Chapter 64 - 65: Emergency Emotional Support Tits

Chapter 64: Chapter 65: Emergency Emotional Support Tits

I stood over the twitching, bubbling mountain of green mush in the center of the smoking acid puddle.

Stepping forward, I planted my scaly palms directly into the goop and willed my red tendrils to drink up.

[Absorption Failed. Target is not a corpse.]

Figures.

Even after taking four consecutive acid canisters to the dome and melting into a puddle of sewer bisque, the stubborn bastard was technically still clinging to life. There was no way in hell I was letting Marcus cook in his own juices until he triggered his gargantuan second phase.

"Hurry up, Ghosty!" Rebecca shouted over the blaring klaxons, nervously checking the countdown on the wall console. "I really don’t feel like dying while drowning in toxic sewer runoff!"

I needed an execution tool, and I needed it five seconds ago.

Fuck it. Time to test-drive the new toys.

[Purchase <Calcified Bone Spike> — 800 EP?]

Yes, please!

[Equip <Calcified Bone Spike>? (Available Mutation Slots: 1/2)]

Confirm.

A sharp, grinding crack echoed from my right forearm as thick, pale osteo-plates violently erupted through the green scales of my wrist, rapidly fusing into a jagged, three-foot calcified blade that gleamed under the red emergency strobe.

Rebecca stared at my arm, her jaw dropping in sheer disbelief. "Hey! Isn’t that the exact same shit that big gray monster had?! What are you even doing with that?! Just eat it already!"

I glanced back over my shoulder, parting my serrated reptilian jaws to flash her a massive, toothy grin

Cool night air washed over my fur as I lay in the damp mountain grass, my heavy Cerberus head resting right on Rebecca’s exposed stomach. Her midriff rose and fell in rapid, shallow heaves as she panted for air, completely exhausted from our desperate sprint through the collapsing tunnels.

Behind us, perched high on the cliffside, the Umbrella Management Training Facility was putting on a breathtaking fireworks show. Orange flames billowed into the dark sky, followed by a low, rumbling explosion that rattled the Arklay mountains.

"Did you... haah... did you really have to make sushi out of that damn thing?!" Rebecca wheezed, her voice cracking as she stared up at the stars. "Do you even understand... the meaning of urgency... for God’s sake?!"

I raised my head slightly and dragged my broad, warm canine tongue straight up her midriff, giving her soft skin a wet, affectionate slurpee.

SLURP.

The sheer gall of this girl. Complaining about me taking an extra twenty seconds to eat dinner after the literal psycho yandere hostage negotiation she had pulled on my crotch earlier? She should be getting down on her knees and thanking me that we skipped the entire multi-stage Phase 2 raid boss fight!

"Ugh, stop!" Rebecca giggled involuntarily, swatting feebly at my snout as her bare belly twitched. "If we were just a minute late... haah... ugh, stop licking my tummy, it’s ticklish!"

I let out a low, satisfied canine chuff, resting my armored chin back onto her stomach and enjoying the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing.

To be fair to her panic, the Queen Leech had turned out to be an absolute nightmare of a cockroach. That wretched bitch just refused to die no matter how many times I jabbed my new three-foot bone spike through its pulsing core. It was almost like the creature had gotten stuck in some glitchy, invulnerable mid-transformation loop, stubbornly hanging onto life while the facility alarms screamed in our ears.

Getting thoroughly pissed off, I might have temporarily forgotten about the ticking self-destruct timer and gone completely feral with my claws, shredding the blob into atomized mush until the System finally gave me the green light to slurp it down.

Because we had to turn around and sprint out of the subterranean sewers like Olympic track stars before the blast sealed the exit tunnels, I hadn’t even found a single quiet second to review the mountain of system notifications currently sitting in my inbox.

Looking out over the dark valley, I realized another thing.

In the original Resident Evil 0 timeline, Billy Coen and Rebecca emerge from the facility right as the glorious morning sun rises over the horizon, signifying the end of the nightmare. But looking up at the sky right now, it was still pitch black outside, lit only by the stars and the roaring inferno behind us.

It was maybe 4 or 5 in the morning. We really had speed ran through the game.

The universe was really trying to mess with my head I felt. Nerdy-ass William Birkin had actually decided to trigger the master purge sequence hours ahead of schedule for whatever reason.

Was this butterfly effect or something? Who knew, but at least it made me decide to not blindly trust video game canon timings ever again.

The cool mountain breeze washed over my ass, carrying the faint, smoky scent of burning pine and jet fuel from the cliffside above.

I was currently stretched out in the damp mountain grass in my evolved Cerberus form, taking full advantage of the post-apocalyptic scenery. My heavy, black-armored hound skull was resting right in the middle of Rebecca’s bare midriff, enjoying the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing while the remnants of the Umbrella Training Facility put on a spectacular fireworks show in the distance.

Every few seconds, a muffled thoom echoed across the valley as another underground ammunition dump detonated, painting the dark Arklay skyline in bright flashes of orange and crimson.

In the dark tree line surrounding our little grassy clearing, the woods occasionally rustled with eerie, sharp noises—breaking twigs, night birds screeching, and the faint, shuffling steps of lost forest fauna.

