Fighting ordinary Infected had become such an ingrained habit over the past three months that the act now felt almost automatic.
They were so stupid and predictable that combat against them had evolved into something almost routine for me. Their movements followed the same brainless patterns every single time: shambling forward with arms outstretched, attempting to grab and bite with zero awareness or ability to adapt to changing circumstances.
It was almost like I could see the future during these encounters because their behavior was so completely consistent and devoid of variation. Every Infected telegraphed its intentions with obvious body language, making their attacks trivially easy to anticipate and counter.
