Chapter 119: Continue The Stories

Max’s voice sounded entirely hollowed out, cracking like dry timber on the single name: "Christine."

Behind him, Toby and Jacob stood by the heavy roll-up shutter they had just unlatched. Neither of them looked comfortable. Their eyes darted nervously between the floor and the towering figure of the veteran survivor.

"B-Brother Max, wait a second—let me explain first," Jacob stammered, stepping forward with his hands raised in an appeasing gesture. He reached out to clasp Max’s shoulder, attempting to steer him away from the carnage.

Max didn’t even glance at him. With a single, dismissive jerk of his arm, he shoved Jacob aside with brutal, effortless force. Approaching level twenty-five, Max’s raw physical stats were leagues above an ordinary person; Jacob, lingering somewhere around a measly level five, was easily pushed away.

Toby supported the cowboy hatted man, absorbing half the force as he struggled to remain standing.

Max really wasn’t holding back, as he walked forward without slowing down.

Tangled locks of familiar chestnut hair spilled out from beneath the edge of the second tarp.

Max froze. The breath locked in his throat, and the world seemed to narrow down to that single patch of bloodied cotton.

His eyes stretched wide, veins spiderwebbing across the whites as his knees gave out beneath him. He hit the concrete with a dull thud, kneeling beside the covered body like a man condemned.

Around him, the storage facility was deathly quiet. Nobody dared to approach him. Nobody dared to breathe too loudly.

Trembling violently, Max reached out with thick, calloused fingers. He pinched the hem of the sheet and slowly pulled it back.

He managed to look for less than half a second before violently throwing the cloth back down over the mangled face.

A sharp, visceral heave wracked his chest. Max doubled over, swallowing back the burning surge of bile that rushed into his throat. His knuckles turned stark white as he drove his fists into the floor, fracturing the thin surface of the sealant beneath his weight.

Slowly, terrifyingly, he raised his head. His eyes, burning with unspeakable agony and barely restrained slaughter, locked directly onto Maya and Jacob.

"How... did... this... happen?" he demanded.

Every single syllable was dragged through broken glass, dripping with thick, suffocating rage.

Maya flinched, instinctively taking a step back and bowing her head in deep, crushing shame. She couldn’t meet his gaze.

Jacob, however, scrambled forward, immediately dusting off his neon jacket while contorting his face into a mask of pure, performative grief. His lip trembled, and he sniffled audibly, desperately trying to summon tears to sell the tragedy.

"It was the infected, Brother Max," Jacob croaked, his voice thick with faux sorrow. "Dickens... Dickens turned first. The fever took him without warning, and he broke through the partition, lunging straight for Christine. She screamed and tried to run, and we rushed over to help her, I swear to God we did! But..."

Jacob turned his pleading eyes toward Maya, gesturing wildly. "Maya was right there! She had the gun! Tell him, Maya!"

Maya’s head sank even lower, her grip tightening around the grip of her sidearm. "I-I tried to shoot him... I took the shot, but the bastard moved. He was smart... Much smarter than any zombie we have encountered so far. He knew that the bullet won’t kill him unless shot into the head, so he protected the head, tanking my shots with his body..."

By now, Fredrinn, Aadav, and Jenny had also wandered inside.

Vivienne and the school students stayed behind in the bus outside, understanding that something terrible had unfolded and that piling in would only make things worse. With the surrounding area cleared and the bus sealed tight, there was little risk.

At last, Rose stepped through the open door.

The harsh overhead LED strips illuminated her with crystal clarity. Her smooth, ashy grey skin had an unnatural, porcelain sheen that was undeniably monstrous.

Her long, crimson hair cascaded down her back like spilled wine, framing a face of breathtaking, ethereal perfection—marred only by the two sharp, sweeping horns curving out from her forehead.

Her pupils, pulsing with the newly awakened Greater Succubus Body, were shaped like deep, vibrant pink hearts.

To a room full of survivors already pushed to the brink by an internal slaughter, she didn’t look like an ally.

She looked like a nightmare. A monster.

"ZOMBIES! RUN!" Toby shrieked, his voice cracking into pure hysteria, while Sarah, Clara, and even Jacob winced and scrambled back at the sight of her.

Maya’s law enforcement instincts took over in a flash of blind panic. She whipped around, raised her pistol, and squeezed the trigger, aiming dead center for Rose’s head.

"Wait—" Fredrinn shouted, the gunshot immediately deafening the enclosed space...

The bullet sliced through the air.

Yet, Fredrinn wasn’t worried about Rose.

His shout was aimed at holding Rose back, silently pleading with her not to slaughter the humans on the spot just for reacting like terrified prey.

Rose, far smarter now than the feral creature she once was, understood his intent instantly.

She didn’t even try to dodge. Raising a single, delicate hand, she caught the high-velocity round squarely in her palm. The slug tore into the flesh and jammed hard against the dense bone, unable to penetrate further.

With a bored, casual flick of her fingers, Rose plucked the mangled piece of lead out of her palm and tossed it aside, not a single wince escaping her lips.

Before the wide, horrified eyes of everyone in the room, the wound closed seamlessly, leaving behind nothing more than a tiny smudge of dark blood.

Andrea, Jacob, and everyone else who had never seen Rose stood frozen, gawking in absolute disbelief at the crimson-haired demon.

Seeing her sidearm rendered completely useless, Maya froze, keeping the trembling barrel pointed forward simply because her fingers were paralyzed by terror.

Rose glanced at Fredrinn, catching his subtle nod. A smirk touched her lips as her heel clicked against the floor.

In a fraction of a second, she vanished.

Only Fredrinn and high-level Awakeners caught the blur of her speed before she materialized right beside Maya. Their heights weren’t that far off, but the size of presence... It was much different.

"Rose isn’t a human, but not a threat either," she purred, looking down with her piercing, heart-shaped pink eyes. Her lips curled into an amused, condescending smirk. "Rose forgives you for the little wound earlier. But now... you will listen to my commands until I feel like letting you go. Understood?"

Maya parted her lips, trembling from head to toe, and nodded like a terrified hen pecking at grain. She was seconds away from losing control of her bladder; whatever the demon wanted, she would agree to in a heartbeat.

"Rose..." Max said hesitantly, his deep voice thick with restraint, fists clenched tightly as grief tore through his eyes.

Her dramatic entrance had cut off the only thing he cared about, and he couldn’t take the silence any longer. He needed the full story. He had to know how Christine died, and what really happened while they were away.

Rose shrugged casually, shifting her crimson gaze toward Jacob and Maya.

"Continue the stories," she said.