"So these are the UN Human Rights Commission staff, huh…"
Xavier's thoughts were interrupted by a familiar chime—the system notification ringing inside his mind.
[Please continue working hard. As your rank increases, the number of privileges and the rarity of rewards will also increase.]
Instead of excitement, a deep frown creased his face. He felt as if this mysterious existence was toying with him, pulling his strings for amusement.
[Assessing information… Based on your current power output, you have successfully ranked within the category of Non‑Evolved Creatures. Please continue working hard, and reach the First Sequence as quickly as possible.]
[Current Rank – 9,639]
The annoyance in his expression faded, replaced by pure surprise.
Ninth thousand? That meant thousands of others were also receiving power.
If someone with Instant kill wasn't ranked first, how strong were the ones above him?
The thought unsettled him. His frown deepened as the twisted absurdity of the situation sank in.
Just what kind of hell has the world turned into…
Unconsciously, Xavier clenched his fist so tightly that his knuckles cracked. If something happens to her because of all this chaos… whoever's responsible—whatever you are—I'll find you.
He didn't finish the thought aloud, but the faint killing intent flickering in his eyes said more than any words could.
Letting out a long breath, he forced himself to calm down. Ignoring the faint smell of burning corpses and flowers mixing in the air, he headed toward the stairwell. He had to reach the lower floors quickly.
From the consistent hints dropped by the system, one thing was clear—it wanted humans to fight. Relentlessly, endlessly, until they evolved.
The idea of hiding and waiting for the situation to settle no longer existed.
If the only way to survive is to fight, then so be it.
Finding his sister, Lisa Crownhart, remained his first priority. But growing stronger… was now the second.
"Harvard is one of the safest campuses in the United States," he reminded himself quietly. "Lisa should be fine. She has to be."
Repeating those words brought him a sliver of strength.
Meanwhile, the UN team was still recovering from shock. They turned toward Xavier again, unease in their eyes.
"Hey, you!" a sharp voice shouted from behind. "Stop right there! You're not allowed to leave that cell, you psychopathic bastard!"
Morgan's cold blue eyes glared at him, as though scolding a disobedient animal. A prisoner like him dares to walk out freely? His tone suggested disbelief more than authority.
Jackie, the group leader, said nothing yet, but her gaze sharpened.
Among the others, one red‑haired girl remained silent. Dressed in a simple gray hoodie, she suddenly muttered under her breath, voice trembling with disbelief.
"Impossible… What is he doing here?"
Though she spoke softly, Jackie caught every word clearly.
"You know this man?" the older woman asked, turning to her sharply. "Risa… who is he?"
Risa's lips parted—but before she could respond, a blur leapt from one of the nearby prison cells.
A zombie.
It moved faster than any of them expected. Morgan, focused entirely on Xavier, was the last to react. The creature's claws raked across his cheek, leaving a deep crimson line that oozed blackened blood.
Everyone froze.
They all knew what that meant. A graze was enough to infect.
Aaron—the only other man in the group—stumbled backward immediately, horror twisting his features.
Before panic could spread further, Jackie barked, "Millie! Stop it before it kills him!"
Millie hesitated only a moment before raising her hand. "Freeze!"
Her voice rippled with mana. The zombie instantly stiffened, a shell of frost racing across its body until it froze mid‑lunge, crystallized in pale blue ice.
"Good. Aaron—end it," Jackie ordered calmly, voice edged with authority.
Aaron gulped. His fingers trembled as he formed a spell circle. "Fireball."
Whoosh!
A basketball‑sized sphere of flame shot from his palms, striking the frozen zombie square in the head. It exploded instantly, scattering ice shards and charred flesh across the hallway.
The group stared in silence, reminded again how fragile their lives had become.
Morgan tried breaking the tension with a forced laugh. "What are you all staring at me for? It's just a scratch… nothing much."
No one answered. All eyes turned to Jackie, waiting.
Before she could reply, Millie suddenly gasped, eyes widening as she pointed forward.
"Look!"
At the end of the corridor, a blood‑covered figure was cutting through the undead like a reaper in human skin.
Xavier.
His mana sword flared as he spun into a gale of death, slicing zombies apart with mechanical precision. Limbs and heads scattered in every direction. The already blood‑soaked walls now gleamed wet crimson beneath the flickering emergency lights.
[MUTATED ZOMBIE (LV 9) defeated.]
[+4 Agility, +4 Stamina obtained.]
The notifications overlapped one after another until they blurred together in his vision.
After the twentieth kill, his body burned with renewed vigor—stamina restored, mana overflowing.
Jackie felt a flicker of recognition amidst the horror. "He's clearing the way for us. Quickly—move. We need to follow his path out!"
Her command snapped the others to attention. They broke into a run behind her.
To them, it was a massacre. To him, it was routine.
While the UN group struggled to handle a single zombie, Xavier cut through hundreds as if swiping weeds from a field.
He noticed them briefly but paid them no mind. Talking now was pointless.
The sounds of battle echoed as he reached the far end of the corridor—and stopped.
A sound of chewing drifted through the still air.
At the exit sat a monstrous rat, nearly the size of a dog, gnawing on a corpse. Its crimson eyes flashed as it lifted its head and noticed him. Fur standing on end, it let out a shriek that vibrated through the hall.
A haunting, high‑pitched roar that promised one thing: Battle.