Zero Logic: The Hunter Gambits

Chapter 02. The 168-Hour Verdict

The first thing Oliver felt was not pain, but an unnatural cold. It was as if the blood in his veins had been replaced with liquid nitrogen. Then, a second later, the pain hit him like a freight train out of control.

"Argh... Fuck!"

Oliver tried to scream, but his voice came out like a rusty iron grater. His throat was bone dry. His body felt heavy, as if the gravity in the room had been multiplied tenfold. He tried to lift his hand, but it felt like trying to hoist a slab of concrete.

"Hold him down! Increase the morphine dose to 10 milligrams! Fast!"

Frantic voices echoed around him. The steady beep-beep-beep of the EKG monitor raced wildly, matching the rhythm of Oliver's heart, which felt as though it were about to explode.

Oliver forced his eyes open. His vision was blurry, spinning. He saw a sterile white ceiling. He smelled a pungent scent of antiseptic mixed with... the smell of rotting meat? No, that was the smell of his own body.

"Mr. Warner? Can you hear me?"

A face appeared above him. It was a male doctor with thick glasses and beads of sweat the size of corn kernels on his forehead. Dr. Sterling, the top specialist at St. Jude Medical Center, the man Oliver paid hundreds of thousands of dollars a year just to ensure his cholesterol was in check.

"Move..." Oliver hissed, trying to swat the doctor’s hand away. "Where am I? What happened, you idiot doctor?"

"You’re in the ICU, sir. You collapsed at the casino two days ago," Dr. Sterling answered quickly, his voice trembling. "Please, don’t move too much. Your condition is extremely critical."

"Two days?" Oliver narrowed his eyes. His memory spun back to the black box. The silver needle. Lucyan. "I’ve been poisoned, haven't I? Give me the antidote, moron! I have plenty of money, buy whatever medicine you need!"

Dr. Sterling swallowed hard, exchanging an anxious glance with the nurse beside him.

"That’s the problem, Mr. Warner," Sterling said softly, as if afraid Oliver might detonate. "We’ve run a full toxicology screen. The results were negative. There are no toxins. But..."

"But what?!" Oliver snapped, attempting to sit up. However, an excruciating pain shot through his spine, forcing him back down. He felt like a ninety-year-old man who had just fallen down a flight of stairs.

Dr. Sterling took a small mirror from the side table and held it in front of Oliver’s face.

"See for yourself, sir."

Oliver stared at the reflection. For the first time in his life, he felt pure terror.

The face in the mirror was not the face of Oliver Warner, the handsome and charismatic King of Gamblers. His cheeks were hollow. His skin was gray and wrinkled like a piece of crumpled paper. His eyes, once sharp and clear, were now sunken with deep, dark circles beneath them. His thick black hair looked thin and dull.

He looked like a corpse that had forgotten to be buried.

"What is this..." Oliver’s hand shook as he touched his own cheek. The skin felt dry and dead. "I’m... I’m aging? I’m dying?"

"Multiple organ failure," Dr. Sterling explained with a note of despair. "Kidneys, liver, lungs... everything is undergoing cellular degradation at an impossible rate. Medically speaking, your cells are committing apoptosis. Mass suicide. We don't know the cause, and we don't know how to stop it."

Oliver slammed the mirror onto the floor, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

"Liar! You’re all incompetent!" Oliver shouted hysterically. "I am Oliver Warner! I can’t die like this! Find a cure or I’ll buy this hospital and fire every one of you!"

His emotions peaked. Oliver tried to rip the IV line from his hand. He had to get out and find Lucyan. That bastard had to have the antidote. This had to be a cheap magic trick. This had to be a nightmare brought on by too much cheap whiskey.

But before he could pull the needle out, a voice spoke.

It didn't come from the mouth of the doctor or the nurse. The voice echoed directly inside his skull. Cold, synthetic, and devoid of emotion.

[Hunter X System successfully installed.]

[Host Calibration complete.]

Oliver froze. His eyes darted wildly around the room.

"Who was that?!" Oliver yelled. "Who’s talking?!"

Dr. Sterling stepped back, terrified. "No one is talking, sir. It’s just us."

"Don’t lie to me! There’s a robot voice in my head!" Oliver pounded his head with his weak hands. "Get out of my head!"

[Warning: Unstable heart rate. Initiating visual synchronization.]

Suddenly, Oliver's world shifted. In front of his eyes, floating in the air as if projected by invisible VR goggles, a blood-red transparent holographic screen appeared.

The screen covered Dr. Sterling’s face. The text flickered in a stiff, monospace font.

[HOST STATUS: CRITICAL]

[CAUSE: LEVEL 5 NECROTIC CURSE]

[REMAINING LIFESPAN: 168 HOURS 00 MINUTES 00 SECONDS]

The numbers began to count down.

167:59:59...

167:59:58...

"What is this..." Oliver muttered, his eyes locked on the diminishing digits. "A hallucination? Am I insane?"

[Not a hallucination, Host Oliver,] the voice answered his thoughts. [This is your sentence. You have seven days before your body's cells dissolve into dust.]

"Seven days?" Oliver laughed, a sound like the sobbing of a madman. "You’re joking, right? I just won five million dollars. I have everything!"

Dr. Sterling signaled the nurse. "He’s delirious. Administer the sedative now!"

The nurse stepped forward with a syringe. Oliver saw it. He didn't want to sleep. If he slept, the clock would keep ticking and he would die without knowing it.

"Don't touch me!" Oliver tried to kick, but his body was too frail.

[Suggestion: Conserve your energy. Physical resistance in this condition will accelerate time depletion by 0.5%.]

