The following morning, Frank was in the armory, staring at his reflection in a cracked mirror.
He hadn't really had a chance to notice during his training, but now he could fully appreciate the changes.
The chubby frame of a man who had spent too many nights drowning his grief in cheeseburgers was gone, replaced by a body hardened by discipline and sheer willpower; broad shoulders, defined muscles, the works.
His dull green eyes now seemed to have a distant light hidden in their core; not having the same vibrancy they once did, but a welcome improvement.
Frank ran a hand over his chest, feeling his muscles beneath his fingertips. He had always been strong, but that strength was buried, hidden. Now, it was on full display, a testament to the grueling hours he had spent preparing for this.
Even his face had changed. His hair was now washed, and he had shaved his goatee. Losing a lot of fat, his jawline even looked far more pronounced. Honestly, he barely recognized the man staring back at him.
"Admiring yourself again?" Elara's teasing voice broke through his thoughts.
She leaned against the doorway, her eyes looking over him a few too many times. "You clean up pretty well, Gunn. Almost didn't recognize you."
Frank smirked, though his cheeks flushed slightly. "Honestly, me either, I'm just making sure I'm not dreaming. This… wasn't exactly what I was expecting." Not missing an opportunity to strike back, he continued, "Also, do you make a habit of walking in on men while they're changing?"
Elara's smirk turned forced, her face flushing as well. "W-well, I just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed before we headed out..."
Frank nodded, his gaze drifting to the gear laid out before him.
In front of him were several pieces of equipment, including makeshift armor that was a patchwork of reinforced leather, steel plates scavenged from cars, and thick padding made from layered fabric hastily sewn together.
It wasn't pretty, but it was sturdy, and hopefully enough to keep him standing. It also included the best weapon he could find nearby; his sledgehammer.
It had been badly damaged by the spider's acid, so the head was reforged with scraps of steel to add weight and durability. Its handle had been reconstructed and wrapped in grip tape for better control.
[Item acquired: Simple Sledgehammer+2
Type: Weapon
Attack: 60
Durability: 100/100
Description: A refurbished, man-made tool with considerable striking power.]
Holding it in his hand brought him a bit of comfort.
This was the weapon he had used to kill the first giant spider, the one that had nearly cost him his life. It was a reminder that even in a dire situation, all hope was not lost.
"You sure that thing won't fall apart on you?" Max's voice echoed from across the room. The large man was adjusting his own armor, a combination of riot gear and welded metal plates. His muscles strained against the material, which didn't quite fit his size.
Frank hefted the sledgehammer with ease, the weight feeling natural in his hands. "It's stronger than it was before, and it was more than enough then. Besides, even if it does, I have a solid backup," he joked, throwing a couple of jabs in the air.
Elara rolled her eyes but didn't argue. She knew better than anyone how far Frank had come. Over the past month, she had watched him transform from a broken man who survived by a stroke of luck, into a force to be reckoned with. She definitely felt much safer with him on their team.
Leo walked in with his new armor on, and it didn't look much better than Frank's. Patches of leather from old car seats were stitched onto a canvas vest. His pauldrons were fashioned from the lids of metal cooking pots, and held in place with strips of cloth. Still, it didn't hinder his mobility much, which was the intended purpose.
The team set out at dawn, Elara and Max's footsteps echoing through the empty streets. Frank took point, his sledgehammer resting on his shoulder as Leo took to the rooftops, scanning the horizon for any sign of danger.
Elara moved attentively beside Frank. Behind them, Max followed, occasionally looking back to make sure they weren't followed.
The first few hours of their trip were uneventful. The team moved cautiously, sticking to back roads and avoiding areas that had been heavily populated before the "breach."
Frank's "Sixth Sense" was quiet, giving him some comfort. But he still stayed alert, keeping an eye out for any sign of movement. Without any monsters to speak of, they covered a lot of ground before they encountered their first real threat.
A horde of zombies, easily over a hundred strong, blocked their path. Their rotting bodies shuffled aimlessly but steadily, forever moving toward their next meal. Frank's mind raced as he lost count of their numbers.
Elara stepped back before giving out orders, "We'll find a way around-"
"No time," Frank replied. Before she could argue, he had already charged in.
