Greed  

As Arnold lost consciousness and fell limp, he managed to subconsciously instruct Lynn.

"Medicine can save... He was... bitten by a zombie..."

Arnold's words were cut short, but everyone had already guessed that Clark was definitely infected. Speculation and confirmation were two different things. Everyone stared at Clark in Lynn's arms, many with fearful and hesitant expressions, not daring to get close.

Craig, with a worried expression, quickly brought a glass of water and crouched beside Lynn.

"Hurry, listen to Arnold, feed him the medicine!"

Craig's voice was anxious, and he didn't seem to be acting. While feeding Clark the medicine, Craig discreetly touched Clark's right hand that hung down. Unnoticed by anyone, his heart raced, and his eyes widened in shock.

"Ding, Epic Equipment [Soul Devouring Hand] has been bound. It will drop upon the target's death."

"Ding, Apocalypse-level Equipment [Judgment Ring] (Spatial Ring) has been bound. It will drop upon the target's death."

Craig's pupils dilated sharply, and his heart raced. Overwhelming greed surged within him, and he struggled to suppress the urge to snatch away the equipment. Unlike the other people who still had little knowledge of the Apocalypse Game, Craig's intelligence was not to be underestimated. He enjoyed playing games and reading novels on normal days, and his understanding of the Apocalypse Game far exceeded that of the middle-aged group.

Upon his first contact with ordinary items, Craig had keenly noticed the existence of equipment. As it wasn't considered a concealed piece of information, he was aware of the equipment's levels. To think that they were Epic and Apocalypse-level equipment!

Craig may not have seen the item attributes, but he knew how exaggerated the attributes of such equipment could be. Watching Lynn cradle Clark, he couldn't help but feel jealous.

"Why should you, another player, have powerful equipment and strength, along with a beauty by your side? While I can only run like a dog in front of zombies!"

Kill him! Kill Clark! Snatch the equipment! A surge of murderous intent filled Craig, and he reluctantly moved his hand away from the ring, his breathing becoming rapid. Once I have that equipment, I will have the power too!

Furthermore, Craig stood up, surreptitiously eying Lynn's chest. Lynn was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and hot pants, showcasing her well-toned figure. Her excellent fitness regime had given her a curvy, athletic body, and her ponytail added a youthful charm to her appearance. As a former Literature major's beauty queen at H University, Lynn's looks were beyond impressive.

Craig couldn't help but recall Zoe, who had died on the 8th floor, causing frustration to well up within him. Comparing his former "girlfriend" to Lynn was like night and day. Zoe's resentful gaze before her death haunted him, waking him from nightmares every night.

"Kill Clark. Not only will his power be mine, but his woman will be too."

Craig couldn't help but fantasize about the power he would wield once he had the equipment, and he also thought about how the seemingly cold Lynn would respond to him. When was the best time to win a woman over? When she was helpless! He was confident that this move never failed.

"Lynn, you don't have to worry too much about Clark..."

As Craig casually tried to comfort Lynn and moved his right hand toward her shoulder to offer reassurance, he found himself abruptly facing a menacing axe blade. Lynn aimed the axe in his direction, her expression ice-cold and her eyes alert.

"You don't need to concern yourself with me. Stay away."

Craig forced an awkward smile, spreading his hands to indicate that he had no ulterior motives.

"Damn it, you bitch. I'm going to bed you one way or another."

Craig cursed Lynn in his heart, then turned around and left, sighing as if he were disheartened.

..........

2nd floor, Room 204.

Lynn silently watched over Clark, who remained unconscious. It had been four days since Arnold had returned with Clark, and neither of them showed any signs of waking up. Her uncle and Charles were comforting the crying Marlene nearby.

At the door of the room, a few middle-aged individuals held half-empty water bottles and leftover biscuits, looking somewhat disgruntled. The survivors in the hotel were no longer as polite as they had been.

"Either tie that guy up with chains or we'll lock the door."

