The street shrouded by a massive shadow reeked of rot and death.
Amid broken walls and rubble, fragmented whispers echoed, like the reverberations of hell lingering through the ruins.
"It hurts... it hurts so much..."
"Mom... save me..."
"Shota... where are you... I miss you so much..."
"Heehee... big brother, come play with me..."
"It's so dark here... I'm scared... so scared..."
These voices were mixed with grotesque noises—like flesh writhing in mud, thick and heavy, as if countless rotting limbs pressed and tore against each other.
Beneath the ruins, two men huddled in the rubble, hands clamped desperately over their mouths, sweat streaking through the dust on their pale faces, eyes wide with terror.
Suddenly, a familiar voice drifted from the end of the street, eerily intimate: "Kun-ge... Kun-ge, don't leave me... where did you go... I'm so scared..."
Every hair on their bodies bristled. Their hearts nearly stopped.
They knew that voice. It belonged to a newcomer to the Main God Space—one with good potential, recently recruited into their team.
This was their first mission together.
Nevertheless, just ten minutes earlier, they had watched that youth swallowed whole by an unspeakable monster, flesh shredded, bones gone.
That voice could not be his!
Ten minutes earlier—
Inside a dim safehouse, three tense shoulders loosened slightly.
"This mission's zombie type—the rarest to encounter, however, the best for farming points."
Kun-ge, heavy gold chain at his neck, bit down on a cigarette and squinted out the window at the street now covered by a strange "cloud." "Our luck isn't so great though... the mission prompt mentioned special infected. Normal zombie hordes are nothing, but if it's mutants... that's trouble. Those viruses are hard to deal with."
He turned to the young man beside him, voice low. "Zhang, don't rush in. Stick close."
"Don't worry, Kun-ge!" the youth rubbed his hands eagerly. "I won't act tough, I won't drag the team down!"
Just then—
...rustle... squelch...
A faint sound outside the door.
Like something viscous slithering, or fat being squeezed.
Abruptly, when the wind blew, the noise vanished.
The three inside froze instantly.
Kun-ge's hand slid silently to the knife at his waist. Another teammate's fingertips glowed faintly with energy. Veterans who had survived three missions missed nothing.
Even Zhang, a rookie, instinctively gripped his dagger, throat working as he swallowed.
Then—knocking. Heavy, urgent. Like a fist pounding their hearts.
"I'm back, hurry and open up!" A rough voice called. Familiar enough to ease them.
"It's Wang-ge." Zhang exhaled, smiling with relief, hurrying to the door.
Kun-ge relaxed slightly, but frowned at Zhang's lack of caution. In a zombie world, the voice outside could be trusted.
However, if this were a horror world, voices could not.
His voice dropped. "Zhang, stay alert!"
"Got it, Kun-ge!" Zhang waved him off. "It's obviously Wang-ge's—"
The lock clicked. The door creaked open. Zhang's words cut off, his pupils contracting sharply as if at something unspeakable.
"It was... Wang-ge's... v-voice..."
His once-light tone turned forced, trembling with fear.
A wave of stench swept in from the doorway.
Kun-ge and the other veteran tensed, weapons ready, but from their angle they couldn't see outside.
Something was wrong.
They saw Zhang's face blanching fast.
"Zhang, what's going on?" Kun-ge barked, unease seeping through.
"It was... Wang-ge's voice..."
Zhang's voice broke into sobs. He turned his head, pale face twisted into a rigid smile, distorted by terror and despair.
His body stepped back slowly—
The next second—
Countless rotting arms burst through the doorway, like sticky tendrils wrapping around him!
He didn't even scream before being dragged outside.
Silence...
Then—
Crunch, crack, crunch...
Chewing. Bones snapping, swallowed by wet gulps, as though countless mouths tore him apart.
"—!"
The two remaining men froze, eyes wide, hairs standing on end, staring at the door.
"Run!"
...
"Heh... heehee, Kun-ge, I found you..."
The voice drew nearer, laced with chilling laughter, like whispers forced from a throat.
The sound of writhing flesh grew louder, sticky scraping closer and closer, until it echoed overhead.
The two men's nerves strained to the limit, pupils blown wide, breath ragged.
"Run!"
One roared. Both burst from the rubble, sprinting with everything they had, shoes slipping on bloody dirt.
One dared a glance back—and nearly collapsed.
"Wh-why... what is that monster?!"
Behind them, a shadow twenty stories tall crept closer, a nightmare alive.
It wasn't a monster. It was a mountain of corpses, rotting flesh and broken bones writhing in the sun, stinking foul.
Countless limbs fused and twisted, slowly forming a gaping mouth. Its corners curved upward, a mocking grin, a hungry sneer.
Atop the corpse mountain, every half-formed mouth whispered, voices blending into a chorus of despair:
"It hurts... it hurts..."
"Kun-ge... wait for me... don't leave me..."
...
Drawing nearer, finally reaching Tokonosu City, Zeroy saw the shapes writhing between the skyscrapers.
She dispelled H.A.M.P, landing with Patchouli atop a high-rise. Together they looked down.
They were mountains of corpses. Smiling mountains of corpses.
Each mouth atop them whispered with voices of the dead.
"Such abomination..."
Patchouli's face hardened.
Even Zeroy was shaken.
"What the hell... what even is that? Is this something out of Resident Evil?"
...
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