Sweat was pouring down his face like an open faucet.
“Uh... well.”
Chief Hans hesitated for a moment before slowly rolling up his sleeve.
“I went outside earlier and... got bitten...”
“Damn it.”
It was only then that I noticed the horrifying state of his arm. A chunk of flesh was missing, exposing stark white bone. How could he not feel that?
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“That’s the thing. The pain... it’s not there. It feels... numb... Strange... isn’t it...”
Hans’s voice was slowing down.
“Something’s wrong.”
Nox, who had been silently observing, muttered under his breath. Sensing the tension, Ethan stepped closer to me.
“Sir Ethan. Is there anything here we can take that might be useful?”
Ethan looked at me as if questioning why I was asking something so random. Still pointing my axe at Chief Hans, I addressed Ethan without looking away.
“If there is, grab it now. We don’t have time.”
“There should be keys to the underground cells and some self-defense equipment.”
“Good. Pack them up.”
At that moment, blood began to drip from Hans’s nose. He wiped it with his thumb, then froze when he saw the red stain.
The symptoms of infection varied from person to person. For Hans, it seemed to be progressing slowly, and now there were signs of hemolysis.
I shouted at Ethan, who was hesitating awkwardly.
“What are you waiting for? Hurry!”
Ethan moved, albeit with slight hesitation.
Hans, meanwhile, seemed completely detached from our actions. He stared blankly at his bloodstained hand and mumbled.
“What’s happening to me...?”
I gasped as I saw the side of his face beginning to melt.
There was no other way to describe it—it was literally melting. His right cheek sagged, and his eyeball popped out, rolling across the floor.
I swallowed a scream and stumbled backward.
“Urgh...”
Hans groaned as he took a step toward me. Both of his arms were swelling, ballooning grotesquely.
“Sir Ethan.”
I couldn’t even look away as I called out to Ethan in a trembling voice, my eyes fixed on Hans as he transformed into one of the infected.
“Sir? Where are you?”
When I didn’t hear a response, panic started to set in. I called out again.
“I’m right here.”
His low voice rang out near my ear. My trembling hands steadied, and a wave of relief washed over me.
Ethan’s large hand rested on my shoulder, and he gently pulled me back.
“Slowly.”
He spoke to me like he was calming a frightened child. Step by step, we retreated, keeping our eyes on Hans.
We reached the side door of the station. According to Ethan, it led to the underground cells.
Hans’s swollen body had already torn through his uniform. Half of his melted face stared at us as he slurred his words.
“My body... feels strange... heavy... But you two... where are you going... without me?”
His distorted face contorted even more. When he opened his mouth, sharp, pointed teeth were visible.
His voice echoed strangely, as if several people were speaking at once.
I couldn’t move. My legs were frozen in place, paralyzed by fear.
“Don’t leave me... alone...!”
“GRAAHHHH!”
Ethan quickly shoved aside the desk blocking the back door. Then, he drew his sword and stepped in front of me.
“Watch out for the teeth! Don’t let him bite you!”
Ethan swung his sword with precision, slicing straight through Chief Hans’s torso.
Slash!
The sound was wet and sickening. Like a water balloon bursting, his flesh split open and exploded.
A green liquid, presumably the monster’s blood, sprayed everywhere like a fountain.
It was impossible to tell if Hans was completely dead since Ethan hadn’t aimed for the head.
The explosion seemed to attract more monsters outside. The noise of their approach grew louder.
Nox flung open the door to the underground cells and shouted at us.
“Hurry up!”
Ethan grabbed the dropped bag, slung it over his shoulder, and ran toward us. Together, we followed Nox through the side door.
Nox quickly shut the door and jammed a wooden stick through the handle to keep it sealed. I hoisted him onto my back like a sack of rice and hurried down the basement stairs.
The basement was dark and damp—practically a cave.
“Phew... Sinclair. While I do appreciate your help, could you please put me down now? At least consider my social status and dignity.”
Nox’s voice, practically begging, came from behind me.
Hearing the secondary male lead of a romance novel (though I wasn’t even sure it counted as one) pleading like this was oddly entertaining. Too bad carrying said male lead on my back wasn’t amusing at all.
“If you could handle yourself, I wouldn’t be doing this. Keep whining, and I swear I’ll throw you to the monsters out of respect for your dignity and social status. So shut up.”
Not that I could actually afford to throw away a precious doctor.
But if he didn’t stop complaining, I might seriously consider it. Fortunately, Nox, as always, knew where the line was and didn’t cross it.
That’s why dealing with him was harder than dealing with Ethan. Nox was too damn hard to read.
“You two have been stuck together lately. Sinclair, you’ve changed. The star of high society has turned aggressive. Looks like Lancaster’s been a bad influence.”
Nox immediately turned his fire on Ethan instead of me.
Ethan, blindsided, scowled at him.
“What the hell did I do?”
Ignoring their bickering, I set Nox down and dropped the bag off my shoulder, rummaging through it for the lantern.
“Listen, Ludfisher. Be glad I didn’t leave you behind and shut the hell up already.”
“You’re the one who dragged along someone begging to be left behind. You’ve got no class, Sinclair. I’m hurt.”
I had to admit, he wasn’t wrong. He’d rather have died than let Ethan see him being carried like this, and yet I’d dragged him here anyway.
Still, I figured we had to cut Nox some slack. He was a doctor, weaker than the rest of us—a damn mascot, basically.
While half-listening to their back-and-forth, I kept digging through the bag.
“Oh, really? Good for you. I’d rather be rude than die trying to look cultured like you.”
“...Sinclair, if you hang around this brute too long, he’s going to rub off on you. We’re intellectuals. We need class.”
“Shit. Fuck. Where the hell are the matches?”
I cursed under my breath, rifling through the bag. There was no way in hell I was walking through an underground prison and morgue without light.
As I muttered angrily, I noticed Nox staring at me.
“...What?”
“Oh, I was just commenting on how elegant your language is, Sinclair.”
Nox grinned, his expression annoyingly pleasant.
Apparently, my inner thoughts had slipped out loud. But since when were “shit” and “fuck” considered elegant? Did he have a secret thing for foul mouths?
Ethan, meanwhile, was trembling with suppressed laughter. I had no idea what his problem was, but since Ethan being weird wasn’t anything new, I ignored him.
Finally, after more frantic digging, I found the matchbox. Once I lit the lantern, we were ready to move.
Ethan and I each carried a lantern and a weapon, flanking Nox to support him.
“Hey. Keep it down. You’re not the only ones here.”
A voice suddenly interrupted us.
It wasn’t Ethan. And it wasn’t Nox.
I swung my lantern toward the sound.
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Rows of prison bars lined the left side of the passage. Most of the cells were empty—except for one.
A middle-aged man stood pressed against the bars, staring at us.
“Civilians can’t just barge into underground cells like this. Do you even know what you’re doing?”
The man didn’t seem to have a clue about what was happening outside.
Not surprising, considering he’d been locked up down here.
Then it hit me—this was the same domestic abuser Ethan had humiliated with a whiskey glass before everything collapsed.
Ethan pulled a key from his pocket and tossed it toward the cell.
“Get out or don’t. I don’t care. But watch out—there are monsters everywhere.”
I muttered under my breath as I looked at the prison bars.
“He’s probably safer staying inside.”
But the clueless domestic abuser, who knew nothing about the situation, reached out for the bars without the slightest hesitation.