"We don't have much water or food left. Either you take it or go hungry."

Arnold's uncle turned pale with anger at their words. The rations had been dwindling day by day, and now these people wanted to chain up Arnold and Clark?

"You... you're going too far!"

The people outside held chains for locking the door, and some even brought over the chains they had previously used for their dogs. 

"Yeah, he hasn't woken up yet. He might turn into a zombie any moment! Why waste food?"

One of them voiced their displeasure, rattling the dog chain in their hand. The longer it took, the more anxious they became.

On Lynn and Arnold's side, they persisted in forcefully administering a large amount of medication to Clark.

In their eyes, Clark hadn't turned into a zombie temporarily, but it wouldn't last long. Maybe some medication had a temporary effect, or perhaps it was the strong constitution of an Awakened that temporarily suppressed the virus. After all, if the medicine was effective, why hadn't he woken up by now? The girl with the bandages they brought back had already woken up! Who knew if Clark would turn into a zombie in the next moment.

"I don't think we should have let him come up in the first place!"

"He's making us so uneasy; I haven't had a good night's sleep in two days!"

An older middle-aged woman stood behind the crowd, hands on her hips, and loudly said, "We don't owe him anything! It's not like he killed zombies for us!"

"Yeah, he just did it on a whim. He didn't really come to save us."

With Clark and Arnold remaining unconscious and without the deterrence of their strength, the people no longer feared them. The more people gathered, the more they came to their senses. Many even suggested throwing them out of the building. After all, even if they were chained up, there would still be significant risks involved.

Lynn turned around, her gaze coldly fixed on the few individuals who had just entered. These people came almost every day to make a scene, but today it was more intense.

The crowd became more agitated under the influence of Augustus and his group, with many people brandishing steel pipes and axes, intending to forcefully remove Clark.

"Anyone who comes over will die."

Lynn lifted a fire axe from beside her, her frail frame contrasting sharply with the axe in her hand.

The crowd laughed scornfully.

"Little girl, can you even lift that axe?"

"I'll tell you, this is all we have to eat..."

A tattooed man emerged from the crowd, one of the few strong men in the hotel. Many people who had lost hope of relying on Clark chose to follow him, aligning themselves with Augustus's group.

"Is it a waste to feed these dying people?"

He took out a military energy bar from his pocket, crushed it, and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Damn, this stuff is really terrible."

Lynn's fingers on the axe handle turned white as she gripped it tightly.

The man had Clark's rations, which he had left for her before leaving. It seemed that all the food she had hidden in her room had been found and taken.

"Give me the food."

Clark was currently in a weak state, in a continuous state of unconsciousness. Lynn, unlike the others who believed that Clark was in a coma due to the fight against the zombie virus, had noticed something different.

On the first day, she and Craig had both encountered equipment from the system. She had been keenly aware that the black gloves on Clark's hands were siphoning off some kind of energy from him, which caused him to fall into a coma.

The gloves had crimson patterns on them, and they were only a little short of being completely filled.

Based on her deductions, Lynn believed that Clark was in a coma because the gloves had been draining his energy continuously, leaving him without enough energy to wake up.

"Whoever finds it, it's theirs! Want some? You can have it. Just have a good chat with me, big brother, and I can give you a bit more." The tattooed man wore a lecherous grin and appraised Lynn.

On the second day after Arnold's return, Augustus had teamed up with him to collect the hotel's food supplies. They distributed them as needed, but demand was high.

The tattooed man chuckled lightly but a hint of apprehension flashed in his eyes. If it weren't for the fear that Arnold might wake up and come after them, along with these people protecting him, he would have found a way to get Clark out.

"Lynn, my beautiful lady, why are you protecting someone who's about to die? Maybe the next second he'll turn into a zombie and eat you! Tsk tsk, I can't bear to see you being bitten to death by this guy. Why not come with me and enjoy the finer things in life?"

The tattooed man smirked suggestively and then intentionally or unintentionally adjusted himself.