The creature slithered closer, its body blending with the trash. It was only 20 meters away now.

Then, an old radio tumbled down the garbage heap with a loud clatter. The two officers looked up. In a blur, the creature lunged forward with inhuman speed, its limbs propelling it like a missile.

“Captain! No. 2’s here! Coordinates—garbage mountain!” one officer shouted into his radio, but before he could finish, the infected’s barbed, elongated arm slammed into the intercom.

Thud!

The officers didn’t even get a chance to react before the infected struck again. One blow, and the two officers were down, bleeding heavily, their bodies already limp.

Annabelle watched in horror, her breath quickening as her heart hammered in her chest. She had thought that, by warning them, she could’ve saved their lives, but the infected’s strength was far beyond what she’d expected.

I’ve got to get out of here, fast. Like a small, nimble cat, Annabelle carefully began climbing down the garbage heap, keeping her movements as quiet as possible. The sound of the struggle below faded as she moved further away.

The battle was already over.

....

Meanwhile, Skye was on his way, his mood growing darker the closer he got to the garbage mountain.

Damn it. He cursed under his breath, running faster. The first-level infected usually just run away when facing them. But now, there was a new threat in Area C—one infected that had taken the initiative.

Within minutes, Skye and Freya arrived at the garbage mountain, their footsteps loud against the eerie quiet of the night. The ground was stained with fresh blood, and the infected had taken both officers.

“Captain!” Several of his team members appeared from all directions, their faces grim.

“Check everywhere,” Skye ordered, his voice sharp. “Move fast. But don’t spread out too far. Take all the guns.”

Skye wasn’t the friendly, easygoing “uncle” anymore, and marked with a cold fury.

His team moved swiftly, their guns drawn, advancing carefully toward the garbage mountain. The law enforcement team, though stronger than regular police, wasn’t full of awakened individuals.

Aside from Skye, the captain, and Freya, the deputy captain, the rest of the team had force values around 150. For them, guns were still their best weapon—and capable of dealing with lower-level infected.

“Huh?” Axel, hidden on the roof of a nearby civilian building, lay still as a shadow. It took him a while to catch up.

“The speed of awakened ones is something else,” Axel muttered to himself, watching as Skye and his team moved with precision. But then a creeping feeling settled in. Could No. 2 be… Annabelle? His heart skipped. This was his worst fear.

Annabelle and Axel had often scavenged the garbage mountain together. Sometimes the city’s sanitation crew would leave piles of garbage here. That’s why Axel and Annabelle sometimes came here, hoping to find useful items—like the old TV they still used.

As Axel scanned the garbage mountain’s nooks and crannies, a small head suddenly popped out of one of the pits.

A breath of relief escaped him. It wasn’t Annabelle who had been found. But Annabelle’s position would be discovered sooner or later.

“Captain, we found them!” A shout broke the stillness, and both Axel and Annabelle turned to look at the source of the voice.

Skye’s team had found two of their own, lying in the trash. Blood soaked their uniforms, and their arms were pierced with barbed wounds. It was a miracle their chests rose and fell in shallow breaths.

The rest of the team also rushed to their side. Axel’s gaze narrowed as he observed from his perch on the rooftop.

Infected only had one instinct: to kill and consume. But these two officers... Why hadn’t the infected eaten them?

At that moment, Skye’s instincts kicked in. From the moment it appeared, there had been something strange about it.

Skye's warning bells were still ringing in his mind when he suddenly felt something stir beneath his feet. Before he could react, a hissing sound filled the air. Yellow poisonous fog swirled up around them, quickly surrounding the team in a thick, suffocating cloud.

“This is an awakening skill—hold breath!” Skye shouted, his voice sharp with urgency.

He was quick, jumping down from his perch, but the others weren’t so lucky. The fog spread like wildfire, thickening in the air, and before anyone could escape, it was already inside their lungs. Freya, the other awakened one, fought to climb down the garbage mountain, but within moments, she collapsed, unconscious.

One by one, the rest of the team staggered, then fell to the ground, limp and unresponsive like drunkards.

Skye’s heart hammered, and he gritted his teeth against the dizziness that clouded his mind.

From the trash, a creature emerged, crawling on all fours, its body covered in shell-like barbs, its mouth stretching grotesquely to the roots of its ears. It glared at Skye with cold, yellow eyes—its gaze was of mockery, as if it was toying with them.

How was it possible that this creature had taken down almost an entire team in one strike?

This was no ordinary infected. Skye's head was heavy, his body sluggish, but he drew his gun with his other hand, firing as fast as he could.

"I've never seen anything shit like this," he muttered through clenched teeth. “How can it still use its awakening skills after being infected? And it's fucking so... smart.”

The file on Infected No. 2 had said it was a middle-grade first-level infected. Even though Skye was a high-grade first-level awakened, the poison fog had hit him hard. His vision blurred, and his movements were slow. Maybe I would die today.

The infected’s barbed arm swung, smashing through a nearby brick wall. If one of those strikes hit Axel, it would shatter his skull in an instant.

The gunshots echoed, and blood splattered across the infected’s monstrous form, but it didn’t slow it down. The bullets were like they were hitting clay, leaving only shallow dents in the creature’s thick, armored body.

Skye was barely holding his ground, and his breathing ragged. He dropped his gun and drew a black, jagged blade from his waist. Close combat. That was his only choice now.

It was only a matter of time before Skye became casualty. Blood poured from the captain’s wounds, staining his clothes and his vision with a haze of red. He was gasping for air, but his focus remained sharp. If I run, I would survive. But my team.....

Then his movements were becoming more sluggish, his endurance draining fast. He staggered, struggling to stay on his feet. That was when the infected lunged. Its claws, sharp as knives, tore into his side, cutting through ribs like they were paper.

Skye smiled. He gripped the infected’s arm with his left hand, his right hand stabbing the short blade into its body again and again. The infected tried to pull its arm free, and leave Skye to die. But it couldn’t move its hand.

Skye’s ribs, already pierced, seemed to solidify, turning pale as stone—a body hardening awakening skill—locking the infected’s arm in place like a vice.

The infected roared in angry, its other hand swinging wildly, pounding Skye with all its might. But Skye, gritting his teeth, grabbing the infected’s arm with one hand while stabbing relentlessly with the blade, carving bloody holes into its flesh.

"Roar!" The infected howled, its body shuddering from the strikes.