Upon this realization, Eric couldn't help but curse, "Bastards!" It was evident that the institute had tampered with them during their unconscious state, transforming them into these grotesque figures.
"Aaargh!" A piercing scream echoed. Eric looked up to see another monkey—no, another human experiment—rushing into the enclosure through the suddenly opened entrance.
Now she could see more clearly: remnants of tattered clothing clung to its body. Eric glanced down at herself; her once intact tracksuit had been reduced to mere shreds, barely visible amidst her fur.
But there was no time to dwell on the shame of her nakedness. Eric took a deep breath, let out a roar, and charged forward.
If it came down to killing each other to survive, she was ready.
This adversary proved more formidable. As she drew closer, Eric was hit by the overwhelming stench of blood. Her opponent's fur and tattered garments were drenched in it, splattering with every movement, some even landing on her face as he bared his teeth and swung his fists.
Her pupils contracted involuntarily. Though she couldn't see the changes in her own body, she could feel the bloodlust igniting within her veins.
Once again, the urge to kill took hold of her mind.
By the time Eric came to her senses, the enclosure was awash with blood, some of which had already dried into dark, clotted masses.
"Hey, dinner's here!" Something was tossed in through the exit. Eric rubbed her eyes and focused—it was half a human body, the lower half, still clad in trousers.
She couldn't hold back the urge to vomit.
Though she refused to look at the mutilated corpse, Eric found herself consumed by a gnawing hunger, her eyes involuntarily drawn to the gruesome offering.
She slapped herself, then retreated to a corner, hugging her knees in a futile attempt to escape the grim reality.
In the observation room, a researcher nodded approvingly. "Number three's mutation seems to be progressing well; she still retains her humanity. Enlarge the feeds for numbers nine and eleven. Eleven appears to have fully regressed into a monkey. Let's push harder. Send in the already failed number nineteen. Our goal is to harness their ferocity while preserving their basic cognitive functions. Otherwise, all our effort in developing these weapons would be for naught if they become uncontrollable. The boss won't be pleased."
Eric didn't touch the corpse. Pretending to hug her knees, she secretly stuffed a piece of chocolate into her mouth. The sweet taste spread across her tongue, down her throat, and into her stomach, rekindling her human senses and suppressing the bloodlust. This brought her a semblance of peace. She feared the power that made her invincible; in those moments of overwhelming strength, she forgot everything. She was terrified that she might descend into a killing frenzy and never wake up.
Chewing the chocolate quietly, Eric forced herself to think.
She regretted stepping into the elevator that led to the laboratory, yet she knew all too well that to uncover the truth, she had to venture into the lion's den. Understanding the necessity didn't quell the regret that gnawed at her soul like a festering wound.
Let go of the regret. Even if you could turn back time, you'd still follow the crowd into this trap. It was inevitable!
Swallowing the last remnants of sweetness, Eric raised her eyes, staring fixedly at the gate.
Her ears twitched; seconds later, another "person" charged in, roaring with complete loss of reason. Eric felt a complex mix of emotions. Allowing herself to kill in a semi-lucid state felt like a tragic moral downfall, yet she was unwilling to fully shed her moral constraints. She didn't want to become a mindless beast like the others.
She swallowed, but no trace of chocolate remained in her mouth.
She stood up, clenched her teeth, and rushed forward.
She had no idea how many "people" she had fought to the death, or how much time had passed. In her occasional moments of clarity, her memories blurred, dominated only by the ever-thickening scent of blood. She could no longer recall the events that had transpired. Taking advantage of a brief moment of lucidity, she ate another piece of chocolate, only to be dragged back into the vortex of madness soon after.
She tried using a healing kit, which worked remarkably—all negative effects vanished from her body. However, this was followed by a violent backlash of mutation. She blacked out and woke up to find her mental state worse than before. It took her a long time to regain her senses and comprehend her situation.
After that, Eric didn't dare to try again. Instinctively, she felt that this carnage must have an end.
When she next regained consciousness, Eric found herself in a new place. Her heart sank as she took in her surroundings—she was in a coliseum, standing in the center, with identical "people" in cages all around her.
Only a few were observing their surroundings like her; most had already fully transformed into beasts.
"The light is above!"
A hoarse voice rang out. Eric's breath hitched.
She looked up at the central platform and saw, at its five-meter apex, a familiar white glow.
