Chapter 48: Searching Options

*Blip.*

Just as the three sets of jaws snapped shut on the empty, shredded leather of the passenger seat, Michael’s physical form dissolved into the void. The seamless, instantaneous spatial displacement executed perfectly.

At the next moment, he materialized directly onto the open asphalt, standing firmly behind the rear flanks of the three lunging beasts. The hounds, carried by their immense momentum, crashed heavily into the interior cabin of the ruined SUV, their target suddenly vanishing into air.

Michael didn’t give them a single second to reposition. Moving with his highest speed, he stepped forward. His Level 5 shortsword became a blur of dark steel, tracing three distinct, efficient lines through the air.

*Slash. Thrust. Chop.*

The first lateral slash severed the tendons of the nearest Level 2 hound, collapsing its stance. Before it hit the chassis, Michael’s blade reversed direction, executing a deep thrust straight through the rear ribcage of the second Level 2 variant, piercing its heart. The massive Level 3 alpha began to twist its bulky torso around, its bone-ridged spine bristling as it let out a deafening roar, but Michael’s movement was already complete. He utilized the rotational momentum of his body to bring the shortsword downward in a vertical, heavy chop, cleanly severing its upper body.

The three bodies collapsed into a heap of bleeding flesh within the ruined frame of the vehicle.

[You have killed a Dire Hound (Variant) – Level 2]

[You have received 25 Experience Points]

[You have killed a Dire Hound (Variant) – Level 2]

[You have received 25 Experience Points]

[You have killed an Alpha Dire Hound (Variant) – Level 3]

[You have received 50 Experience Points]

Michael stood amidst the remains, but instead of satisfaction, a hollow, unnatural emptiness resonated within his chest—a tactile sensation of absolute depletion that was more alarming than a physical wound.

On the edge of his peripheral vision, the glowing blue interface flickered rhythmically, its numerical mana counter resting at nearly zero. With that last frantic teleportation, he had completely burned through his remaining mana reserves.

According to his internal calculations, his passive regeneration rate would require exactly 120 seconds—two full minutes—before his mana pool would recover a sufficient threshold to execute even a single short-range blink.

Two minutes in the unbuffered, lethal reality of the apocalypse, without his primary defensive asset, was an eternity.

Michael’s gaze darkened as he analyzed his structural vulnerabilities. He was currently operating entirely without a safety net. Without his teleportation he now did not possess a single life-saving card. If a high-tier monster managed to bypass his physical guard within the next 120 seconds, there would be no way out. Every single strike he absorbed could end his life. Although he became stronger through level ups, his body was still only slightly more durable than mundane humen. He had to be extraordinarily, ruthlessly cautious.

The violent sounds of his previous encounter, including the high-velocity collision of the SUV, the shattering of glass, and the guttural death roars of the Dire Hounds, had ripple effects across the immediate urban grid.

From the intersecting alleyways and the shadows of the buildings ahead, low, rhythmic padding echoed against the asphalt. He could see them already, as a new pack of hairless, hound-like variants curved around a stranded delivery truck, their eyes locked onto his position and their jaws dripping with fresh ichor. They were already moving into a full sprint, their muscular forms cutting through the pale spring air.

And they were merely the vanguard. Based on the escalating frequency of distant, overlapping roars vibrating through the concrete canyons, Michael knew with certainty that the density of anomalies in this sector would explode within minutes.

That a massive, unstoppable tide had not already completely swarmed his exact coordinates was an anomaly he most likely owed entirely to the other survivors scattered across the municipal district. Farther down the main avenue, the sharp, echoed the desperate, high-pitched shrieks of fighting humans cut through the air. The fragmented remnants of the university vanguards and students were most likely being hunted through the adjacent sectors, creating a chaotic distribution of sensory triggers that distracted the most of the monsters. They were providing him with a temporary, inadvertent buffer.

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But the buffer was rapidly deteriorating. He could not remain in this structural chokepoint for longer. He had to move, and he had to move immediately.

Closing his eyes for a fraction of a second, Michael forced his Willpower to its absolute operational peak. The cold, internal hammer of his discipline slammed down upon the rising static of panic, crushing it. He suppressed his emotional responses entirely, transforming his consciousness back into a cold calculator. He needed to evaluate his transit options through a strict matrix of risk vs. efficiency.

