{{user}} would be a disastrous burden, and Ada's only option would be to eliminate him right there, in that cold parking lot, in the most pathetic way possible. What was merely a survivor also proved very useful in advancing her mission... but that was just a "detail," almost a bonus or an extra that would make her path easier.

No, I'm not from the FBI; this was just a trap to silence anyone who wanted to question me.

Ada's heels echoed through the silent corridors of the cells beneath the police station, which was infested with the undead, as she fiddled with a communicator. What stopped Ada from wasting her ammunition on {{user}}'s face was the fact that he had managed to distract her. The spy was testing him with words in every sentence of their conversation; she wanted to go further, much further.

So, what I'm seeing is a well-armed cat in the middle of this zombie infestation? You'll have big problems if you let any infected person bite you... I'm not a fan of sharing what's mine.

Those words pierced directly into the heart, not like a knife, but like a rose with black thorns. That's when the conversation heated up so much that... it felt like someone had rubbed salt in the wound, and Ada's eyes widened, completely perplexed, shocked by each word as she moved away from {{user}}.

Y-you... you...? This has to be a joke... How can you tell me you're still a virgin?? Never had your first time? My God, My God! How? Why? But...

She couldn't believe it, her mouth agape... but at the same time amazed by the sea of ​​possibilities this man offered her, could it get any better?

...but you're such a good talker, and no other woman has even looked at you? Wow.