A string of numbers appeared before his eyes.
"Leonard Churchill"
Strength: 0.71
Physique: 0.58
Agility: 0.62
Mental Power: 4.73
Description: Weak;
"Data panel, huh... well, this is really straightforward."
Since Leonard could accept the fact that he had transmigrated, he didn't find the panel particularly strange.
On the contrary, upon seeing these data, he immediately analyzed his physical condition.
The abnormally high "4.73" for his Mental Power was likely related to his transmigration, or perhaps an inherent attribute.
But the other values were desperately low.
He estimated that the values for a healthy body should be around 1, but his were merely half or slightly above, he was enfeeble as if he were a patient.
What was more horrifying was that as he observed, the numbers were continually declining?!
"You've come into contact with Curse Pollution, physique -0.002"
"You've come into contact with Curse Pollution, physique -0.001"
"Mental Erosion Exemption"
"..."
"So, being in proximity causes continuous pollution? No wonder I'm so weak..."
Leonard grumbled in his mind, instantly realizing that mental pollution was like nuclear radiation, continuously causing damage upon contact.
Certainly, he had to keep some distance from the thing on the bed.
After checking, he found that although the clothes weren't his, the body was really familiar.
He had transmigrated, taking over the body of the original owner, with no memory of it.
He took another look at the woman under him; a monster was a monster, but he couldn't deny, she was pretty attractive.
"Haha..."
Leonard mocked himself, carefully avoiding the naked corpse on the bed, afraid of accidentally waking her up.
Being naked was not a good choice, so he picked up the scattered clothes underneath the bed and put them on one by one.
A dirty tactical suit, hard steel boots, anti-stab tactical vest, and a rudimentary gas mask, it looked like some sort of field gear. What surprised him was that on the belt covered by the clothes, there were two large-caliber revolvers and some ammunition.
He figured, in a world with monsters, it wasn't strange to carry guns.
Leonard gripped the gun, his finger slightly moved on the trigger, he checked the bullets and thought, "The firearms technology in this world isn't too shabby."
The revolver was clearly handmade; there were signs of manual polishing on the parts.
But in terms of its structure or the steel used, this revolver could be considered quite decent.
With such a large caliber, one bullet could probably blow a person's head into a pulp.
The bullet's head also had a unique silver pattern, which was very likely not merely a decoration, but served some special purpose.
Clearly, this gun was not only meant for humans but also likely for killing monsters.
"What kind of world is this, really?"
Leonard's curiosity grew stronger.
Having got the pistol, he was tempted to turn around and fire a shot into the bed to test it out.
But on second thought, he dismissed the idea.
If firearms could easily kill this "B level catastrophe" monster, the original owner probably wouldn't have ended up like this last night.
Although he didn't know why the monster hadn't woken up yet, it was definitely not dead.
At least it didn't match the definition of "dead" as he understood it.
At this moment, the top priority was to leave this room.
...
After putting on his gear, Leonard walked to the room's exit.
It was a complexly structured iron door, viewable from the inside.
The iron door was filled with rust spots and looked very old, the craftsmanship was also quite dated. There were some slight depressions on the door as if someone had tried to forcibly destroy it but failed.
Leonard knocked on the door with his ear pressed against it, the sound was dull, thick as expected.
He didn't plan to force it, instead he carefully observed the structure of the iron door.
Luckily, there was a vent-like hole on the door for delivering food, he pulled a dagger from his sheath, planning to see if he could pick the lock.
Surprisingly, while he was knocking around, he suddenly heard a series of "katcha katcha" metallic friction sounds from inside the door.
The lock of the iron door had actually opened by itself.
A coincidence?
Or had he triggered some mechanism?
Leonard looked back, the corpse behind him had not moved.
Now that the door was open, he had to confront whatever was outside, no matter the circumstances.
After mulling over the possible scenarios, Leonard Churchill masked up with a gas mask and pushed the door open.
...
Upon opening the door, he was met with a view of a typical post-apocalyptic bunker style enclosed corridor.
A gas lamp?
That relic must be over two or three hundred years old.
Leonard Churchill noticed the alternately bright and dim wall lamps in the corridor immediately and deduced the age of the building accordingly.
What exactly is this place?
A strong desire for knowledge cropped up in his mind. Then, another line of text appeared before his eyes.
"You have gained the enlightenment: Alternate Dimension "Abnormal Creature Shelter 407."
"Disaster Level assessed: B"
"Space Exploration Progress: 47.1%"
"Space Mortality Rate: 69.4%"
"Keywords: Survival"
"Mission: This is a mysterious research facility imprisoning mutated creatures. Survive here for three days."
"Clearance reward: Randomly produced Curse Energy Materials or Finished cards in space; the higher the rating of exploration, the generous the final settlement."
"..."
Upon reading this, Leonard Churchill more or less understood.
Was this some sort of special game-like space, or a duplication of a game?
However, he didn't know enough about this world to fully comprehend what "Alternate Dimension" meant.
But this almost 70% mortality rate... is quite alarming.
The danger in this bunker is probably not just limited to the body lying in the room behind him, there could be others.
Perhaps he is not the only human here.
There could be more people.
Before he could even step out of the door, Leonard Churchill's hand was already resting on the revolver strapped to his waist.
He cautiously observed every direction.
This sealed corridor had no windows, seemingly an underground construction.
Aside from his own room, every dozen meters or so there was an equally sized iron door, he estimated at least twenty or thirty rooms existed within his line of sight.
"Could each of these rooms be holding a beast?"
Just as the thought crossed his mind, Leonard Churchill suddenly heard a "creak" as the door to the room next door was pushed open from the inside.
Something was coming out!
Leonard Churchill instantly went into high alert, swiftly reaching for his revolver, pointing it at the figure emerging from the door.
However, it would seem the individual in the next room was equally aware of his presence in the hallway.
And their reaction was even quicker!
In the instant the two met, both had their weapons aimed at the other.
After recognizing that the other was a human, Leonard Churchill, who was clearly a second slower in drawing his weapon, did not pull the trigger.
Because the other party hadn't made a move either.
More importantly, Leonard Churchill looked up to find the barrel of a cannon aimed at him from the other party's right arm, he raised his eyebrows slightly behind his goggles.
What the hell is this thing?
A mechanical arm?
Or should it be called... an Individual Steam-Powered High-Pressure Jet Cannon?
Leonard Churchill was unsure how to accurately describe the other party's equipment.
It was a steam punk styled mechanical equipment, a metal barrel about 30mm in diameter was attached to the arm with finely made brass valves and a pressure gauge device as well as a metal-arm guard . Three high-pressure gas pipes were connected to a small steam boiler on the wearer's back. There were also complex mechanical structures on the chest and knee joints, somewhat resembling a complete single-soldier mechanical exoskeleton.
The boiler was sputtering with white smoke, obviously a weapon powered by steam.
Yet, high-tech mechanical equipment aside.
What caught Leonard Churchill's attention was a faint shield light barrier shimmering around the figure?
The mash-up of vintage steam punk technology and a magical light shield was an eerie cognitive assault.
"Magic punk?"
Leonard Churchill thought that with a gun, he'd have a fifty-fifty chance even if a fight broke out.
But this guy in front of him knows magic!
Seeing the magical light shield, he immediately realized that this world's technology tree and power system were not quite the norm.
Oh,
it hadn't been normal since he saw the naked body.
He was ridiculously under-equipped.
Starting a fight obviously wasn't a wise choice.
Leonard Churchill felt that his circumstances might be a little grim.