An analytical breakdown of his paths immediately formed in his mind. Traveling on foot meant an exceptionally low speed compared to the speed of the monsters, but his footprint sounds would be minimal. He would remain highly elusive, generating near-zero vibrations. This gave him maximum tactical control because he could systematically exploit the narrow topography of the streets, engaging his pursuers in controlled, isolated sequences and eliminating the monsters one by one before the mass could overwhelm his physical stamina. In total, a foot journey would attract a significantly lower volume of monsterd, but his progress across the 80-kilometer journey toward his family in Lower Austria would be catastrophically slow.

Conversely, choosing a car offered high velocity, capable of outmatching the sustained running speeds of low-tier variants and breaching localized perimeters. However, the sound would be extreme, as an engine would act as a continuous siren, drawing a linear trail of aggressive focus across every sector he traversed. Tactical control would be dangerously low, given the severe risk of encountering mass structural blockages or being forced into another high-speed collision. It was a higher operational risk of being brought to a definitive, violent halt, but it offered the only statistically viable velocity to bridge the geographic distance before his family’s structural defenses failed.

The decision was brutal, but clear. He could not afford the luxury of being slow. Speed was the primary parameter he needed to optimize if he intended to save his family. A car was the only way.

"It would be the best to find an electric car," Michael muttered to himself, his voice a low, hard rasp against the cold spring air. "Electric cars operate almost entirely without sound. It drives silent. This way, I could maintain high speed while remaining silent at the same time without alerting the bigger swarm for a significantly longer time."

With his decision locked into his tactical framework, Michael lunged forward, sprinting away from the smoking wreckage of the SUV and navigating through the labyrinth of dead sedans toward the nearest cluster of abandoned vehicles.

Behind him, the clicking of claws against the asphalt grew sharper, more distinct. The herded beasts were directly on his heels, the lead creature launching itself into a low, horizontal trajectory toward his blind spot just as he reached his next car to be.

The monsters were directly on his heels, their smelling breath almost touching the back of his neck. He gripped the door handle, swung himself into the interior cabin with a fluid, violent motion, and slammed the heavy door shut behind him.

*SMASH.*

The lead hound collided heavily with the driver-side door frame a second later. Its blunt, hairless skull shattered the glass of the window instantly, sending a cascade of crystalline fragments exploding across Michael’s lap. The creature’s elongated, muscular neck forced its way through the ruined window, its jaws snapping frantically within inches of his face, its rancid breath filling the confined space of the cabin.

Michael ignored the snapping teeth, his right hand reaching to the key. The car hummed to life and he slammed his foot onto the accelerator,.

The sedan surged forward, the sudden shift tearing the car away from the initial attacker and throwing the hound back onto the asphalt.

But the monster did not relent.

As the sedan accelerated down the debris-littered street, it executed a powerful, desperate leap. Its heavy body slammed against the side of the accelerating car.

Its hooked claws gouged deep trenches, anchoring its weight firmly onto the metal window frame. The creature pulled its upper torso through the shattered glass of the driver-side door, its eyes glowing with a feral, crimson malice as it unhinged its jaws to rip into Michael’s throat.

Instinct took over where spatial magic could not.

Unable to dodge within the cramped constraints of the driver's seat, Michael raised his left arm in a sudden, violent defensive motion, presenting his forearm as a sacrificial barrier to shield his vital parts.

The hound’s teeth sank deep into his flesh.

A sharp, blinding surge of pain radiated through him as the teeth pierced through his clothing and embedded themselves into his muscle tissue. But Michael didn't scream.

With his right hand, he instantly let go of the steering wheel. He didn’t need to reach into a physical sheath; his mind locked onto his inventory interface with clarity.

*Materialize.*

In the next moment, the Level 5 matte-grey shortsword manifested directly into his right grip. Utilizing the short, compact architecture of the weapon, Michael brought the blade up in a swift, brutal reverse-thrust. The sharp edge of the dark alloy cut through the underside of the hound’s jaw.

The steel, offering zero resistance, cut through the creature’s brain.

The hound's body stiffened violently, the tension in its jaw instantly evaporating as its eyes went hollow and dark.

[You have killed a Dire Hound (Variant) – Level 2]

[You have received 25 Experience Points]

The blue notification flashed across his vision, but Michael's expression remained an unreadable mask of iron. With a heavy shove of his bleeding left arm, he thrust the carcass out of the shattered window frame, letting it tumble onto the receding asphalt below.

His sword dematerialised again and Michael’s right hand gripped the steering wheel once more, stabilizing the trajectory of the sedan as it sped again.