The monster squinted against the glare of the flashlight, shielding its eyes with its thick arms while letting out a guttural snarl.
"What… what the hell is that thing!?"
Not far away, Fujishima's voice shook. His hands trembled so badly he could hardly grip his weapon. If his hair hadn't been greasy from days without washing, it would have been standing on end.
So it really is one of them… Sosuke Kitahara narrowed his eyes.
Aside from the thick fur covering its body, the creature's form was eerily similar to the Lickers a name Kitahara himself had given them. Their threat level sat somewhere between a first- and second-tier zombie.
From what intel he had gathered, Lickers were born from humans who devoured zombie flesh and mutated as a result.
After the world collapsed, Lickers became disturbingly common. Though every survivor camp ordered strict bans on consuming zombie meat, there were always those who couldn't awaken powers on their own. Desperate, they gambled with their lives, thinking eating infected flesh would spark evolution.
Almost all failed.
"I'm already close to the second tier," Kitahara muttered, tightening his grip on the blade. "Your corpse will be my stepping stone."
Those who knew him noticed immediately something had changed in Kitahara. Especially Haruno Yukinoshita, Yukino Yukinoshita, and Utaha Kasumigaoka, who had trained in breathing techniques. They felt it clearly: a mysterious pull stirring within them, their own breathing methods activating on their own.
"Move! Everyone get outside!"
Kitahara's shout jolted the stunned survivors back to life. Fujishima snapped to attention, using his authority to push people into order.
Bang!
At that moment, Kitahara flicked off the flashlight. He didn't draw his blade yet instead, he whipped out his pistol and fired.
The bullet tore through the air, striking the Licker just above its right eye. Flesh burst, but the creature barely faltered. With a roar, it pressed forward, unfazed, its head jerking only slightly from the impact.
It scuttled along the ceiling like a gecko, its hulking frame moving with terrifying speed, the pressure of its charge like a runaway bulldozer bearing down.
Bang!
Another shot. This time the round slammed into its chest, spraying blood but only fueling its frenzy.
The Licker wasn't mindless. It realized Kitahara's attacks weren't lethal. Its confidence surged. With reckless abandon, it hurled itself at him, claws outstretched.
Exactly as Kitahara wanted.
His blade flashed.
Sensing danger, the Licker twisted in midair, its jaws gaping wide. A massive tongue shot forth like a whip.
Shnk!
The katana severed it cleanly, the steel carving through flesh and then burying itself deep in the beast's shoulder.
Black blood sprayed. An arm spun away into the air.
The monster shrieked, half-human, half-animal, crashing into the wall near the main gate. It writhed, twitching violently, a pool of black ichor spreading beneath it.
To anyone else, it looked finished.
But Kitahara knew better.
Lickers weren't like ordinary zombies. Their bodies were stronger, their minds sharper. They could feign weakness play dead to lure prey closer.
So he didn't advance. He simply raised his pistol and fired two more rounds into its prone body.
Sure enough, the thing twisted unnaturally, dodging with its remaining limbs before launching itself at him again.
But this time, it didn't target Kitahara. Halfway through the charge, it veered sharply, sprinting up a support pillar, bursting through a third-floor window and straight into the panicked crowd outside.
"Damn it!" Kitahara cursed, sprinting after it.
The monster was cunning beneath its grotesque exterior. It had gauged Kitahara's danger and chosen easier prey the terrified, unarmed survivors.
Screams erupted. Heads rolled. Limbs scattered. Blood sprayed like grotesque confetti.
Chaos exploded again. People shoved, clawed, trampled, desperate to reach the factory floor.
Even Fujishima and Tsumura's shouts were drowned beneath the hysteria. No one listened.
For Haruno, Yukino, and Utaha, it was impossible to fire into the mess. Haruno's submachine gun couldn't be risked in such dense chaos. The others' pistols barked a few shots, all wasted.
Kitahara clenched his teeth, powerless. The frenzied mob became the monster's shield, their bodies blending with the night and masking its movements. He raised his pistol several times, then lowered it again. He wasn't a butcher he couldn't risk killing his own people.
"Help! Don't push me!"
A girl in pajamas was knocked down, trampled underfoot. Her delicate face drew no mercy as boots and elbows crushed her to the ground.
Iroha Isshiki.
Separated from Komachi Hikigaya and her brother in the chaos, she had been swept along with the crowd. Someone had yanked her back, then cruelly kicked her to the ground.
