Chapter 65: Chapter 65 - Samson End

The corpse at his feet belonged to the man with pale, zombie-like skin—the one who had spotted Zack earlier and reported to Samson from the tall building. Dr. Samson’s voice trembled with a mixture of rage and desperation. “I’m going to kill you!” he bellowed, his werewolf form towering as he turned his bloodshot eyes toward Zack, who hovered calmly in the air. The fury in his gaze made it seem as though he wanted to tear Zack apart with his teeth.

Zack, however, remained unfazed, his tone dripping with condescension. “Wait... You’re saying that thing—” he gestured casually toward the corpse—“was supposed to save humanity? That’s your great hope?”

His words struck a nerve. Dr. Samson roared again, this time with unrestrained savagery.

On all fours like a beast, he lunged forward with astonishing speed. His claws—sharp enough to gouge through concrete—sank into a nearby wall as he scaled the building, intent on using it as a springboard to reach Zack. Each movement was a blur of raw power, his strength amplified by his transformation. But no matter how fast he was, flight was beyond him.

As Dr. Samson reached the rooftop and leaped toward Zack, claws extended, Zack let out a small, almost bored sigh. “You really gave it your best, huh?”

The Vulcan machine gun on Zack’s suit locked onto the airborne target. The barrel spun with a mechanical whir before unleashing a torrent of bullets. “No!” Dr. Samson roared in defiance, but his voice was drowned out by the deafening gunfire. The rounds tore into his body, sending him plummeting back to the street. Blood sprayed into the air as his massive frame crashed onto the asphalt, leaving a shallow crater in the road.

Even then, he wasn’t dead. His thick fur had absorbed some of the impact, leaving the bullets lodged in his muscles. Zack frowned slightly behind his visor. “Guess I’ll need armor-piercing rounds next time,” he muttered.

The Vulcan gun swiveled again, targeting Dr. Samson as he struggled to rise. Zack had no intention of giving him another chance. The weapon roared for three more seconds, each bullet a hammer of judgment as flames and smoke consumed the fallen werewolf. The relentless barrage left Dr. Samson lying motionless in a pool of his own blood.

Zack’s thrusters powered down as he descended, landing with a metallic thud next to Samson’s body. “Sir,” the voice of his AI assistant, Ego, crackled in his ear. “He’s still clinging to life.”

Zack raised an eyebrow. “Still alive? Damn, this guy’s stubborn.”

Samson twitched at the sound of Zack landing. His massive, fur-covered frame began to shrink, reverting to his human form. Blue-gray fur faded away, leaving behind blood-soaked skin riddled with scars. “Kill... you...” Samson wheezed, his voice barely above a whisper. Even as his body lay broken, his eyes blazed with hatred.

“Hate me that much?” Zack crouched beside him, his voice mocking. “Funny, when you were sneaking up on me earlier, you didn’t seem too concerned about the consequences.”

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“You... ruined... the hope of mankind...” Samson rasped, before a violent cough wracked his body. He spat out a mouthful of blood and fragments of his own organs.

“Hope?” Zack scoffed, flicking open his visor to reveal his cold, unyielding face. “Humanity lost its hope a long time ago. And even if there’s any left, it sure as hell wasn’t coming from you.” Samson’s glare didn’t waver, even as his body failed him. Zack stood and placed a boot firmly on Samson’s head.

“Ego, activate thrusters. Five percent power.” The propellers on Zack’s suit hummed to life, spraying bright, searing flames downward. The high temperature instantly charred Samson’s face, burning away flesh until nothing but blackened bone remained.

“AAAAAHHHHH!” Samson’s agonized screams echoed for five harrowing seconds before falling silent. The flames died down, leaving behind a carbonized skull.

“Rest in peace, Doc.” Zack crushed the brittle remains underfoot with a sickening crunch, scattering charred fragments across the street.

Not far away, a group of survivors from Samson’s team emerged from the ruins of a hospital. They had hidden in the basement during Zack’s assault, and only six out of a dozen had made it out alive. The moment they climbed out, they were greeted by the grisly sight of their leader’s mutilated corpse. “Hiss—” They sucked in sharp breaths, their faces pale with fear.

“We... we need to split up and run!” one of them stammered, and the others nodded in frantic agreement. But before they could act, the heavy clang of metal striking the ground sounded behind them.

Swallowing hard, the group turned around, their movements stiff with dread. There stood Zack, his armor glinting ominously in the dim light. Dust swirled around him as he tilted his head slightly, his tone almost playful. “Running already? Come on, guys. Your boss is gone. Shouldn’t you follow him to keep him company?” Zack’s voice, cold and ruthless, penetrated his closed armor.

“No, no, please... Begging you, I’m not with Samson! I was deceived, I swear! It’s true!”

The six people standing before him reacted differently to his words. Some dropped to their knees, kowtowing and begging for mercy. Others rambled in desperation, trying to confuse or deceive him. Yet one thing united them: their overwhelming fear of death. The method Zack had used to kill Dr. Samson had clearly left a deep impression.

“So, you’re saying none of you worked for Dr. Samson?” Zack asked, his tone laced with mockery as his eyes scanned them.

“Yeah!”

“Exactly! We’re just like those survivors, we were captured too!”

“That’s right!”

In their panic, they didn’t even realize their slip. Mentioning "those survivors" exposed them—they clearly weren’t mere victims. “Well,” Zack said, a small smile playing on his lips, “I don’t care if you were Samson’s people or not. What matters is whether you’re smart enough to help me.”

Of course, Zack already knew the truth about them. He wasn’t fooled. But rather than killing them outright, he saw a better use for them. “Wait, are you serious?” one of them asked, stunned.

The sudden twist left the six in disbelief. Zack wasn’t going to kill them—instead, he was offering them a chance to work for him. After Zack gave a firm nod, their relief was palpable. Faces lit up with joy as they scrambled to pledge their loyalty.

“No problem at all!”

“Boss, I’m your dog now! I’ll do whatever you say!”

“You want me to go east? I won’t even think about going west!”

Zack watched as they dropped to their knees again, swearing their loyalty with loud declarations. “Let me guess,” Zack said, his voice icy. “You knelt just like this to that mad doctor, didn’t you?”

Panic flickered across their faces, but they quickly denied it.

“No, no, we hate him!”

“Only to you, sir! You’re the only one we’ll ever kneel to!”

To prove their loyalty, they began slamming their heads against the ground in exaggerated kowtows.

“Enough.” Zack waved a hand dismissively, his voice cold. “Go back to the lab. When the plane arrives, load the equipment I’ve marked onto it.”