Lear snapped his wrist with force, jerking the Hunter back from outside the window and slamming it hard against the corridor wall with a dull thud.
The Hunter was left dazed and disoriented, clutching its head on the ground for a long while before finally managing to scramble back to its feet.
Realizing Lear had no intention of letting it escape, the creature's ferocity surged, the human-like intelligence in its eyes replaced by a crimson bloodlust. It charged at Lear, swinging its massive claws in an overlapping pattern to seal off any possible dodge routes.
In truth, Lear hadn't initially cared about its attack. To him, B.O.W.s like the Hunter posed no real threat anymore; even a Tyrant would be nothing but mincemeat before his current self.
From the initial zombies to the later Tyrants, Lickers, and even the Nemesis, the dangers Lear encountered along the way had made him stronger, but they had also made him somewhat overconfident.
He didn't dodge or parry. Instead, he prepared to use offense as defense to end the fight the moment the creature closed in.
As the Hunter's claws swung toward Lear, their speed suddenly spiked, leaving a trail of afterimages in the air.
Lear was caught slightly off guard by the sudden acceleration. In his haste, he had no choice but to take the blow head-on.
The moment his arm collided with the Hunter's claw, Lear's expression shifted, and he retreated rapidly.
After backing up two or three steps, Lear looked at his arm to find a dark, black-and-blue bruise. This Hunter's strength was unusually high, and its speed was just as remarkable.
"It even knows how to use delayed attacks!" Lear cursed under his breath, his expression finally turning serious.
The strike having failed to finish the job, the Hunter didn't stop. It brandished its claws and charged once more.
As Lear dodged, he gradually adapted to the rhythm of the Hunter's strikes and began observing its movements.
He noticed that this Hunter fought with a higher level of intelligence; with every swing, it kept one arm positioned to protect its skull.
While protecting one's weaknesses might be biological instinct, Lear's next discovery made him increasingly wary. This Hunter was actually trying to bait him into attacking its head. Every few strike intervals, it would quietly move the claw guarding its skull, deliberately exposing a seemingly fatal opening.
To seasoned veterans like Lear, Carlos, or Jill, this combat logic still seemed quite amateurish. However, for a bioweapon that was supposed to have little to no autonomy, possessing such clear tactical thinking was extremely rare.
Watching the Hunter's performance, Lear was now almost certain that the creature's weakness wasn't its head—or at the very least, it had a counter-measure prepared for such an attack. Regardless, Lear was done stalling.
The Hunter's speed and strength were beyond what Lear had anticipated. But once he cast aside his hubris, Lear's raw power still completely overwhelmed that of the Hunter.
Just as the Hunter continued its attempt to bait Lear into an opening, Lear suddenly vanished from its line of sight. The Hunter froze visibly, its movements slowing in confusion. While it was still searching for Lear's trail, it felt a massive force at the back of its head as a size 44 boot stomped directly onto its skull.
The Hunter stumbled uncontrollolly, its head slamming violently into the hospital wall. Cracks spiderwebbed across the surface, yet the Hunter seemed to be perfectly fine other than being momentary dazed.
"Damn! Is it that tough?" Lear couldn't help but grumble after landing.
Just as Lear was about to press his attack, the Hunter suddenly snapped its head to the side and unhinged its massive maw, spraying two streams of green liquid from beneath its fangs.
Fortunately, Lear had been watching the Hunter's every move. The moment he saw it turn its head, he had already retreated.
The two streams of green liquid missed their mark and splashed onto the floor nearby with a sharp hizzing sound. When Lear turned to look, his pupils constricted slightly. In just a few seconds, the concrete floor had been corroded into several small pits by the liquid.
Seeing its trump card fail, the Hunter instinctively wanted to get away from this terrifying Great Ape. But Lear had no intention of letting it go; he closed the distance instantly and buried a kick into the Hunter's stomach.
Struck by the blow, the Hunter performed a "falling leaf" spin through the air, flying seven or eight meters sideways before hitting the corner of the wall with a heavy thud.
Realizing the gap in their strength, the Hunter struggled on the ground for a few moments before curling up in the corner and remaining still. Then, Lear actually heard a harsh, grating sound coming from the Hunter—it sounded like a cat meowing, or... like a child crying!
"Is this thing crying?"
Lear doubted his own ears. Fearing the Hunter might be setting another trap, he didn't step forward to investigate immediately.
About half a minute passed this way, yet the Hunter's crying didn't stop.
Lear walked up slowly and discovered that this nearly two-meter-tall B.O.W., capable of shredding an adult with a single claw, was curled into a ball with its head pressed against the wall, sobbing piteously. It actually sounded quite aggrieved.
"What the hell are you upset about? You're the one who tried to ambush me, okay? You're crying? I haven't even started crying yet!" Lear helplessly bent over and patted this peculiar Hunter, while secretly remaining on guard against a surprise attack.
Instead of counterattacking, the Hunter swatted Lear's hand away and began to cry even more bitterly.
Seeing that the Hunter seemingly had no intention of continuing the fight, Lear took two slow steps forward and said, "I know you can understand me. I've never seen a Hunter like you before. Tell you what—I won't hurt you, as long as you don't cause me any trouble."
With that, Lear turned and walked slowly toward the nurse station, while attempting to trigger the perception ability he had accidentally discovered earlier to ensure the Hunter wouldn't stab him in the back. He didn't want to kill this Hunter; call it intuition, but he felt it would be more useful alive than dead.
However, the Insect Sense-like sensing ability did not trigger this time, and that black-and-white world didn't appear in his mind.
Lear wasn't surprised by the failure of his power. He muttered to himself, "Looks like I'll have to do a systematic check-up once I get out of here."
The walk from the corridor to the nurse station was short. Along the way, Lear saw many zombie corpses strewn across the floor in total disarray.
Lear reached the door of the nurse station and knocked. "Carlos! Open up, it's me."
An answer came from inside, followed by the rustling sound of things being moved around.
Soon, the door opened, and Carlos poked his head out. Seeing Lear standing outside, a smile broke across his face as he couldn't help but crack a joke.
"Mr. Butcher, we are very glad to see you, especially in a situation like this!"
Lear raised an eyebrow. "Butcher?"
Carlos just smiled and shook his head without explaining, then waved for the others to come out.
Murphy and Brad followed him out. Just as they were exchanging a few words with Lear and preparing to head downstairs to return to the Main Hall...
Something that had been hiding on the hospital ceiling finally moved.
The three Hunters that had been chasing Carlos and the others had been using the shadows and the color of their skin to hide directly above their heads. They had been waiting for Carlos to open the door, but they hadn't expected to find Lear waiting there instead.
(Translated by yourtl.app)