Apocalypse System: The Disabled Doctor

Chapter 7. The Executioner's Absolute Nadir

"Break down that wooden door and destroy every breathing thing inside!"

​Captain Viktor's voice was heavy and muffled behind his protective mask. The execution order echoed with crystal clarity in Zac's ears, piercing right through the thick door of the medical records room. The synchronized stomping of steel-toed tactical boots advanced steadily toward his hiding place.

​Zac's eyes scanned the pitch-black room at lightning speed. He spotted two massive medical oxygen tanks standing upright in the corner of the room, right beside a storage rack filled with liquid chemicals. An incredibly insane and highly risky idea flashed through his genius mind.

​"What is the absolute maximum pressure inside those green oxygen tanks?" Zac asked rapidly inside his head.

​[A standard medical oxygen tank holds a maximum pressure of two thousand psi. A sudden, critical breach of the main valve will generate a projectile thrust completely equivalent to the blast of a mid-level improvised explosive device.]

​"Perfect." Zac smirked coldly, stepping silently toward the tanks. "I am going to give them an explosive surprise that will tear their expensive Kevlar vests to shreds."

​Zac used his silver scalpel to ruin the brass safety seal on the neck of the tank. His left fingers moved with microscopic precision, shaving down the threads of the pressure valve without setting off an immediate explosion. He transformed the life-saving cylinder into a highly unstable landmine.

​"The target is confirmed to be behind this door, Captain." A soldier's voice echoed from outside, reporting the findings from his radar screen. "The heartbeat tracker is picking up an incredibly rapid cardiovascular rhythm from inside the room. The target's position is exactly seven meters from the entrance, in the far right corner."

​Zac froze in his tracks. Cold sweat dripped down his temple. His enemy's military technology was far more advanced than he had anticipated. Hiding in the darkness was absolutely useless if his own heartbeat was screaming like a distress beacon.

​"Lower my heart rate right this instant!" Zac issued an absolute command to the system. "Make my heart beat as slowly as humanly possible so their radar sensors cannot track my location!"

​[Critical level warning. The protocol to forcibly suppress the cardiovascular heart rate requires a massive amount of kinetic energy power. Manipulating vital organ functions beyond natural limits will severely drain the host's power reserves down to critical levels.]

​The blue screen on Zac's retinas flashed a warning yellow.

​"Just do it, you stupid machine!" Zac shouted furiously in his mind. "I would much rather risk running out of battery than having my head blown open by their armor-piercing bullets. Drop my heart rate below normal human radar detection this very second!"

​[Absolute command accepted. Initiating vital organ suppression protocol. Extracting large-scale kinetic energy power.]

​A violently piercing, freezing sensation suddenly crawled up from Zac's tailbone straight into his chest. His lungs felt as though they were being crushed by a giant, invisible hand made of solid ice. His heart rate, which had been pounding furiously from adrenaline, was forcibly slowed down to an extreme degree. His blood began to flow incredibly sluggishly through his veins.

​Zac's body temperature plummeted drastically, perfectly matching the freezing temperature of the chilled room. His eyes went wide as he fought against the overwhelming, suffocating tightness in his chest. He forced himself to finish setting his chemical trap. His left hand tied a length of copper wire from the oxygen tank's valve directly to the hinge of the records room door. Whoever opened that door would instantly trigger an overwhelmingly devastating air pressure explosion.

​"The target's heartbeat has vanished from the radar, Captain!" The soldier outside the door reported his confusion, a hint of panic slipping into his tone. "My monitor screen is completely blank. There are absolutely no signs of life inside this room. It is as if the target evaporated into a ghost!"

​"That is entirely impossible!" Captain Viktor barked loudly in the hallway. "That room does not have any window access or exit ventilation. Your tracking device must be malfunctioning due to the freezing temperature of that fire extinguisher gas earlier."

​Zac smiled with deep satisfaction upon hearing his enemies' panic. His biological camouflage tactic had successfully fooled the Scorpion clan's cutting-edge technology. He ducked down, preparing to take cover behind a thick metal rack to shield himself from the blast effects of his own rigged oxygen tank.

​Suddenly, the screen on Zac's retinas flashed a blinding, brilliant red.