Her frail body couldn't rise. She curled in on herself, shielding her head, praying no one crushed her skull.
But survival was cruel.
As she struggled to lift her head, a black shadow dropped beside her. It slammed into an old man, pinning him down. Before he could even scream, his head was torn free and clutched to the monster's chest.
The Licker bit down with a wet crack, devouring him as if he were a walnut. Flesh and bone disappeared into its maw.
Then its crimson eyes turned on Isshiki.
Her heart leapt into her throat. She had seen zombies eat people before, thought herself numb. But the instant those glowing eyes fixed on her, her mind blanked. A sudden warmth spread down her legs.
She had wet herself.
The stench of rot and blood filled her nose. She wanted to close her eyes and die quickly, but her body was locked in terror. She could only stare as that foul maw drew closer, closer its severed tongue writhing like a snake in its mouth.
Whoosh!
A cold gust swept her face. A blade of steel punched through the Licker's skull, bursting out the other side. Black blood poured from the wound.
Then Crack!
A brutal kick twisted its head into an unnatural angle.
It was him.
Sosuke Kitahara.
Strength returned to Isshiki's body. She scrambled upright, tears in her eyes, staring at her savior. Kitahara, however, didn't even glance at her. His face was grim as he motioned for her to run.
"Watch out, Kitahara!"
Utaha shouted. Her pistol fired.
Isshiki's breath caught as the supposedly dead Licker slashed its claw toward Kitahara, faster than she could blink.
But Kitahara was faster. He sidestepped, the bullet from Utaha's gun tearing into its arm. The claws hissed past his face.
Steel flashed.
The katana carved clean through. The monster's head toppled free, black ichor spraying across the ground.
Isshiki collapsed, clutching her chest, gasping. At last, the beast lay still.
In the pale moonlight, her cheeks burned red. She could feel the dampness clinging to her, humiliation mixing with relief. Kitahara pulled her to her feet, guiding her back toward Haruno, Yukino, and Utaha.
But the factory was no safe haven.
The low growls of zombies echoed from all directions, surrounding the compound. Hundreds of them, maybe more.
"What's happening out there?" Kitahara demanded, spotting Utaha perched on a barrel, her sharp eyes scanning the dark.
She exhaled in relief when she saw him. "Kitahara you finished it off?"
"Yeah. It's done."
He raised a brow, studying her. "But your aim, Utaha… it's getting sharper."
She flushed faintly. "Is it? I thought I might've hit you instead…" Then she frowned. "But when I saw it move again, my body just… fired. Without thinking."
Before he could reply, Fujishima and Tsumura rushed over. Tsumura cursed loudly: "Damn it! So it wasn't Yohei turning! That monster must've followed them back and it dragged a whole damn horde with it! I saw from the roof at least a few hundred out there!"
Kitahara nodded grimly. "It has intelligence. But it usually hunts alone. Those zombies must've followed the scent of blood. Either way no time for talk. Count the survivors. Arm everyone. Get a team on the walls. Shut the building gates. If anyone's turning, we'll clear room by room at dawn."
Fujishima and Tsumura both nodded instantly. After what they had seen tonight, no one doubted him.
Kitahara's gaze fell on Yukino and Haruno. His voice lowered. "…Hayama is gone."
Yukino's expression softened, her eyes clouded. She shook her head slowly. "You don't need to say it. That was his fate."
Haruno sighed, looking briefly at the factory floor where Hayama's remains lay. "The world doesn't stop. People die, we keep moving. That's just how it is."
Her words were bitter, but not cruel. Survival left no room for mourning. Their parents still waited for them in Yamanashi they had to press on.
By morning, order was restored. The zombies still pressed outside, hundreds of them, but the walls held. With time, they could thin the horde.
"Finally… we survived," Fujishima muttered, slumping to the ground. He cast Kitahara a look of raw gratitude. "If it weren't for you… I don't know how we'd have beaten that thing."
"Yeah! Kitahara-senpai no, Kitahara boss!"
Voices rose in the crowd.
Mizuko frowned, hesitant, glancing toward her new boyfriend Fujishima. But to her surprise, Fujishima wasn't offended at all.
Instead, he stood tall and said firmly:
"Maybe it's time Kitahara became our leader. After everything he's done his strength, his judgment he's already proven he's the only one fit to lead this camp. What does everyone think?"
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