The familiar sensation of being ripped out of the void and slammed back into reality hit him like a physical blow.

One breath.

Jagger’s eyes snapped open, and the world crashed back into him in a violent surge of color, sound, and pain.

“I’ll block, you get the one on the right!” Jung shouted, his voice raw and urgent. “Nico, keep Hyeong-nim safe!”

For a split second, Jagger’s vision swam, blurring into streaks of motion and shadow. Then it locked into place.

The smell hit him next.

Blood. Sweat. Rot.

A thick, coppery stench of fresh violence filled the room, heavy enough to choke on.

Jung stood near the stairwell, shield raised high, his stance wide and braced. His breathing was ragged, his eyes wild with focus. In his free hand, he gripped a makeshift club torn from a broken table leg, its jagged edge darkened with blood. Abdul moved behind him, shifting constantly, never still, his long sword flashing in tight, controlled thrusts.

The enemies were not mindless.

They were ghouls.

Their bodies were wrong in every way that mattered. Rotting flesh clung in patches to darkened bone, stretched thin over gaunt frames that moved with disturbing speed. Their limbs were all sinew and hunger, joints bending just slightly too far, too fast. Their jaws hung open at unnatural angles, revealing rows of needle-like teeth slick with old blood. But it was their eyes that held the true horror.

Flat. Empty.

Burning with a sickly green light.

“Motherfucker,” Abdul grunted as he adjusted his stance, blade darting forward again. “It’s like they’re smarter… they’re coordinating.”

Two ghouls pressed Jung from either side.

One lunged head-on, teeth snapping violently. Jung met it with a downward smash of his club, the impact cracking bone with a wet, splintering sound. The ghoul staggered, skull caved in, as it went limp.

The second ghoul moved instantly.

It darted low, slipping past Jung’s guard with terrifying speed. Its claws scraped against the edge of his shield, metal screeching as it forced an opening. Abdul slashed with his long sword, the blade unable to catch the ghoul.

“NICO, WATCH OUT!” Abdul yelled.

Nico stood directly in front of Jagger.

His injured right hand hung uselessly behind him, trembling uncontrollably. His left hand rose instead, fingers tightening as he slipped into a guarded stance. His feet planted firmly against the floor. His breathing slowed, forced, controlled.

The ghoul lunged at him.

It came fast, claws slashing forward.

Nico didn’t retreat.

He stepped in.

He pivoted his body just enough for the ghoul’s strike to glance wide, its momentum carrying it past the centerline. In that same motion, Nico’s left fist shot forward.

“Precision Strike.”

Red particles of light flared around his fist, condensing tightly at the point of impact.

His punch landed clean.

A sharp, wet crack echoed through the room as the ghoul’s skull fractured inward. The force snapped its head back violently, its body collapsing into a heap.

Nico didn’t hesitate.

He stepped forward and stomped down hard, crushing what remained of its skull against the floor with a sickening crunch.

It stayed down.

“Ugh…”

Jagger groaned as sensation returned fully to his body.

Pain flared everywhere at once.

His wounds were closing, skin knitting slowly, but the process was far from complete. Every movement sent raw, burning pain through his ribs, his chest, his neck. His muscles felt heavy, drained, as if filled with sand.

He tried to push himself up.

A wave of exhaustion hit him immediately, threatening to drag him back down.

He grit his teeth.

Forced himself up anyway.

“Nico,” Jagger called, his voice rough but steady.

A wide belt pouch materialized in his hand. He opened one of its compartments and pulled out a small orb of pulsing green energy. It throbbed faintly, alive with unstable power.

“Move out of the way and get cover.”

He drew his arm back, body tightening despite the strain.

“JUNG, ABDUL, JUMP TO THE SIDE NOW!”

There was no hesitation.

Jung and Abdul reacted instantly, both breaking away from their positions in sharp, decisive movements, clearing a direct line in front of Jagger.

“Volatile Gutbomb!”

Jagger hurled the orb.

It cut through the air in a clean arc and struck one of the ghouls square in the head.

For a fraction of a second, nothing happened.

Then it detonated.

A violent explosion of corrosive green acid erupted outward, splashing across the stairwell and surrounding floor. The ghouls caught in the blast shrieked, their bodies convulsing as flesh melted away in seconds. Limbs twisted and collapsed, dissolving into steaming sludge as the acid ate through them.

The sound was unbearable.

Wet. Sizzling. Final.

The smell followed immediately.

Burnt, rotting flesh mixed with chemical decay, thick and suffocating.

Acid hissed as it spread, eating through the wooden floorboards in slow, bubbling patches.

Jagger exhaled sharply and leaned back against the wall, his body finally demanding its due.

“Jagger… you’re okay,” Nico said, his voice shaky with relief. “Lean on me.”