No staff were in sight when a man's voice boomed through the speakers above: "Open their cages. I'll only accept the first three specimens who reach the platform; the rest are to be eliminated. Hmph. It doesn't matter if some don't understand—those that can't comprehend are worthless. Those who do, make yourselves clear: I want only the top three! Now, unleash the cages!"
Instantly, every cage was flung open. The mindless specimens lunged at the nearest prey. Eric was assaulted simultaneously by two attackers. Drawing upon hard-earned experience, she sidestepped one strike, countered by grabbing and wrenching an arm, followed by a series of sharp elbow blows—one, two, three—and sent her assailant crashing to the ground. She pressed her knee firmly against his throat, eliciting a sickening crunch.
The blow was precise; he had no time to react.
This victory was forged from countless prior battles.
Eric flung the corpse aside; it collided with another specimen, momentarily hindering its assault…
Chaos erupted—ferocious scuffles everywhere, blood and flesh splattering, primal roars incessant.
Yet Eric's gaze fixated on a singular goal. No one would impede her.
Like the few other sane specimens, she aimed to repel oncoming attacks without initiating conflict, pouring every ounce of strength into charging toward the platform.
Someone reached the platform first. Eric was seized by another, who sank his teeth viciously into her calf. Agonizing pain tore through her as she screamed, glancing down to see a large chunk of flesh torn away. She had to quell this immediate threat; when she looked up again, a second specimen was climbing toward the platform's midsection.
The top three…
A scream rent the air as one contestant forcefully kicked another aside and sprinted swiftly toward the summit.
The surge of urgency sent Eric's blood boiling. Her eyes locked onto no one else. She wanted to live, to escape this nightmare! Echoing a primal yell of desperation and fury, she summoned every hidden reserve of power, hurtling forward with unparalleled speed and ferocity. All who barred her path or attacked her were ruthlessly cast aside.
In that moment, she felt herself slip into madness.
"Quick, record this! These specimens are of impressive quality!" the man's excited voice crackled over the broadcast.
As Eric neared the platform and the luminous halo hovered within reach, a pair of hands abruptly seized her fledgling tail, attempting to wrench her downward and gain leverage to climb higher.
Later, when Eric tried to dissect the moment her mindset irrevocably shifted, her memories offered little clarity. What she could recall was clutching the platform desperately with one hand while arching back toward her attacker, catching him off guard. With unnerving dexterity, she pulled from her pocket a razor blade pilfered from the supermarket and slashed fiercely at his throat, held steady between her fingers.
Her hand slick with blood, she seemed to feel the throbbing pulse of his severed vessel fading beneath her touch.
The tugging ceased. Without hesitation, Eric turned away and resumed climbing; the third specimen crossed into the halo.
Stepping into the radiant glow, she relinquished all strength and collapsed to the ground.
"Good heavens! Which dimension did this one return from? She looks utterly devolved!"
"She's a tragic sight. Which dimension harbored such cruelty that they emerged looking like this?"
"Sounds like the coliseum lab to me. I've heard this dimension is vile—that there's no recovery afterward, no cure even with treatment kits…"
Amidst the murmurs, Eric sat up silently and began to walk away. She needed to bathe, eat, and rest.
She needed those simple human comforts.
Upon exiting, numerous onlookers gathered, as they had for the two players who emerged before her.
"Wait—don't leave! I'd like to purchase intel on your dimension. How about a chat at the tavern?"
"I can offer three treatment kits…"
Though utterly exhausted, Eric found the strength to accept the next female player's invitation and proceeded to the tavern for business.
The woman ordered two servings of egg fried rice for her, smiling warmly: "This is my gift—not part of the transaction." Eric nodded and lowered her head to eat. She devoured one bowl swiftly and resolved to pack the other for later.
"Is that alright?" the player asked, momentarily surprised.
She consented without hesitation and recounted all she had endured within the dimension. The player couldn't help but rail: "This dimension is disgusting—no wonder none of you look human afterward… Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."
"It's okay," Eric replied. "Do you have any other questions?"
Looking at her with mild pity, the player inquired, "What will you do now? Can your condition be cured with treatment kits? I heard they don't work—that the symptoms only fade over time."
Eric shook her head. She had heard the same from others upon exiting. For now, her mind remained numb. After completing this transaction, she took five treatment kits back to her lodging, and upon entering, she immediately took a hot shower.
The bathing ritual forced her to confront the cruel reality of her bodily transformation, deepening her anguish.
Without further thought, Eric laid down and slept.
That day, she refrained from undertaking any dimensional missions. She simply wished to rest, to lose herself in deep, undisturbed slumber.