Lex had risked killing the police zombie for one reason—the Glock 17.
But as the body hit the floor, something unexpected happened.
Four translucent bubbles floated out of the corpse.
Each displayed different content.
"Two spare Glock 17 magazines."
"Precision Shooting Skill."
"Stamina +1."
"Experience +10."
Before Lex could react, three of the bubbles drifted toward him and merged into his body.
"What the hell…?"
Monster kill loot?
He blinked, and the System panel updated automatically.
Experience Points: 10
New Skill Acquired: Precision Shooting
Stamina: +1
The two spare magazines appeared in the storage section of the interface.
With a thought, the magazine icons vanished—
—and two fully loaded Glock 17 magazines materialized in his hand.
Lex stared at them.
System space?
He immediately began testing.
The magazines could be stored or retrieved instantly with nothing but intent.
That alone was incredibly valuable.
If he killed something and it dropped equipment, it went directly into storage. Taking it out or putting it back required only a mental command.
Now he needed to test something else.
He focused on the fire axe in his hand.
With a thought, it disappeared.
At the same time, a fire axe icon appeared in the storage grid with a small "1" beneath it.
He withdrew it again. It reappeared in his grip.
The Glock could be stored and retrieved the same way.
This was a cheat ability.
Even if he passed through security checkpoints, he could carry weapons without physically carrying them.
The only limitation he noticed: to store an item, he had to touch it first. Remote collection didn't work.
That was a drawback.
Perhaps his level was too low. Maybe storage range would expand later.
After killing the zombie without alerting the infected outside, Lex exited through the back door again.
Now he needed to test Precision Shooting properly.
As he moved through the alley in zombie disguise, he analyzed the loot system.
The spare magazines and shooting skill clearly corresponded to the police officer's profession.
Meaning—
When he killed a target, there was a chance to obtain that target's skills or equipment.
If that was true…
If he could hunt down Bruce Wayne…
Would he gain Batman's skills and gear?
From ordinary civilian to superhero in one kill.
But there was a complication.
The System had declared Alice the last superhero.
Which meant Bruce Wayne was probably dead.
If Bruce Wayne died as a human, there would be no drop.
But if Bruce Wayne had turned into a zombie like everyone else…
Then killing him might still yield Batman's abilities.
With that thought, Lex quietly set himself a long-term objective:
Find Bruce Wayne.
The alley was empty.
No zombies.
His acting was wasted.
Once he emerged onto the main street, he resumed his staggering zombie gait, Glock ready to be drawn at any moment.
Most nearby infected were still gathered at the convenience store feast. He encountered few along the way, and none approached him.
After walking several blocks, he stopped.
Iceberg Lounge.
The Penguin's territory.
Lex's eyes sharpened.
If he could eliminate the Penguin and acquire his skills or equipment, that would be a significant boost.
He approached.
Squeak.
He pushed the door open.
Dim lights flickered inside.
Whoosh—
Before he could step in fully, a thin zombie lunged from just inside the doorway.
The ambush had been perfectly timed.
Lex reacted instinctively.
Two steps back.
Glock raised.
Trigger pulled.
Poof.
The movement felt automatic.
He didn't consciously aim.
Yet the bullet struck the zombie dead center in the forehead.
It was as if the target had politely pressed its skull against the muzzle.
So this is Precision Shooting.
Excitement flashed through him.
He had gone from complete novice to headshot specialist instantly.
As the corpse dropped, three bubbles floated upward.
"Skilled Pickpocketing."
"A Switchblade."
"Experience +3."
The drops confirmed his hypothesis.
Loot corresponded to the target's former profession and capabilities.
This zombie had likely been one of Penguin's low-level street thieves.
His greatest talent was probably lifting wallets.
The switchblade was likely his only weapon.
In Gotham, carrying only a switchblade meant you were barely worth noticing.
No stamina drop.
Only three experience points.
Weak body.
Lex absorbed the rewards.
Confidence rose.
He stepped inside the Iceberg Lounge, Glock held in a two-handed grip.
Not far in, a female zombie in an elegant evening dress sat motionless in a booth.
Maybe the gunshot had alerted her.
Maybe Lex had relaxed his zombie act.
The moment she spotted him, her face twisted, and she lunged.
Bang.
At over thirty feet away, Lex fired once.
Headshot.
Two bubbles emerged.
"A Rare Jewelry Necklace."
"Stamina +1."
Stronger than the thief.
After the outbreak, the Iceberg Lounge probably never reopened. Or perhaps patrons had fled too late.
On the first floor alone, Lex encountered five zombies.
Each one died with a single bullet to the head.
Each kill sharpened his movements.
Each shot reinforced the terrifying efficiency of Precision Shooting.
And with every corpse that fell, Lex Williams felt himself stepping further away from helpless civilian—
—and closer to something else entirely.