Jagger looked at him.

Then spoke.

“Jump out the window.”

Jung and Abdul rushed over without question.

Jung scooped Jagger up into a fireman’s carry, ignoring the strain in his already exhausted body. With his other hand, he grabbed the Scavenger Fang.

“You heard Hyeong-nim,” Jung said, his voice firm despite the fatigue. “We jump.”

He didn’t slow.

He sprinted toward the balcony window and drove the Scavenger Fang through the glass. It shattered outward in a spray of shards as he burst through, launching himself into the open air.

Abdul followed immediately.

Nico came right behind.

They hit the pavement hard.

The impact tore through Jung’s legs in a brutal jolt that nearly folded him in half. Pain flared from his ankles to his spine, but he clenched his teeth and forced himself forward, boots scraping against the pavement as he fought to stay upright. Jagger’s weight remained slung over his shoulder, heavy and awkward, yet Jung refused to let him slip.

The moment they cleared the salon, they realized the street outside was worse.

They were surrounded.

Ghouls crowded the road in every direction, their gaunt bodies twitching beneath the dim city glow. There were dozens of them. Rotting flesh clung to their frames in wet strips, and those sickly green eyes burned through the dark like lanterns lit inside corpses.

Jung planted his feet and hauled his shield up with Jagger still over his shoulder, placing himself at the front without hesitation. Abdul slid into position at his side, long sword raised and ready, while Nico lifted his left fist once more, shoulders tight with fear and determination.

Jagger lifted his head despite the pain grinding through his body. His face was pale, streaked with blood and exhaustion, but his voice came out steady enough.

He tossed each of Abdul and Nico a Gutbomb.

“Throw them to the right and clear the area,” he said, pointing down the street. “We run that way.”

Abdul caught his breath with a sharp intake. Nico nearly fumbled his, then locked his fingers around it.

“Alright, boiz…” Jung muttered, sucking in a breath as he braced himself. “Let’s g…”

BOOM!

The store to the right exploded.

The blast hit like a hammer swung by a god.

A wall of fire, smoke, and shattered debris erupted outward, swallowing the street in an instant. The shockwave slammed into them before thought could catch up, hurling all of them backward down the road.

Jung was ripped off his feet and smashed into the pavement hard enough to jar every bone in his body. Jagger was torn from his shoulder and sent flying several feet away. Jung’s shield skidded from his grip as his back bounced once against the asphalt. A grunt tore from his throat, his ears ringing violently as the world tipped sideways. His vision blurred. White stars burst at the edge of his sight.

Abdul crashed nearby, twisting his body at the last second to shield Nico from the worst of the fall. Even so, the impact battered both of them hard, scraping skin, wrenching muscle, and tearing the breath from their lungs.

Jagger hit the ground and rolled. Agony ripped through him, sharp and immediate, but he forced it down with sheer will. He shook his head once, hard, trying to clear the ringing from his skull. Then he pushed himself onto one knee, every part of his body screaming in protest.

When he looked up, he saw it.

A pillar of light speared into the sky, brilliant and violent, cutting through smoke and darkness like a wound split open in the heavens. Beneath it stood a monstrous figure, staggering and bleeding as it slid across the asphalt, one enormous claw dragging through the road and carving deep grooves into the street.

A werewolf.

It was not the kind born from old stories.

This thing was a grotesque fusion of beast and nightmare, standing upright on digitigrade legs at nearly nine feet tall. Matted black fur clung to its frame, soaked in blood and broken by patches of exposed crimson muscle. Its body was thick with raw, unnatural power, with jagged bone spurs running along its spine and tail. Its massive arms ended in monstrous hands tipped with obsidian-black claws that gleamed in the firelight.

Its head was worse. Lupine in shape but twisted into a permanent snarl, it bared rows of long, serrated teeth jutting at broken angles. One deep-blue eye burned with vicious intelligence. The other was a ruined socket leaking thick black ichor down its muzzle.

Then the scream came.

“AAAAAAH!”

It tore out from inside the burning store, high and raw and full of panic.

The werewolf’s head snapped toward the sound.

A heartbeat later, a woman burst out through the flames.

Then three more followed.

They exploded from the inferno in quick succession, fire and sparks chasing them into the open street. All four women were covered head to toe in metal armor, their black capes billowing behind them like a tide of night. The armor was scorched in places, reflecting the blaze in hard flashes of red and orange, but none of them stumbled. None of them hesitated.

Each carried a massive, sleek firearm that should have been too heavy for an ordinary person to wield.

Yet they held those weapons with practiced ease.

The dark metal housing gleamed under the firelight, and azure energy coils pulsed along the frames like veins carrying living power. They came out of the fire with guns raised.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep