[TWD x Resident Evil] — Chapter 314 - The Brutal Governor

That smile was colder than a goddamn meat hook in a slaughterhouse.

Martinez's hand, gripping Milton's collar, froze in midair.

The color drained from his face at a visible speed.

That expression—like a mouse bragging to its buddy about stealing the cheese, only to turn around and find the cat crouched right behind it.

"Philip..."

Milton forced the name out with difficulty.

"What brings you here."

The Governor didn't speak.

He simply lifted his foot and sauntered in.

"Bang."

He swung the door shut behind him.

"I seem to have... interrupted your late-night heart-to-heart?" The Governor's tone was light, as if joking with two old friends.

But with every step he took forward, Martinez couldn't help but take a step back.

Until his back slammed solidly against the cold wall.

Nowhere left to retreat.

It's over.

Only those two words remained in Martinez's mind.

"No, no, Philip."

Milton hastily straightened his collar, trying to force a calm smile.

"Martinez was just... just having an overreaction to the recent stress. We were discussing how to soothe the residents' emotions."

What a fine excuse.

What a goddamn pathetic one.

"Is that so?"

The Governor walked over to Milton's lab bench.

He reached out his fingers and lightly picked up a blueprint stained with Walker tissue fluid, bringing it to his nose for a sniff.

"Stress."

The Governor smiled, then turned his head, his eyes locking dead onto Martinez.

"I'd say your stress seems greater than anyone else's, Martinez."

"Weren't you supposed to be helping me 'select' volunteers?"

"What, the list was too long, you got cross-eyed, so you came running to our great scientist here for a bit of academic advice?"

Martinez couldn't utter a single word.

Every muscle in his body was tensed, like a beast driven to the edge of a cliff, ready for one final desperate fight.

The next second.

The Governor moved.

Without any warning.

The blueprint in his hand was still drifting in the air.

"BAM—!"

A devastating right hook slammed squarely into Martinez's jaw.

"Crack!"

That was the sound of bone shattering.

Milton shuddered all over, and the tweezers in his hand clattered to the floor.

Martinez's brawny body flew sideways like a thrown sack of garbage, crashing hard into the bookshelf in the corner.

Splinters and books rained down all over him.

Before he could even cry out, the Governor was already on him, one foot stomping on his chest, pinning him ruthlessly to the ground.

"Traitor."

The Governor bent down, squeezing the word out through clenched teeth.

He grabbed Martinez by the hair, yanked up his face,now spurting blood from the nose and mouth—and threw another punch.

"Bang!"

Plasma mixed with teeth traced a shrill arc through the air.

Warm blood splattered onto Milton's glasses.

Milton's world instantly turned scarlet.

He stood frozen, watching the man who was usually refined and courteous, who would even discuss Shakespeare with him, now raging like a rabid beast, beating his most capable subordinate like a sandbag, over and over.

"I gave you power! I gave you food! I let you live like a human being!"

"Bang!" Another punch.

"And this is how you fucking repay me?!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The Governor had gone completely insane.

He straddled Martinez, swinging left and right, every punch thrown with full force.

At first, Martinez tried to block, but soon his arms went limp, and he could only let out unconscious whimpers.

Milton's stomach churned violently.

He wanted to close his eyes, to turn away, but his feet felt nailed to the floor, unable to move.

He could only watch helplessly as Martinez's face gradually blurred under the Governor's fists, turning into an unrecognizable mass of mangled flesh.

He watched the blood soak into the floorboards, watched those research blueprints he had painstakingly drawn become stained a shocking, ghastly red.

Order... requires sacrifice...

Milton's mind repeated this phrase manically.

This is the price.

Yes, this is the price a traitor must pay.

Philip is maintaining Woodbury's stability.

He is protecting all of us.

Milton searched for excuse after excuse in his heart for the Governor's brutality.

As if only by doing so could he convince himself that this hellish scene before him was reasonable, and necessary.

Finally, the Governor stopped.

He panted heavily, his chest heaving violently, the sweat on his forehead mingling with the blood spots on his face, trickling down the contours of his cheek.

He stood up and nudged the puddle of pulp on the ground,no longer recognizable as human, with the toe of his boot.

Martinez let out a faint groan, proof that he was still alive.

The Governor turned around and looked at Milton.

Those eyes no longer held any pretense of warmth, only the most naked brutality.

Milton felt his legs going weak.

"Hah, Milton."

The Governor's voice was hoarse, like a beast that had just gorged itself.

"You'll help me."

"Won't you?"

It wasn't a question.

It was a statement.

A statement written in blood and violence.

Milton's mind went completely blank.

He thought of that afternoon when the Governor had saved him, thought of the days and nights they had built Woodbury together, thought of the last trace of tenderness in the Governor's eyes when he looked at Penny.

Then, he saw the twitching mass of blood and flesh on the floor again.

He nodded with difficulty.

That single motion seemed to drain every ounce of strength from his body.

"Good." The Governor smiled.

He walked up to Milton, extended the hand covered in Martinez's blood, and gently patted Milton's cheek, leaving a glaring smear of blood on his face.

"I knew it. You would never betray me."

The Governor's tone had returned to that false gentleness, as if the raging madman from moments ago wasn't him at all.

"As for him..."

The Governor glanced back at the half-dead Martinez on the floor, and a cruel smirk curled at the corner of his mouth.

"I'll let you see what happens to traitors."

The Governor bared his teeth.

"I'll chop him into pieces, and feed him to Penny, piece by piece."

With that, he paid no more attention to Milton, who was on the verge of collapse.

He bent down, and like dragging a dead dog, grabbed one of Martinez's legs and hauled him out of the pile of shattered books.

Martinez's head bumped and scraped along the floor, leaving a broken, intermittent trail of blood.

At the moment he was dragged out the laboratory door, his one un-smashed eye happened to meet Milton's gaze.

There was no hatred in that look, no anger.

Only a heart-wrenching plea.

Save me.

Milton understood it.

"Bang!"

The heavy wooden door slammed shut again, cutting off that desperate gaze.

From the hallway came the rustling sound of Martinez's body scraping against the floor as he was dragged, and the Governor's heavy, rhythmic footsteps.

The sound grew farther and farther away, until it vanished completely.

Deathly silence inside the laboratory.

Only the oil lamp still crackled and burned, casting Milton's ashen face in flickering light and shadow.

He slowly lowered his head and looked at his own hands, trembling violently from fear.

Then, his gaze fell upon the table.

On that research blueprint about Walker neural reflexes, Martinez's blood had already seeped in, completely smearing all the formulas and data.

What on earth was he supposed to do?

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➤ Next: Milton's Choice — Heartbreak