A groan echoed from the hallway—real, physical, and hungry. Márk realized with a sinking heart that he hadn't downloaded the game. The game had downloaded him.

He knew better. He knew that "free" usually meant a digital Trojan horse waiting to eat his hard drive. But Leon Kennedy was calling, and Márk’s wallet was empty. He clicked the button.

The glow of the monitor was the only light in Márk’s room as he stared at the sketchy website. the banner screamed in neon green.

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