Rebecca twitched slightly beneath me, her small hands resting on my furry ears as she scanned the shadowy tree line with wide, vigilant eyes.

"Hey... Ghosty," she whispered, her voice still carrying a tired rasp from our Olympic sprint out of the tunnels. "Maybe staying out in the open here isn’t the best idea. That explosion was loud enough to wake up every infected thing in a ten-mile radius."

I let out a lazy, warm chuff, ignoring her tactical concerns entirely. Instead, I rubbed the side of my broad snout straight across her soft, smooth belly, shifting my full two-hundred-pound canine bulk until I was draped entirely over her lower body like a furry, two-hundred-pound weighted blanket.

Move? Are you crazy? I just spent six hours dodging rocket launchers, giant insects, and self-destruct timers. I am currently using prime-grade S.T.A.R.S. stomach as a tempur-pedic pillow. We are not moving until sunrise.

Besides, the local wildlife in these woods consisted of standard shambling corpses and basic Cerberus hounds. To a degraded zombie, an evolved Alpha Cerberus was essentially an apex predator walking through a preschool. Nothing in these trees was stupid enough to cross my perimeter.

Still, just to put her anxious medic brain at ease without having to lift my heavy ass off the grass, I accessed my mutation inventory.

[Equip Mutation: <Clicker Echolocation>?]

Confirm.

A familiar, intense heat bloomed across my skull. Thick, calcified fungal plates erupted through the fur on my forehead and cheeks, framing my canine eyes in a jagged, bone-like mask as my throat reshaped itself.

I opened my jaws and let out a series of sharp, rapid clicks.

Click. Click. Click-click-click.

High-frequency sound waves bounced off the pine trees, the rocks, and the distant bushes, instantly flooding my brain with a stark, three-dimensional sonar map of the entire forest. Two deer three hundred yards away, three standard zombies stuck in a bush to the north, and zero active threats.

Rebecca stared down at my face, watching the fungal armor sprout across my snout in real time as the bizarre typewriter clicking filled the air.

She blinked once, twice, and then let out an exhausted, disbelieving sigh.

"Wait... you had this thing back on the train too," she murmured, her hazel eyes narrowing with sharp realization. "Is this... some kind of biological echolocation? Are you scanning the woods for danger just so you don’t have to get off my lap?"

I gave her a quick, proud whuff of confirmation, my tail giving a lazy thwack against the grass.

"You are such an extraordinarily lazy, perverted bum," Rebecca muttered, though she didn’t actually push my head away. In fact, her fingers unconsciously went back to scratching the soft fur right behind my newly grown fungal plates. "Fine. But just so you know, I’m blaming you if some mutant bear pops out of the dark and tries to eat us."

Satisfied that the perimeter was secure and my pillow wasn’t going anywhere, I finally pulled up the mountain of unread system notifications sitting in my diagnostic inbox.

I had been waiting for this payout for hours. Ever since I realized James Marcus was running around looking like a twenty-something K-pop idol despite having been murdered a decade ago, I had been salivating over the Queen Leech’s genetic blueprint.

My baseline Zombie form was degraded trash, and while my Cerberus and Hunter forms were great for murdering things, they weren’t exactly suitable for walking into a five-star restaurant or picking up women at a bar. I wanted a proper, pristine human form. In my head, I had already spent hours designing my future human chassis—an absolute Adonis unit with a chiseled eight-pack, steel-blue eyes, broad shoulders, and a smile that could dissolve clothing at thirty paces.

I tapped the new blueprint notification with eager anticipation.

[Unique Biological Entity Absorbed: Queen Leech (Epic)]

[Description: A unique parasitic organism born from the direct synthesis of the Progenitor virus inside a collective leech colony, which later mutated into the foundational t-Virus. Possesses hyper-adaptive cellular restructuring and collective hive-mind intelligence.]

[Innate Ability: Parasitic Assimilation. The host can rapidly parasitize any fresh human or biological corpse, absorbing the target’s residual memories, vocal patterns, and complete control over its physical biology.

Drawback: Because the biology of the host and the parasitized corpse become interlinked, sustaining fatal damage to the corpse will inflict severe feedback on the host. Abandoning a damaged corpse will leave the host in a severely weakened state for a duration proportional to the damage sustained.]

I re-read the paragraph three times. Then four times.

My canine eyes slowly widened behind my fungal mask.

Wait. Hold the fuck up.

System! Where is the rest of the description?! Where is the handsome human form?! Where is my six-pack?! Where is the blue-eyed Adonis package?!

The System responded with its usual cold, mechanical indifference.

[Notice: Host is advised that the entity classified as <Queen Leech> is natively a parasitic invertebrate collective. The organism does not naturally possess a humanoid baseline form. The human appearance previously exhibited by James Marcus was achieved solely through the long-term parasitic assimilation of Dr. Marcus’s discarded corpse.]

My brain flatlined.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

The human transformation wasn’t a built-in feature of the monster?! It was just a worm piloting a dead guy’s meat-suit like a grotesque flesh-mecha?!

My dreams of seamlessly reintegrating into human society as a drop-dead gorgeous, shapeshifting supermodel collapsed into a pile of smoking ash.

"NOOOOOOO!" I wanted to scream, but all that came out of my snout was a muffled, tragic canine whine.

[To Be Continued]

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