[TWD x Resident Evil] — Chapter 584 - This One's No Tougher Than the Last

The Tyrant climbed out of the crater.

It had no concept of pain. Its mind held only one thing: Leon's direct-strike command.

This was the true terror of controlling a mutant.

Even knowing it couldn't win a head-on fight, Leon's orders were the highest directive, it would keep executing regardless.

It opened its mouth and unleashed a deep, rumbling roar. Muscles swelled violently. Then it took crushingly heavy steps, like an Armored Vehicle at full sprint, and barreled straight into Leon.

Leon had no intention of giving ground.

He bent his legs slightly and exploded forward.

Two bodies, one massive, one comparatively small, collided squarely in the center of the yard.

A pure, absolute clash of raw physical force.

Leon's shoulder drove hard into the Tyrant's chest.

CRACK!

The sound of shattering bone rang out with brutal clarity.

The tough, specialized bone plate armoring the Tyrant's chest cavity, that single charge from Leon smashed it into a sprawling web of cracks.

The enormous body couldn't absorb that kinetic force. The Tyrant was sent flying backward again.

Its massive feet dragged across the ground for several meters, carving two deep furrows into the earth, and only stopped when it slammed into the brick wall at the back of the yard.

Half the wall collapsed outright.

Leon casually rolled his shoulder and shook out his wrist.

No pain at all. Not even the dull ache of tired muscles. This feeling of crushing, absolute superiority in raw power was genuinely addictive.

The boost from Solar Stairway was a leap across entire dimensions.

No wonder people said whoever ate Solar Stairway and survived could become a leader, greater strength, longer life. This had already left the realm of humanity entirely.

In the distance, the Tyrant swayed and steadied itself. A large section of the bone plate on its chest was shattered, its movements visibly sluggish.

But it was already preparing to charge again.

Leon simply raised his right hand.

"Stop."

The Tyrant dropped every aggressive posture instantly. Both arms fell to its sides. It stood in the rubble like an obedient post.

Claire's eyes went wide. She swallowed, then turned to Chris.

"Does he fight like this all the time?" She pointed toward the center of the yard.

Chris gave a rueful smile and shook his head.

"Maybe. Who knows — I haven't been here that long myself."

At the front of the crowd, Ada stood quietly.

Form-fitting tactical suit. Gaze fixed, unblinking, on Leon.

Leon's upper body was completely bare. The explosive burst of effort had raised a thin sheen of sweat across his skin.

Sunlight fell across the symmetrical, powerfully defined lines of his muscles, casting a sheen that radiated something raw and primal.

This wasn't the dead muscle pumped up in a gym with supplements. This was the ultimate physical form that emerged from perfect remodeling by a top-tier virus.

Ada's throat moved involuntarily. She actually swallowed.

She could maintain absolute composure in the face of anything, she always had. But in this moment, that purely masculine presence and unmatched raw power struck directly at the most primal impulse buried somewhere deep in her.

Her right hand rose on instinct. Her fingers spread slightly, reaching toward that chest with its sharply defined rises and falls.

She wanted to feel what kind of terrifying heat was stored beneath that skin.

Her fingertips were less than 2 centimeters away when Ada snapped back to herself.

The corner of her eye caught Claire and Jill standing nearby, both staring with wide eyes.

Rationality flooded back in an instant.

Ada's hand stopped dead in mid-air, then, with practiced ease, she pressed her palm flat against Leon's chest.

Patted it twice. Not too light, not too hard.

"You've got quite a bit of dust on you here." Her expression was flawless, her tone cool and composed as ever.

"You should go take a shower."

Leon looked down at his perfectly clean chest.

Then he looked at Ada's face, where just the faintest flush of color had taken hold.

He pulled up the corner of his mouth and smiled.

That cover was genuinely a little clumsy. But he didn't call her out on it.

"Is that it?" Leon flexed his wrist. His knuckles cracked.

"That big one couldn't take a hit at all. I couldn't even get a proper read on my own strength."

He looked into her eyes.

"Want to come spar with me?" He raised an eyebrow. "Just the two of us. Work up a real sweat."

The corner of Ada's eye twitched.

She looked back at the Tyrant, which still hadn't fully recovered, then turned back to Leon.

"You call this sparring?" A cold snort. "You just body-checked the Tyrant and sent it flying. And now you want to use me as a punching bag?"

She crossed her arms.

"Isn't that just straight-up bullying."

"I have zero interest in being smashed into the ground so deep they'd need a shovel to dig me out." She refused without hesitation.

Leon shrugged.

Fair enough.

With his current physical stats, if he couldn't fully hold back his strength — even the slightest graze — any ordinary person would end up dead or crippled. No question.

Just like those Spencer Mansion guards: a flick to the forehead, and what should have been a simple pop evolved into brains on the wall.

Leon was just about to call someone over to move the Tyrant away when an extremely arrogant voice rang out from the back of the crowd.

➤ Next: Ashley's Overflowing Confidence