"Wh-What the hell is that…?"
The group froze, eyes locked on the strange vials in Ethan's hands. A creeping sense of dread slithered into their chests.
Trent's brows furrowed tightly. "Dorian… what are you holding? What the hell are you trying to do?"
Ethan's voice was cold, detached. "Instead of wasting your time building weapons, maybe you should start researching how to turn zombies back into humans."
The young men standing before him were all firstborn heirs of the city's most powerful families. He wondered—once they turned, would their elite parents choose to put them down… or try to save them?
"You… you're not Dorian at all!" Trent's eyes widened in realization. The tone, the posture—it all clicked.
But it was already too late.
Ethan hurled the vials with deadly precision. They shattered against their faces, splashing crimson liquid everywhere. The thick, red virus seeped into their eyes, their noses—invading their bodies in seconds.
