a few zombies out of my way, using the pipe to bludgeon their heads or crack open their skulls, while shooting pointblank into those out of melee reach. Kicking off the ground, I launched myself at the grotesque and hammered the shifting fleshy mass that was supposed to be its head. The pipe connected and the grotesque snarled, but it simply swatted me away without suffering much disorientation.
I flipped my body in the air, narrowly avoiding the blow, and landed on its bulky arm. Feeling the knitted flesh squirm beneath the soles of my shoes, I suppressed the revulsion within me and leaped off, landing on another wreckage. Spinning around, I fired a barrage into the grotesque, but it continued to shrug off the shots and came after me.
"Still not strong enough to kill that thing, huh?" I murmured to myself. Abandoning my attempts, I then hopped from wreckage to wreckage, keeping out of the grotesque's sight and nearing one of the corridors. Behind me, the grotesque bellowed in frustration, trying to keep with me and constantly colliding with many of the machines, but it was too inflexible to follow me.
I would have to avoid a frontal fight with the grotesque for now.
Swinging from one machine to another, I landed on the ground and skidded across the rough and messy surface. There were times I had to throw myself above cracked devices and severed cabling. Even with my agility being tripled, I realized that I wasn't a god yet.
"Still too little."
Rising to my feet, I saw that the nearest corridor was being crowded by zombies. They had noticed my presence and were shambling toward me, moaning and clawing at the air. Normally I would avoid them, but I noticed the Kill Count floating at the corner of my eye. 44 so far.
Using my wrist to push my glasses up my nose – my hands still holding a gun and a pipe – I decided to make use of the opportunity to…what was the term? Farm? Grind? Whatever. I couldn't remember the term my brother told me, but I knew this was a golden opportunity.
After all, the more zombies I killed, the stronger I became. Perhaps I might even become powerful enough to slay the grotesque. Eventually.
The roar of the grotesque behind woke me up, the noise accompanied by the shriek of metal crumpling when the hideous monstrosity hurled its bulk against the discarded machinery. This was no time to be sticking around. I needed a safe place to hide up and distribute my Kill Count points throughout my stats as well.
Taking a deep breath and trying not to gag on the foul stench that permeated the air because of the decaying zombies, I charged forward. We met at the mouth of the corridor, and I made use of the narrow space to my advantage, funneling the zombies into coming at me from one direction. Even as I ran, I was already firing with as much precision as I could, relying on my glasses to correct my aim. Corpses fell, cauterized holes sizzling in their foreheads, faces or cheeks.
Then I crunched into them, my pipe smashing the nose of the lead zombie and caving its face in. I kicked the crumpling corpse aside and lunged at the next. Already the numbers were thinning and I could see light at the end of the tunnel. I hastened my efforts, my pipe a blur and my gun fuming and glowing red-hot from the constant firing. Switching it off, I slapped it back into the holster and drew my other gun.
Behind me, the grotesque finally emerged from a tangle of machinery to grab at me, but I had already ventured deep into the corridor. It stopped at the entrance, unable to squeeze into the small, constricted passageway. Bellowing in frustration, it struck the walls around it, as if attempting to widen the exit with raw muscle.
I didn't wait to see if it would succeed. Pummeling the last remnants of the zombie horde, I broke into a sprint and fled deeper into the underground facility.