Elara blinked, taken aback. "Frank, there's too many! We can't take them!"
Frank didn't respond. He was already on the attack with "Oathkeeper" in full effect.
The first zombie fell with a single blow, its skull caving in under the hammer's weight. The second followed soon after, its body thrown through the air like a rag doll.
Frank's movements were wild yet efficient, each strike long-reaching and devastating. He moved through them like a force of nature, his now enhanced agility allowing him to bob and weave through the horde with breathtaking ease.
The zombies swarmed him, their strikes occasionally clawing at his armor, but Frank didn't falter. His "Persisting Strength" kept him from tiring, and he didn't have time to waste here.
He swung his hammer in wide, sweeping arcs, each blow sending dozens of zombies flying. The sound of cracking bones and splattering blood filled the air as his companions could only watch in awe.
They had seen Frank fight before, but this was different. This was raw, unrelenting power. He wasn't just fighting, he was massacring.
When the last zombie fell, Frank was breathing heavily but unharmed, the ground around him littered with bodies. The smell of decay only dissipating slightly when the wind picked up.
Soon enough, a notification flashed into his vision, the System's voice ringing in his mind.
[XP Gained: 250
New title Earned!
Horde Breaker: Increases damage against groups of enemies by 100%.
Item(s) Dropped:
Zombie's Grasp Gloves (Accessory): Reduces stamina cost of melee attacks by 5%. Weapons wielded cannot be disarmed by enemies.]
Frank re-read the text in front of him. A title? Equipment? This was the first time the System had rewarded him with anything like this.
He couldn't help but feel appreciation as he read the description of the "Horde Breaker" title.
'For a sadistic piece of crap, you can be nice sometimes,' he thought to himself, a smirk appearing at the corner of his mouth.
His gaze shifted to the gloves materializing in his hands. They were rough and worn, but they didn't seem weak, they actually felt quite sturdy.
"First time I've gotten something like this," he said aloud, holding them up for the others to see. "You guys ever see something like this before?"
Elara raised an eyebrow. "Can't say we have. We haven't even heard of something like this before. They do anything useful?"
Frank read the description again, this time out loud "Increases grip strength and reduces stamina cost for melee attacks."
He slipped them on, flexing his fingers to test the fit. The gloves fit his hands as if they were made for him, like a second layer of skin. He clenched his fists, feeling the subtle surge of power in his grip. "Oh yeah, these should come in handy."
Max chuckled, crossing his arms. "Lucky break. Don't get ahead of yourself though. Equipment doesn't make the man."
"You're acting like I'm going to be reckless just because I got new clothes," Frank complained.
'I'm worried you're going to be reckless because you're ALREADY being reckless.' Max worried inwardly.
Still, the team pressed on, their pace quickening as Frank grew impatient.
There were encounters with more monsters as the day wore on. Mutated rats the size of dogs and a pack of large feral cats with glowing eyes blocked their path, but Frank once again smashed them to a pulp before the others could even move.
They even ran across a giant dog that didn't seem to be hostile, instead opting to run off when it saw them.
'It's good to see not everything out here is trying to kill us.' Frank thought, slightly relieved as he looked at his gains.
[Mutated Rats Defeated: 100 XP Gained
Feral Cats Defeated: 100 XP Gained]
Not enough XP to level up, but progress nonetheless.
"He's like a machine," Leo commented with awe.
Elara could only nod, "That kind of focus… it's terrifying."
As the sun set, the team reached the outskirts of Westgate. The buildings were crumbling, their windows shattered and walls scorched. The group was about to press on when Frank's "Sixth Sense" itched, letting him know danger was nearby.
Frank's eyes narrowed as he scanned the horizon. "Get ready. Something's coming."
The team tensed, their weapons at the ready. Tension kept building until Leo's voice crackled over the comms. "Guys, we've got movement ahead. Big movement. You're not gonna like this."
The ground trembled as the first spider emerged from the shadows, its glowing eyes fixed on Frank. Four more followed, each the size of a car, their legs clicking against the pavement as they advanced.
Frank tightened his grip on his sledgehammer, a slow, sadistic smile spreading across his face.
'I've been waiting for this you bastards. It's time for a rematch.'