Zombie Survival System-Chapter 130: The Water Trial (4)

After roughly ten minutes of intense swimming, Alexandre and Marlon finally managed to rejoin the leading group. They had swum at full speed, tapping into the very last reserves of their strength to close the gap created by the earlier chaos.

Still gasping for breath, Marlon broke the silence between labored breaths:

"What the hell just happened back there? I felt this horrible terror, and then everything just went completely black..."

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

Alexandre paused briefly, searching for the best way to explain something he didn't fully understand himself. Marlon deserved at least an attempt at clarity.

"To be honest, I'm not entirely sure," Alexandre admitted. "But it seems like some sort of collective hysteria hits Hunters after swimming for a prolonged time in the ocean."

Marlon's expression tightened, visibly troubled and anxious at the mention of a danger he'd never encountered before.

"Seriously? Shit, I've never heard anything like that!"

Alexandre nodded solemnly. "Me neither. It caught me completely off guard as well. It hit me too, but luckily I managed to regain control."

Marlon cast a nervous glance around, his voice less confident now.

"You think it might happen again?"

Alexandre shrugged gravely. "Honestly, I have no idea. It's the first time I've experienced anything like this. But we should stay alert."

Marlon groaned in frustration, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Damn it... That shit caught me totally off guard—I really thought I was done for!"

Alexandre tried to lighten the mood with a reassuring grin.

"Yeah, me too. Just keep focused. I have no idea what prolonged swimming in open ocean waters could do."

Marlon barked out an angry laugh mixed with exhaustion.

"Oh, fuck off! Can't you be a bit more optimistic, asshole? My whole body's still shaking from that bullshit!"

Spotting an opportunity to ease the tension, Alexandre shot back sarcastically:

"I just never imagined a huge lump of shit like you could be so terrified of a little cold water!"

Despite his exhaustion, Marlon burst out laughing at Alexandre's taunt. Raising his head defiantly above the waves, he shouted with fierce determination, almost like a battle cry:

"It's me, Marlon, who survived that damn crisis! Bunch of bitche! I'm gonna win this fucking challenge, climb up that podium, and get filthy rich!"

Several nearby students glanced over in surprise, but Marlon's bold declaration seemed to momentarily ease the oppressive atmosphere. Alexandre smiled quietly to himself, appreciating his companion's stubborn resilience.

Now, despite their banter, Alexandre and Marlon silently decided to swim closely together, ready to help each other should the need arise. This caution seemed prudent given the lingering tension in the air.

Alexandre quickly glanced behind, assessing the extent of the damage caused by the earlier crisis. The sight was chilling. The immense group of over a thousand students had suffered a devastating reduction. Alexandre couldn't tell exactly how many had been eliminated, but one glance was enough to confirm that more than half were gone, already retrieved by rescue rafts.

Those who remained appeared completely drained, swimming with weary movements as if they'd been struggling for ten continuous hours, although it had barely been one hour of actual swimming. Their faces were pale and drawn, their movements mechanical and heavy, clearly indicating severe exhaustion.

But just as the remaining candidates thought the worst was behind them, Jack Blade suddenly increased his pace sharply. While an average swimmer could comfortably manage a speed of around four or five kilometers per hour, Jack abruptly accelerated to nearly nine kilometers per hour—a speed usually reserved for Olympic-level swimmers.

Students instantly grasped the gravity of this new challenge, and their already fragile morale took another severe blow. Yet none voiced any complaint, too mentally and physically exhausted from the previous ordeal to even contemplate protest.

Alexandre and Marlon deliberately maintained a slight distance from the group, knowing their mutual support could again become vital. They managed to sustain this punishing pace for another half-hour, but Alexandre soon noticed Marlon beginning to struggle significantly. His breathing turned heavy and labored, his strokes increasingly sluggish and strained.

As they approached the two-hour mark, Alexandre felt a disturbing sensation beginning to rise once again within him. A cold, creeping unease slithered into his mind, causing him to shiver despite his intense physical exertion. He immediately recognized the feeling: the abyssal hysteria was returning, insidious and far stronger than before.