The Worse Still    

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm, golden glow across the rooftop, Eva stood there, her posture rigid and alert. This was part of her daily routine –– to ensure that nothing was out of the ordinary before nightfall. 

Her piercing eyes scanned the surroundings, always on guard, always ready for any potential threat.

Eva placed her rifle at the ready, a sleek and deadly tool that had become an extension of herself in this perilous world. It was her weapon of choice for dealing with the undead from a distance, and she knew how to use it with deadly precision.

Her mind briefly wandered back to the FALLEN she had encountered earlier. A low-level D-rank undead, it posed little challenge to her. 

In this new world, danger levels were ranked, and a D-rank work was relatively easy, though still enough to cause harm to the unprepared.