"No. I won't kill you out of revenge. I'll end your suffering. You've endured more than enough in this world. If there is such a thing as heaven, then you've surely earned it—for everything you went through in this life. Even as a monster, you barely touched anyone. And your call… it's nothing more than a child crying for her mother. I hope you meet her in heaven. And all the horrors you endured—as well as the memory of you as a monster—I'll take that upon myself. After all, in just a couple of days I've done more that fits the definition of 'monstrous behavior' than you have in your entire existence."
It was probably the first time I had spoken with complete sincerity. No subtext. No plans for the future. No tricks.
Two tentacles lashed out in opposite directions, finishing off the remaining ghouls. The last one had come at Trevor from behind, slamming into her back. I lunged forward, ducked low, leaning back, and with a sweep of my clawed hand severed the two tentacles that had struck at me.
Forgive me. Just endure a little longer.
I rolled, came out of it at close range, and as I rose from the lowest point of motion, I added the inertia of my entire body to the strike. My arm, bent at the elbow with claws extended, carved upward through Trevor's body—literally splitting her all the way to the crown of her head.
At the final moment, I took a blow to the face.
Digging my feet into the ground, I refused to be thrown back. Ignoring what were undoubtedly severe injuries and the strange burning sensation across my face (wow, I can actually feel something!), I pressed my whole body against Lisa, pinning her arms to her sides, and clamped my jaws around her throat as we toppled backward.
Somewhere behind, a crushed ghoul howled. I took another hit to the upper part of my face—this time from a surviving tentacle. Once again, I ignore the faint sensations and the unsettling crunch of my own bones, biting even deeper into Trevor's hissing blood.
I don't know how long it lasted. I seemed to fall out of time. Subjectively, it couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes. At some point, I simply realized that I had drained the body beneath me to the last drop.
No—two bodies. I had absorbed the ghoul's blood as well.
Only after climbing out of the pit did I realize that I had drained everyone there. I hadn't spared even the fallen Kate.
My ability to draw blood truly is… problematic.
The second realization came as I approached the city.
Something in me had changed.
Skin had grown back over my body. At the same time, I could sadly say farewell to the upper half of my outfit—only a sleeve and the collar with its hood had survived. The skin that now covered me bore the same shade as Trevor's: dark gray, with a granite-like tint. It was horrifyingly durable—even my claws could no longer pierce it. Speaking of which, my claws had shortened strangely; at maximum extension, they were no longer than three centimeters.
Like a somnambulist, I walked back into the city. There, in the cracked display window—one I remembered from my first encounter with Lisa—I caught sight of my reflection.
Perhaps it was the accumulated strain of the past days. Or perhaps Lisa's memories had struck me too deeply—after all, she had spent decades in a living hell. I laughed like a madman, pointing at the window, unable to stop, even knowing I was making far too much noise in a city that had grown even more dangerous as the infection spread. I should have been quieter.
But I couldn't.
Only after a couple of minutes did I manage, with difficulty, to pull myself together. Turning away from the glass, I couldn't resist giving it a parting wave.
From now on, I'd have to keep my hood up at all times. My face was something I should not show anyone.
I almost forgot to mention what I had become.
Back in my previous world, I used to listen to a foreign band—Disturbed. And right now, I looked almost exactly like their monster logo. The resemblance was simply phenomenal.
The same horrific grin—far too wide for a human face—devoid of any hint of lips, nothing but gums, leaving massive fangs fully exposed. Eyes glowing crimson, with no visible sclera, iris, or pupil—just solid red. And a face dark brown, as though permanently scorched by soot.
Had Trevor done something in her final strike, during the formation of my new skin, making the result even worse than before? It was entirely possible.
Below that was the body—its color and musculature matching the image as well. Yes, I now possessed an imposing build, no longer something out of the "Undead: Dystrophic Edition" category I'd previously embodied. Worn black mercenary pants and the remnants of my upper clothing—especially the hood—completed the look.
If this was a vampire, it was some monstrous Hollywood version from an American Dracula film.
"All right. It could be worse. As it is, I'm conditionally alive, practically bulletproof, and I can just keep my face hidden under the hood. Find some dark glasses(and maybe wrap a scarf around my jaw)and I'll pass for human." I tried to reassure myself.
It didn't work very well.
But whatever. But never mind — now I still have to dash across the rooftops toward Four Eyes, since she's taking her time.
(End of Chapter)
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