​Warning alarms shrieked deafeningly inside his skull. The system's mechanical voice buzzed with a tone that was far more oppressive than ever before.

​[Absolute fatal level warning. Kinetic energy power has been completely depleted. Energy bar has hit exactly zero percent.]

​"What did you just say?" Zac's eyes widened in horror as he stared at the digital numbers in the corner of his vision, which truly read 0%. "Didn't this chip still have fifty-eight percent power left just a second ago? How could it possibly run out that fast?"

​[The forced manipulation of the heart rate burned through the entirety of your remaining cellular energy reserves. Absolute punishment for total kinetic energy depletion is being executed immediately.]

​Before Zac even had the chance to voice a single protest, the cruel punishment violently destroyed his body without an ounce of mercy.

​Pain exploded devastatingly at the base of his skull. The horrifying sensation felt as though thousands of rusted needles were being driven directly into his brain tissue all at once. Zac lost his balance instantly. His body collapsed, slamming into the ceramic floor with a heavy thud.

​The silver scalpel slipped from his left hand, clinking softly in the darkness as it hit the ground.

​The microscopic electrical currents that had been powering the nerves in his left arm were completely severed. Zac's left hand went entirely numb in a matter of seconds. His fingers curled rigidly inward, looking exactly like the withered branches of a dead tree. The arm that just minutes ago could catch a knife in midair had once again reverted to a useless, crippled chunk of meat.

​"Give me the power in my hand back...." Zac groaned through clenched teeth, writhing on the freezing floor. Sweat the size of corn kernels soaked his pale face.

​[The system does not operate on charity. This punishment will run continuously until the host successfully kills an enemy entity to restore kinetic energy. Secondary vital organ failure will occur within exactly five minutes.]

​Zac coughed violently due to the crushing pressure narrowing his lungs. Clumps of thick, dark blood sprayed from his mouth, staining the tiled floor right beneath his face. His vision blurred and went completely out of focus. A long, high-pitched ringing ruined his hearing, completely drowning out the sound of footsteps outside the room.

​The young man pounded his functional right fist against the floor. A volatile mixture of despair and sheer rage tore at his sanity. He had just felt like a god holding absolute control over life and death. He had slaughtered monsters with flawless precision. He had snapped a mafia guard's bones without feeling a single ounce of fear.

​And now, he had fallen right back down to being a pathetic, crippled man.

​Reality slapped him across the face with brutal force. This system was not some eternal, magical power that would constantly save him. This system was a ruthless parasite and a deadly double-edged sword. This device had granted him a second life, while simultaneously holding him hostage under extremely lethal conditions. He was not the master of this chip. He was merely a slave, forced to constantly shed blood just to feed the energy-hungry machine inside his head.

​"I refuse to die a pathetic death in this records room." Zac ground his teeth together, fighting the agonizing pain gnawing at his brain.

​He used his right elbow to drag his body behind the metal rack. The distance of a mere two meters felt like climbing a rocky mountain. Every single movement triggered a massive spike of agony that made his vision flash white. His left hand dragged stiffly across the floor, becoming a heavy, agonizing burden that severely restricted his movements.

​"Prepare the door-breaching explosives!" Captain Viktor issued a tactical command from the other side of the wooden door. "We are not risking a blind entry. Blow that door wide open and toss flashbangs inside! Shoot absolutely anything that is still moving after the flash fades!"

​"Yes, Captain. Explosives will be set in exactly ten seconds."

​Zac heard that conversation with absolute clarity, cutting through his haze of pain. The tripwire trap he had set on the oxygen tank relied entirely on the manual rotation of the door's hinges. If that door was destroyed using explosives from the outside, the direction of the oxygen tank's blast would reverse, entirely sweeping the inside of the records room.

​The brilliant, lethal trap he had just designed had now turned into a suicide weapon that was about to roast him alive.

​"Cancel the explosion of that oxygen tank!" Zac ordered the system in a sheer panic, realizing his fatal error.

​[The system possesses no access to manipulate physical objects outside the host's body. The host must sever the trigger wire manually using their own hands.]

