Chapter: 34 The dance of death.

I was heading towards Rikas apartment for now but I can change depending on the situation, my mind still replaying the earlier carnage. Zombies at this level? Please. They're nothing more than walking slimes in some D-tier game. Just fodder.

And then, like clockwork, that damned voice chimed in.

"You know, if you're bored, why not join the OG group? They're a problem magnet. Guaranteed adventure…"

My eyes narrowed, glaring into the air, as if I could actually burn a hole into the system's interface. "One of these days," I muttered under my breath, "I swear, if you ever materialize as a real woman, I'm gonna slap the life outta you."

"Awww, such sweet nothings," the system's voice droned, laced with sarcasm.

Before I could snap back, a notification appeared.

[ Quest: Save the OG Group. They're stuck on the bridge.

Reward: DNA Absorption and Tweaking Skill.]

I cursed every foul word imaginable at the system, not holding back. "I'm gonna kill you someday," I growled, knowing fully well it was impossible.

But alright, system. You want a show? I'll give you a damn show.

I stretched my limbs, feeling the slight crack in my joints. Then, he grinned—a predator's smile. Time for the fun to begin.

Reaching into my inventory, I pulled out the black box. I clipped it to my hips, then grabbed my rocket launcher, slinging it over my back. My prized blades gleamed in the dim light, though they could use a cleaning after the last massacre. I wiped them down with a wet towel, giving them a quick polish. Maintenance could wait.

And for the final touch—music. I scrolled through the tracks, landing on one of my favorites. Michael Jackson. Perfect. The bass kicked in, loud and booming, filling the area around me with an eerie rhythm.

I glanced at the chaos surrounding the bridge. Crashed cars littered the road, smoke rising from the distant buildings. The sun was barely hanging on the horizon, casting long, dark shadows across the wreckage. I stood tall on top of a nearby SUV, the music blasting in my ears as I stretched my arms, feeling the cool air against my skin.

Six feet two inches of battle-forged muscle, forged in a dimension that didn't let time stand still. My body wasn't some pumped-up steroid freak; it was ancient warrior perfection. And covered in the blood of the dead, I probably looked like a ghost. Only my white-blue eyes and the flash of my teeth stood out in the twilight.

No more time to waste. I jumped down from the SUV, the music pounding, and with a flick of my wrist, hit play on my speaker.

The song roared through the streets, and my body began moving on its own, the rhythm guiding me into the fray.

The OG group? Totally strangers. Didn't matter. All I knew was I had a job to do.

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The groans of the undead had grown deafening, drowning out the world around them. The OG group stood on the brink of despair, backs pressed together in a futile attempt to keep the horde at bay. Rei's spear trembled in her hands, Hirano's finger hovered nervously on the trigger of his makeshift nail gun, and Saya's mind raced with calculations that wouldn't save them this time. Saeko, ever the warrior, remained calm, her grip steady on the hilt of her katana, though even she knew their odds were grim.

Suddenly, through the din of the approaching death, a strange sound pierced the air—an upbeat rhythm, bass heavy.

Rei blinked. "What... is that?"

The music grew louder, filling the streets with an unmistakable groove. The eerie silence of the city, only broken by the occasional groan of zombies, was now invaded by Michael Jackson's unmistakable beat. The zombies halted, their moans temporarily silenced by this foreign sound.

"Is that... Michael Jackson?" Saya muttered, her eyes wide as she strained to recognize the song.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A rhythmic sound followed the music, almost in sync with the beat, echoing off the pavement.

"What the hell is happening?" Hirano whispered, panic threading his voice. He shot a glance at the others, but they were just as stunned.

Rei, shaking off her initial shock, pointed toward the source of the sound. "Look!" she shouted, the urgency back in her voice. "On top of that fire truck!"

They scrambled up the nearby fire truck, the last desperate act of curiosity. As they reached the top, their breath caught in their throats.

Walking in perfect sync with the music, a lone figure emerged from the smoke and ruin, stepping casually on top of a crushed SUV. His entire body was cloaked in black, the dried blood blending into the night, making him look like a ghost born from the shadows. But what caught their eyes most were his glowing white-blue irises, and the gleam of his teeth, visible through the dried crimson mask.

"Wha…who is that?" Saya stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.

The man, whoever he was, moved with the ease and precision of a dancer. His body swayed to the beat, arms stretching out, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for some kind of performance.

Tap. Tap.

The zombies, momentarily distracted by the music, began lumbering toward him, drawn by the sound.

Without missing a step, he reached for something at his hip. The group watched, eyes glued, as he unsheathed a gleaming blade—a sword that caught the dying light of the sun, casting a sharp glint across the street.

Saeko's eyes narrowed. "A swordsman?"

What followed was nothing short of breathtaking.

In a flash, the man leaped from the top of the SUV, his blade cutting through the air with a sharp whoosh. The first zombie's head flew off its shoulders, the decaying body crumpling to the ground without a sound.

Shing!

Another swift movement, and three more fell, each one sliced cleanly through the neck in a single fluid motion. The blade moved with him as though it was an extension of his body, slicing and dicing with impossible precision.

The sound of his sword cutting through the air was like a symphony of destruction. Each swipe, each twirl, every movement of his body was deliberate, controlled, and terrifyingly efficient.

Shink! Slash!

With every step he took, a zombie fell, their groans replaced by the sharp sounds of metal meeting flesh. His strikes weren't wild or desperate like the ones they had seen before. No, his movements were precise—perfectly executed. It was beautiful, in the most chilling, bone-rattling way possible.

Rei's knuckles turned white as she gripped her weapon tighter, mesmerized. "Who... who is he?" she asked, her voice quivering.

"He's not human," Hirano muttered, unable to tear his eyes away.

The figure paused, standing amidst a pile of headless corpses, not even bothering to look back at the carnage he left behind. He ran a hand through his blood-soaked hair, almost casually, and tilted his head as though enjoying the music playing from somewhere behind him. His predatory smile flashed through the crimson stains on his face.

Saeko couldn't help but watch, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous. "That's not just a man…" she whispered, the warrior within her stirred. "That's... a predator."

As the final notes of the song faded, the man turned his head slightly, locking eyes with the group atop the truck. His grin widened.

The dance of death wasn't over yet.

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A/N : How do you like the fight sequence do tell me. Okay 👍