Interlude
Before Alicia Muramasa appeared, weakened, in front of the group led by Komuro, she and her father had already begun their own hunt.
The objective was clear: to find the zombie that had mutated after devouring what it should never have eaten. A potential threat that, if not eliminated, would become a disaster beyond human comprehension in this world.
"I think we're following a trail that leads straight to him…" murmured Senji, his deep voice echoing as he moved through the undergrowth.
Alicia followed closely, clutching his right hand. Despite her childlike body, her gaze remained sharp, alert. She was also sharpening her senses, trying to catch even the faintest trace of that distorted presence.
The forest was dense, each step crunching against damp leaves and dry branches. The mist filtering through the trees seemed to wrap around them like a veil concealing dangers.
"Dad…" said Alicia softly, her brows furrowed. "You feel it too, right?"
Senji nodded.
"Yes. The air is too… heavy. As if what we're looking for doesn't just kill, but tries to leave its mark everywhere it goes."
Alicia let go of his hand to crouch down. Among the grass she found a fresh footprint: not the usual dragged, clumsy one of a walking corpse. It was deeper, firm, like that of someone who knew how to walk. Even more disturbing, the claw marks in the soil weren't random—they had scratched the ground as if trying to write something.
Alicia ran her fingers across the disturbed earth, her voice turning cold.
"He's learning."
Senji remained silent, studying the trail. Deep down, he knew his daughter was right. That thing wasn't just a zombie; it was becoming something else, something that shouldn't exist.
The wind blew through the trees, carrying a distant echo. It wasn't a moan… it was a deep, distorted roar, powerful enough to make the foliage tremble.
"No matter how far it tries to hide," he said calmly, his red eyes glowing. "We will find it… and I'll destroy it before it becomes a plague."
Alicia stood up, her childish expression barely hiding the determination of someone far more mature than her age.
"Then let's hurry, Dad. Because if we let it grow… there won't be weapons in this world capable of stopping it."
Both followed the trail, disappearing into the heart of the forest, where the earth still vibrated with the echoes of something inhuman.
The deeper they went, the clearer the mutant zombie's path became, until it transformed into something far worse: a kind of lair.
Dismembered human bodies hung from roots and branches—some barely recognizable, others reduced to gnawed remains. It was a grotesque tableau, a feast of death. The stench of dried blood and rotting flesh filled the air, so thick it was hard to breathe.
"He must be here…" murmured Senji in his grave tone. It wasn't a guess but a certainty. No normal beast could have done this. Only a creature that was trying to learn… and enjoy.
His expression hardened as he sharpened his senses. Every muscle in his body was prepared, every fiber taut to the limit.
They were stepping into the wolf's den.
Deep within the lair, among corpses piled like trophies, the mutant zombie slowly raised its head.
Its single crimson eye gleamed in the gloom, cutting through the darkness like a torch.
Its senses, unnaturally sharp for an undead, caught something different.
Steps.
Breaths.
Heartbeats.
The sound of life.
"Two… humans…?" it growled, but it wasn't an empty growl. Its voice was a guttural babble, forced, as if its rotten throat were trying to remember what it meant to speak.
It was confused. It didn't understand why two humans had invaded its lair. That place, that pile of corpses, that unbearable stench—it was its refuge, its home.
Its deformed fingers clawed the ground, leaving deep marks. In its withered skull chaotic, disordered thoughts swirled, but they were becoming clearer.
Hunger.
Danger.
Curiosity.
"You… should not… be here…" it spat, its jaw dislocating with the effort of forming words.
The silence of the forest seemed to bow to it, as if the shadows themselves obeyed its presence.
The mutant zombie took its first step.
Heavy. Firm.
The ground quivered beneath its deformed foot.
Then another.
And another.
It advanced with steady confidence, utterly different from the clumsy gait of common undead. It didn't stumble, didn't falter; each step was calculated, as if its rotting body remembered how a predator should move.
Its crimson eye burned in the shadows, fixed in the direction of the intruders who dared to profane its lair.
"Humans…" it babbled, its voice deep and coarse, like rusted iron scraping stone. "Sweet… flesh…"
It didn't run.
It didn't growl desperately.
It walked calmly, with the certainty that sooner or later it would catch its prey. Like a hunter savoring the tension before the feast.
Each of its steps echoed like a drum in the darkness of the forest, a reminder that this thing was no longer a simple zombie.
At the entrance of its lair, the mutant zombie stopped.
Its single burning eye studied the intruders with a glint of confusion.
Two humans.
A young man with a firm stance, and a fragile-looking girl, no older than twelve.
Easy prey.
Its dislocated jaw stretched grotesquely, letting out a guttural growl. For it, this was guaranteed prey. The stench of dismembered bodies spread throughout its lair only fueled its arrogance: tangible proof of its strength, of its superiority over living flesh.
In its distorted mind, there was no doubt.
The two would be its next meal.
The mutant flexed its fingers—black, deformed claws—like an executioner savoring victory before raising the axe.
The mutant zombie advanced with a slow, open attack, confident.
In its mind, there was no chance of resistance: no weak human had ever survived its claws.
But this time was different.
The young man stepped forward firmly, seized its right wrist with iron strength, and in a brutal motion lifted it off the ground, slamming it against the earth.
The crash of impact echoed like thunder in the forest.
The mutant blinked—if the trembling of its crimson eye could be called that. Once, twice.
Had it been its imagination? A trick of its warped perception?
No.
The human had really done it.
Roaring in frustration, it staggered to its feet and launched a second attack. This time it wouldn't be so careless. Its claws moved faster—not enough to rival a true predator, but certainly enough to shred ordinary prey.
The man barely tilted his body.
The swipe missed, tearing hardened soil and leaving a deep gash in the ground.
Then, with terrifying calm, the man tightened his right fist and drove it into the mutant's torso.
WHAM!
The impact rang like a war drum. The hardened flesh, which until now had resisted bullets and bites, collapsed beneath the brute force of the blow. The zombie's body trembled, and the clear imprint of a human fist was left on its side.
The mutant staggered back, a strangled growl escaping.
For the first time since it had begun devouring human flesh… it had felt real pain.
The mutant's crimson eye flared with fierce intensity.
It could no longer see him as just another weak human.
Its stance shifted—from the arrogant ease of a scavenger to the lethal tension of a true predator.
Each strike it unleashed splintered trees, ripped roots, and cracked stone, reducing the surroundings to rubble beneath its brute strength.
But what confused it most was that man… that adult human… could match its level.
It had seen it. Even when it attacked the girl with him, it barely managed to wound her before she escaped from its lair. And now, standing before it, that man remained firm, his fists clashing against its own with such power that the very ground shook beneath their battle.
BAM!CRACK!WHAM!
Each collision echoed like a titanic hammer pounding the earth.
Then, it saw it.
The human ripped an enormous trunk out of the ground as if it were nothing more than an ordinary branch.
The mutant blinked in disbelief, shocked for the second time at that creature of flesh and blood.
The trunk was hurled with murderous fury, a colossal projectile meant to crush it.
With a roar, the mutant zombie dodged in time, watching the trunk sail into the air and crash in the distance.
It didn't care where it landed. That wasn't important.
The only thing that mattered was what stood before it.
That human.
That man who, for the first time in its entire existence… was beginning to scare it.