At that moment, Skye’s instincts kicked in. Something was off. They had always treated the infected as mindless beasts—dangerous, but predictable. But this one was different. From the moment it appeared, there had been something strange about it.

  Skye's warning bells were still ringing in his mind when he suddenly felt something stir beneath his feet. Before he could react, a hissing sound filled the air. Yellow poisonous fog swirled up around them, quickly surrounding the team in a thick, suffocating cloud.

  “This is an awakening skill—hold your breath!” Skye shouted, his voice sharp with urgency.

  He was quick, jumping down from his perch, but the others weren’t so lucky. The fog spread like wildfire, thickening in the air, and before anyone could escape, it was already inside their lungs. Freya, the only other awakened one, fought to climb down the garbage mountain, but within moments, she collapsed, unconscious.

  One by one, the rest of the team staggered, then fell to the ground, limp and unresponsive like drunkards.

  Skye’s heart hammered as he fought to stay conscious. He gritted his teeth against the dizziness that clouded his mind. He barely noticed the fog lifting before his eyes fell on a horrifying sight.

  From the trash, a creature emerged, crawling on all fours, its body covered in shell-like barbs, its mouth stretching grotesquely to the roots of its ears. It glared at Skye with cold, yellow eyes—its gaze wasn’t one of bloodthirstiness, but of mockery, as if it was toying with them.

  Axel, still hidden on the roof nearby, froze. He had heard about the law enforcement had always been invincible in these kinds of situations, so how was it possible that this creature had taken down almost an entire team in one strike?

  This was no ordinary infected. Skye struggled to shake off the poison creeping through his system. His head was heavy, his body sluggish, but he drew his gun with his other hand, firing as fast as he could.

  "I've never seen anything like this," he muttered through clenched teeth. “How can it still use its awakening skills after being infected? And it's so... smart.”

  The file on Infected No. 2 had said it was a middle-grade first-level infected, but Skye had never expected this kind of resistance. Even though he was a high-grade first-level awakened, the poison fog had hit him hard. His vision blurred, and his movements were slow.

  *"I’m probably going to die today."*

  The infected’s barbed arm swung carelessly, smashing through a nearby brick wall. Axel’s stomach twisted. If one of those strikes hit him, it would shatter his skull in an instant.

  The gunshots echoed, and blood splattered across the infected’s monstrous form, but it didn’t slow it down. The bullets were like they were hitting clay, leaving only shallow dents in the creature’s thick, armored body.

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  Skye, already poisoned, was barely holding his ground. His steps were staggered, and his breathing ragged. He dropped his gun and drew a black, jagged blade from his waist. Close combat. That was his only choice now.

  Axel winced as he saw Skye fighting, injured, with his body slowing down. He was using his remaining strength to wound the infected, but at this rate, it was only a matter of time before Skye became another casualty.

  Blood poured from the captain’s wounds, staining his clothes and his vision with a haze of red. He was gasping for air, but his focus remained sharp. *If I run, I’ll survive. But my team won’t.*

  A wild, desperate idea took shape in Skye’s mind. His movements were becoming more sluggish, his endurance draining fast. He staggered, struggling to stay on his feet. That’s when the infected lunged. Its claws, sharp as knives, tore into his side, cutting through ribs like they were paper.

  Despite everything, despite the blood and the pain, Skye managed to smile—a crooked, blood-soaked smile.

  Skye gripped the infected’s arm with his left hand, his right hand stabbing the short blade into its body again and again. The infected, realizing that this was Skye’s last-ditch effort, tried to pull its arm free, hoping to tear it out of his body and leave Skye to die. But it couldn’t move its hand.

  Skye’s ribs, already pierced, seemed to solidify, turning pale as stone—**a body hardening awakening skill**—locking the infected’s arm in place like a vice.

  The infected roared in angry, its other hand swinging wildly, pounding Skye with all its might. But Skye, gritting his teeth, ignored the pain, grabbing the infected’s arm with one hand while stabbing relentlessly with the blade, carving bloody holes into its flesh.

  "Roar!" The infected howled, its body shuddering from the strikes.

  Axel and Annabelle, watching from their hidden spots, shocked. The violence before them was nothing like the cold, detached killings that had come before. This was raw, brutal, a battle between two beasts.

  But the poison was taking its toll. Skye’s movements were slowing. The infected's claws swiped at the short blade in his hand, knocking it out of his grip. The gun he had dropped earlier flew through the air, clattering against the wall of a nearby building before bouncing off a manhole cover and coming to a stop.

  Skye's vision began to darken, his strength slipping away. The hardening on his body faded, and he knew his time was running out. As his body weakened, the thoughts of the day earlier flickered in his mind—promising to keep the fleeing residents safe, to bring them back to this broken slum. He had promised them, and now…

  *I’m sorry...*

  He nearly closed his eyes, resigned to the end, when suddenly he noticed something. The expected fatal blow never came.

  *What?* Skye thought, confusion clouding his mind. Was the infected toying with him now? Did it want to watch his last moments?

  Half-dead and drenched in his own blood, Skye managed to raise his head, his weak eyes following the infected’s gaze. The creature wasn’t focused on him anymore, it was looking in the direction of the houses.

  Skye followed its line of sight, and his heart skipped a beat. Through the dim night, a thin figure stood, a gun gripped tightly in both hands, aimed directly at the infected’s head.

  This was the third time today he had seen that face.

  He didn’t know how the kid had gotten there, but all Skye could do, with his last breath, was try to warn him.

  “*Run!*” he managed to croak.

  *Bang. Bang. Bang.*

  The sound of the gunshots drowned out every other noise in Skye’s ears. In the chaos, Skye’s vision blurred. The last thing he saw was the boy’s nervous but unwavering gaze, and the infected, now a blur of motion, charging toward him.