The night finally passed.
Light penetrated into Vincent's room.
Yet he still sat on the floor, curled up in a dark corner, hugging his knees.
The new day didn't bring hope. It only brought disaster and decay.
The world rotted.
And worst of all, Vincent felt his soul tainted. As if he himself started rotting.
The question still loomed over his head.
Will he have to consume human flesh again?
'There is no other way,'
He couldn't think of a solution. And deep down, he knew there was none.
"Ughh…"
His stomach turned upside down.
Nausea assaulted him at just the thought of consuming human flesh.
'No,' His eyes widened. 'Maybe there is a way…A way to avoid harming anyone.'
A realization befell.
'I can consume rotting flesh,'
In this new world, there was no lack of rotting corpses. Death was uncommon.
'It should work, right?'
Vincent's heart beat spiked. And a fire ignited in his eyes.
The rotting flesh didn't make it any easier to consume. And it wouldn't cleanse his conscience, but it won't weigh on his soul as much.
After all, he wouldn't have to hurt anyone himself.
'And I already know how to get it,'
A perfect plan formed in his head.
'I can just order the demon hound to search for a rotting corpse and bring me its flesh.'
In this way, he wouldn't even need to leave the base and risk his life.
…
Before the hospital.
"It's finally time to change shifts."
The older guard sighed in relief as he removed his night vision goggles.
The sun slowly rose, and with it, a huge weight fell off their hearts.
"Thankfully, nothing happened."
The younger guard nodded.
"It would've been perfect if Sir Vincent didn't give us a scare, but…"
The older guard started complaining.
But the glass door of the hospital opened, interrupting him.
Two middle-aged men walked out, their expression serious.
"I heard you got quite a scare last night."
One of the men said jokingly.
The older guard rolled his eyes.
"Don't mention, my heart almost jumped out of my chest."
The younger and older guards gave the spears and the night-vision goggles to the two men.
The younger guard stepped aside while the older dramatized last night's encounter.
Minutes passed.
Boredom assaulted the younger guard.
'That demon, Sir Vincent, came on…'
He looked around, his eyes landing in the direction the zombified tentacle demon went.
'It was terrifying.'
The young guard looked at his palm, torn up, full of blisters from holding the metal spear.
'And sir Vincent took down something like that?
'If I encounter one…Can I survive?'
Fear shrouded his heart. Fear of his own weakness.
He looked at the burning horizon.
Swoosh!
His face tightened, brows furrowed.
"What's that?!"
He exclaimed.
The air tensed up.
Everyone followed the direction of his finger. The horizon.
Figures appeared.
Human figures.
The new guards tightened the grip on the spears, preparing for a fight.
One had ordinary goggles on his waist.
"That's…"
His body relaxed, but his face froze in disbelief.
"It's Sir Gerold and Liam, led by young Sir Kai. They are injured!"
He exclaimed.
"Immediately notify the base."
"I'll go…"
The older guard shouted hastily, stumbling backward.
He gave no one else a chance and stormed inside to "report".
The guards rushed forward.
"SIR GEROLD!"
They shouted as they approached.
Kai walked to the front, licking a rainbow-colored lollipop.
But behind him, Gerold walked weakly, supported by the tall, slim Liam.
"It's fine…"
Gerold muttered weakly, glancing at the guards.
"But sir, your arm…"
Blood-stained bandages covered his arm.
No, what remained of it, for below the elbow, one could only call it a lump.
Gerold had lost his arm.
"Gerold, I'll go ahead…"
Kai waved his tiny hand, not stopping, uninterested.
He didn't even look back.
"You!"
Anger flashed in Liam's eyes.
But Gerold shook his head.
"Thank you, Kai,"
But the distancing figure of Kai only shrugged.
"It was nothing really,"
From start to finish, Kai never glanced at them.
He only walked away.
As if what was life-threatening for them was only a walk in the park for him.
"That fuc.king brat!!" Liam's teeth creaked.
But they could do nothing to him.
"Let's go inside…"
Gerold resumed walking.
The guards recovered from their shock and helped him into the hospital.
…
Bang! Bang!
A loud banging rang on the door.
Vincent raised his head.
"Sir Vincent, are you inside?"
A panicked and hasty voice rang from behind the door.
"What is it?!"
Vincent gritted his teeth but managed to suppress his anger.
"Sir Gerold returned…"
The voice hesitated.
An unsettling silence settled in.
'No…'
A bad feeling arose in Vincent's stomach.
"Their group got annihilated. He barely made it back alive."
Swoosh!
The door swung open.
"Lead the way!"
Vincent exclaimed, his expression nothing but grim.
…
They moved through the corridors.
Vincent walked before the man.
He didn't need him as a guide, for he could hear panicked chatter from below.
He went down the stairs, heading to the ground floor.
'Just what happened?'
His throat tightened, and saliva wouldn't go down. As if he had a stone stuck.
'Just what the he.ll happened?!'
He arrived at the ground floor.
Near the end of the corridor, a crowd had gathered.
More than thirty survivors.
And more were gathering by the moment.
Swoosh!
Vincent stormed.
His heart raced for a dreadful question lingered in his mind.
Was it his fault?
"Make way! Make Way!"
He roared, pushing aside the survivors blocking his path.
Boom!
He broke the door open.
"Noo…"
His eyes trembled in terror.
Involuntarily, he stepped back.
His heart sank.
The image carved itself into his mind.
The image of Gerold sitting on a bed, his arm missing, his eyes hopeless, his spirit crushed.
"Gasp!"
"It's Sir Gerold!"
Shocked gasps rang outside as the survivors before the door caught a glance at Gerold.
It broke Vincent out of his shock.
His face wrinkled up, and eyes turned murderous.
"SCRAM!"
BOOM!
He slammed the door.
"Gerold, what happened?"
Vincent turned back towards Gerold, his expression softening and tears welling in his eyes.
Gerold looked up.
His mouth opened, but no words left.
He only shook his head and lowered it again.
Vincent looked to the side at Liam, but he avoided his gaze.
Livia sat to the side, but she only shook her head. She herself didn't know.
"Gerold…say something."
Vincent's voice trembled.
"Was…Was it my fault?"
"Sighh…"
A sight escaped Gerold's lips.
A smile curled up his face, a self-mocking smile.
"Truly, I wonder…"
His eyes trembled as he stared at the ceiling.
"Whose fault is it? Just who is at fault for the curse on this world?"
Silence descended.
No one understood what he spoke of, nor did anyone have anything to say.
The minutes felt like an eternity.
"It was not your fault, Vincent…"
Finally, he broke the silence.
"If anything, it was my fault…"