"I don't care!" Oliver shouted at the empty air. "I'm getting out! I'm going to find Lucyan!"

He forced himself out of the bed. The moment his feet touched the cold floor, his knees gave way. He fell face-first. The IV line yanked tight, tearing the skin on his hand. Fresh blood dripped onto the white floor.

The pain was immense. His bones felt like cracked glass.

Dr. Sterling and the nurses swarmed him, lifting his frail body back onto the mattress. Oliver struggled, cursing and spitting at the expensive doctor's face.

"Let me go, you bastards! I’m not dying here!"

The sedative pierced his arm. Oliver’s world began to spin in slow motion. The red numbers remained in his vision, floating, mocking him.

167:59:40...

"Get some sleep, sir," Dr. Sterling's voice sounded distant. "We will find a way. We promise."

"Liar..." Oliver whispered before his eyes were forced shut. "None of you... know anything..."

TIME JUMP: 2 DAYS LATER

Oliver woke with a jolt, as if he had just fallen from a tall building in a dream. His breath came in gasps, and cold sweat soaked his hospital gown.

The first thing he looked for was the numbers. He hoped they would be gone. He hoped it was just a side effect of the anesthesia.

But the numbers were still there. They floated faithfully in the upper-left corner of his vision.

[TIME REMAINING: 119 HOURS 30 MINUTES]

"Damn it," Oliver cursed quietly. His voice was hoarse. "Two days gone. Less than five days left."

He felt slightly more 'alive' than before, likely due to the drugs being pumped into his system, but he knew it was a facade. Inside, he could feel his organs slowly rotting. A strange hunger gnawed at his stomach, not a hunger for food, but for something he couldn't explain.

The room was quiet, lit only by the Las Vegas streetlights peeking through the curtains.

Oliver tried to sit up. This time, he succeeded without falling. He stared at his hands. His skin was still gray, his nails slightly blue.

"Okay, System, or whatever you are," Oliver muttered into the darkness. "If you’re real, tell me how to add more time. I know there has to be a way. You wouldn't just be a death clock."

Silence. No answer.

"Hey! Answer me, you piece of shit!" Oliver tapped his temple. "I'm Oliver Warner. I always have a deal. What’s the price? Money? Blood? Souls?"

Still silence.

The door to the room opened slowly. A nurse entered carrying a tray of medication. It wasn't the nurse from before. This one was a young woman with blonde hair tied in a ponytail and a tight white uniform. She walked with a strange gait, too light, almost on her tiptoes.

"Mr. Warner," the nurse greeted him in a voice that was far too sweet, like cheap syrup. "You’re awake. It’s time to change your IV and take your vitamins."

Oliver watched her suspiciously. His gambling instincts flared. Something was wrong with this woman. The smell in the room changed the moment she entered. The antiseptic was masked by the smell of... wet earth? The scent of copper?

The smell of blood.

"Who are you?" Oliver asked harshly. "Where’s my usual nurse? The fat one, Mary?"

The nurse smiled wide. Too wide. The corners of her mouth nearly touched her ears. "Mary is resting. I’m her replacement for tonight. My name is Bella."

As Bella approached the side of the bed, the red holographic screen in Oliver’s eyes suddenly flashed aggressively. The system’s voice returned, its tone no longer flat but urgent. Like a hazard alarm.

[Proximity Warning!]

[Non-Human Entity Detected.]

A new text box appeared directly above the beautiful nurse’s head. A tag, like something out of a video game.

[TARGET: LOW-LEVEL GHOUL (DISGUISED)]

[THREAT LEVEL: E]

[TIME VALUE: +24 HOURS]

Oliver gasped. He blinked several times, making sure he hadn't misread it.

A Ghoul? A corpse-eating ghost? And... plus twenty-four hours?

"Why are you looking at me like that, sir?" Bella asked. Her hand, holding the syringe, moved toward Oliver’s neck rather than the IV line.

Oliver saw the nurse’s nails. Beneath the clear polish, her nails were black and sharp, like an animal’s claws.

"You..." Oliver swallowed, his mind racing. The system gave him a target. The system gave him a reward. If I kill her... I get more time?

"You’re not a nurse," Oliver whispered. His hand reached secretly under the pillow, searching for anything he could use as a weapon. There was no gun. There was only a TV remote. Damn it.

Bella stopped smiling. Her pretty face shifted slightly, as if her skin were nothing more than a loose rubber mask. Her blue eyes turned a murky yellow with vertical pupils.

"And you..." Bella’s voice distorted into a low growl that made Oliver's blood turn to ice. "You smell delicious, old man. The fresh scent of death. Your heart, it sounds like a dinner bell."

Bella leaned over, her face only inches from Oliver’s. She sniffed his neck greedily.

"The doctor said you’d be dead by tomorrow or the next day," the Ghoul hissed, saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth. "It would be a waste for meat this expensive to be buried in the ground. I might as well taste it now, while it’s still warm."

Oliver’s heart hammered against his ribs.

[119:28:10]

Oliver had no weapon. His body was as weak as soggy crackers. And there was a cannibalistic monster ready to rip his throat out in the most secure VIP hospital room in Vegas.

It was ironic. Extremely ironic.

But in the midst of that fear, the corner of Oliver’s mouth quirked up. He saw an opening.

"Are you hungry, lady?" Oliver asked mockingly, even as his hand trembled around the TV remote. "That’s too bad. I’m tough. And I'll make sure you choke if you try to take a bite."

The Ghoul grinned, revealing rows of serrated, saw-like teeth. "We shall see."

[Tutorial Mission Begun: Survive or Die.]