​Zac cursed violently in his mind. He turned around, staring at the oxygen tank's valve, which was now three meters away from his current position. His left hand was totally paralyzed. He had to drag his body all the way back to his starting point using only one hand, all while enduring a headache that felt like it was crushing his skull.

​"Three seconds to detonation!" An elite mafia soldier counted down loudly, his voice brimming with confidence.

​Zac pushed his body with every ounce of strength he had, crawling like a wounded lizard across the floor. His right hand blindly groped the ceramic floor, desperately searching for the silver scalpel he had dropped earlier. His fingers brushed against a puddle of his own blood before finally grasping the freezing cold metal handle.

​"Two seconds!"

​Zac gripped the knife tightly. He rolled onto his back, staring straight up at the copper wire stretched taut in the air of the dark room. He squinted his eyes, forcing them to adjust through the blinding pain blurring his focus. He had to throw that knife with absolute, pinpoint precision using only his right hand.

​If he missed by even a single centimeter, the double explosions from both the outside and inside would absolutely tear his body into minced meat.

​"One second. Detonate!"

​The exact moment Captain Viktor shouted the final command, Zac swung his right arm. The silver scalpel shot forward, slicing through the darkness of the room. The razor-sharp, silver-plated blade cleanly cut the hair-thin copper wire with a very faint, delicate clink.

​The trigger wire snapped in two. The tension holding the oxygen tank's valve in place was completely released.

​A massive explosion struck the door of the records room from the outside at that exact same second. The deafening blast obliterated the wooden frame and the surrounding concrete walls. Thick black smoke mixed with flashes of fire spewed violently into the room. The shockwave sent the metal filing racks flying, crashing down in a chaotic mess.

​Zac shielded his face with his right arm. Sharp splinters of wood flew through the air, scratching his cheeks and neck. The oxygen tank that failed to detonate was crushed beneath the rubble of a collapsed metal rack, saving Zac's life from a fiery hell.

​Two cylindrical metal objects the size of a fist rolled into the center of the room through the thick smoke. They were military-grade flashbang grenades, tossed in by the breaching squad.

​Zac squeezed his eyes tightly shut and buried his face into the floor.

​A brilliant flash of white light, millions of times brighter than the sun, exploded inside the cramped room. The sonic boom rang with agonizing sharpness, completely destroying the fluid balance inside the ears. Those grenades were specifically designed to instantly blind and deafen enemies, completely stripping away all sensory functions right before an execution.

​The thick smoke slowly began to fade, blown away by the wind from the hallway outside.

​The heavy stomping of tactical boots stepped inside, crunching over shattered wood and scattered medical records. Five soldiers of the Black Cleanup Squad entered the records room in a tight, circular combat formation. The barrels of their automatic assault rifles swept every single shadow in the corners, ensuring absolutely no resistance remained.

​Zac lay completely helpless in the corner of the room, partially pinned beneath a collapsed filing rack. His stiff, paralyzed left hand was buried under a pile of papers. He could not see clearly. His eyes were still filled with white spots from the aftereffects of the flashbang. His ears could only hear a long, excruciatingly painful ringing.

​The system's punishment relentlessly tortured the nerves in his brain without a second's pause. His kinetic energy remained at absolute zero. He was truly at his absolute lowest nadir, completely stripped of every physical advantage in front of the mafia executioners.

​Heavy footsteps stopped directly in front of Zac's face. The tip of a steel-toed boot stepped on the ceramic floor, kicking up a small puff of dust. The red laser dot from the barrel of an assault rifle shone squarely in the center of Zac's filthy, blood-stained forehead.

​"Target successfully neutralized," Captain Viktor reported his status over the communication radio on his shoulder. "He offered absolutely no resistance. His left hand appears paralyzed, exactly as reported. We will execute him immediately and extract his spine per Young Master Bryan's orders."

​Zac swallowed the bitter taste of blood in his mouth. He felt the freezing cold steel muzzle of the rifle press directly against the skin of his temple.

​There was absolutely no way out. There was no more magical energy from the system left to save him. His crippled body would never be able to fight off a single armed soldier, let alone five professional killing machines all at once.

​The sound of a weapon being cocked loudly echoed right above his head. A live round was chambered, fully prepared to blow his skull into a million pieces in a matter of seconds.