Global Survival: I Got the D-Rank Personnel Simulator

After handing over the blood-corpse’s mutation organ, Lin Ye returned to his room door. The door had been pushed open by the blood-corpse, revealing an open room with a red wooden chest inside.

Opening the chest, he found a blood-red straight longsword inside. The blade was about one meter long, completely straight without a guard. Though called a longsword, it looked more like a single-edged sword.

The hilt was pure black, and there was no sheath.

”Wow, perfect. I just needed a longer weapon.”

Lin Ye carefully gripped the hilt and picked it up from the ground. The red sword wasn’t too heavy nor too light—just the right weight for use.

The treasure chest contained only this one item, likely due to the Cat Tail Charm’s effect.

Lin Ye tested the red sword on a blood-corpse. The blade sliced through the creature’s flesh effortlessly, encountering minimal resistance.

After dismembering the blood-corpse, Lin Ye continued exploring the red maze. With this weapon, he was confident he could upgrade the Shelter today—as long as he found enough blood-corpses.

While happily exploring, Lin Ye came across another red room with its door wide open.

He cautiously peeked inside.What he saw made him instinctively take a step back.

The scene inside was hard to describe, but if forced to summarize in two words:

A nest.

A nest of flesh and blood.

The floor, walls, ceiling—every surface of the room was coated with squirming flesh, with various remains fused together into some new abomination.

The most prominent was a disassembled man, his parts scattered and merged with other things throughout the room.

’What the hell is this?!’

Even battle-hardened Lin Ye was shocked by the sight. This was something abnormal, beyond reason.

Before he could react further, the monstrosity noticed him and attacked first.

The entire hallway shook as masses of flesh surged out from the room, roaring as they lunged at Lin Ye.

Lin Ye turned and ran. This thing was beyond his ability to handle in every way.

”Don’t run!”

”Help me!”

”Have you eaten?”

”Hello...”

Various voices emerged from the flesh, the loudest being the man’s severed head, still screaming for help despite only being connected by a few strands of meat.

Lin Ye couldn’t save it—he was the one who wanted to scream for help.

The monster wasn’t fast, but it wasn’t slow either. Lin Ye could outrun it at full speed, but he couldn’t maintain that pace forever. At most, he had a few minutes before exhaustion set in.

If the monster caught him, he’d be the one getting dismembered next.

Lin Ye tried putting distance between them, but even half a hallway away and out of sight, the creature kept chasing relentlessly, clearly intent on finishing him.

He could hide in a room, but that would trap him with no escape—if the monster blocked the door, he’d be done for.

So he had no choice but to keep running, hoping to find an exit.

After thirty seconds, Lin Ye slowed down. He could push further, but soon he’d be too exhausted to fight back.

He took out the Cross Necklace from his backpack and put it on. He didn’t know if it had side effects, but right now he desperately needed enhanced perception to identify the monster’s mutation points.

The moment the necklace touched his skin, Lin Ye’s mind blanked. A flood of sensory information—things he’d never noticed before—overwhelmed his brain. For that instant, he felt like he’d ascended dimensions, transitioning from lower to higher existence.

The sensation lasted only briefly before fading, leaving him wondering if it had been an illusion.

Yet a faint trace remained. Drawing on his past simulation experience, Lin Ye managed to reactivate a sliver of that heightened perception.

He could feel his body in violent motion—taut muscles, pounding heart, sparking neurons.

His life was burning fiercely, but compared to the molten fury chasing him, it was insignificant.

If Lin Ye was a burning torch, the monster was flowing lava—fundamentally different entities.

Lin Ye slowed further, letting the creature close the gap for better perception.

Since escape was impossible, he had to find a way to kill it.

From what he sensed, a direct fight was hopeless.

His only chance lay in ten bullets—only by hitting the monster’s weak points could he survive.

Lin Ye pretended to weaken, allowing the distance to shrink—20 meters... 15... 10... 9...

At 8 meters, the monster suddenly paused. Then—

Whoosh whoosh whoosh!

Lin Ye sensed danger before the sounds came. He threw himself forward, sliding around the hallway corner as flesh projectiles slammed into the wall behind him, leaving bloody craters.

Had he been slower or lacked perception, those shots would have torn him apart.

After rounding the corner, Lin Ye didn’t keep running. Instead, he pressed against the inner wall, drew his pistol, and waited.

They were too close now—continuing to flee meant either getting shot or caught and dismembered.

This corner was his only chance.

Lin Ye closed his eyes, perception spreading like invisible tendrils. Time stretched infinitely.

4 meters.

He raised both guns, muzzles tracking the wall, following the monster’s energy concentrations.

3 meters.

Two primary points. Four secondary.

2 meters.

Ten bullets—two for each primary, one for secondaries, two in reserve.

1 meter.

Muzzles would need to shift twice, using recoil for adjustment.

Fire!

As the monster turned the corner, Lin Ye’s eyes snapped open—pupils contracted to pinpricks, fingers spasming as bullets punched into flesh like awls.

Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang!

Muzzles less than 20cm from target—no chance to miss.

Lin Ye was already moving before the last shot, retreating while firing two final rounds.

Bang! Bang!

These shots weren’t planned—he just felt they’d help disrupt the monster’s balance.

The effect exceeded expectations. The creature, about to attack, collapsed after those last two hits.

It thrashed weakly on the ground, unable to rise.

Lin Ye watched from a distance until all movement ceased. After ten more minutes confirming its death through perception, he approached.

Then—

Darkness.

A spike of pain through his skull.

His stomach convulsed, sending half-digested food and acid surging up his throat.

”Cough! Damn it!”

Lin Ye collapsed retching, vomiting until empty.

But the darkness remained, the cranial pain worsening.

Frantic, he tore off the Cross Necklace. As the enhanced senses faded, so did the agony—leaving only the aftermath of battle.