New Dawn Chapter: 0104

Tysone felt a tick of anger. He wanted to reach out and grab the man's neck. Instead, he closed his eyes for a moment. "I understand that this is difficult, but we can't afford to stop. We have no idea what's out there, and every moment we spend exposed increases the risk to all of us." He explained, slowly and calmly. "The quicker we move, the faster we'll be safe. If you wish to rest, then you're more than free to do so. Just know that we're not stopping for you."

The survivor's eyes widened, as if not expecting Tysone to be so ruthless. "That's..." His face, already pale, seemed to drain of its remaining color, his bravado crumbling like dry clay.

He looked from Tysone's unyielding expression to the grim, exhausted faces of the core group, none of whom offered a shred of support for his plea. Even Officer Nakaoka, who had shown flickers of compassion, merely watched with a worried frown, her hand instinctively tightening on her pistol.

"That's… inhuman." The man finally whispered, his voice cracking. He was a middle-aged salaryman, clearly unused to any form of hardship, let alone the brutal reality of their new world. His expensive suit, now a sodden, mud-stained rag, was a testament to how quickly fortunes had changed.

Tysone's expression didn't soften. If anything, a flicker of something cold and sharp glinted in his eyes, a reflection of the aurora-streaked sky above. "Inhuman is surviving. Whining about being tired while those things are out there, evolving, getting stronger… that's suicidal. And it drags everyone else down with you." He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low, almost predatory register. "We lost our ride. We're exposed. Every second we waste is a gift to whatever is hunting in this city. You want to rest? Fine. Rest forever. But we're moving."

He didn't wait for a reply, turning on his heel and gesturing for the others to follow. Saeko and Takashi fell beside him without a word. Rei, still supporting a grimacing Saya, nodded curtly. Kohta gave the complaining man a brief, almost pitying glance before shouldering his rifle and moving to cover their rear.

The salaryman, Mr. Tanaka as they'd learned earlier, stood frozen for a moment, his mouth agape. The other new survivors, a young woman named Yumi who'd twisted her ankle, a stoic older gentleman called Kenji, and a perpetually nervous teenager, Haruto, exchanged frightened glances. Officer Nakaoka hesitated, her gaze torn between Tysone's departing group and the stranded man.

"Tanaka-san." Nakaoka said, her voice gentle but firm. "He's right. We… we have to keep moving. Please."

Tanaka looked wildly around the desolate, rain-swept street, at the looming shadows of the buildings, the unnatural glow of the aurora painting everything in shades of sickly green and violet. The silence, broken only by his own ragged breathing, suddenly felt terrifyingly immense. The prospect of being left alone was a far greater terror than Tysone's cold dismissal.

With a choked sob, he stumbled forward, scrambling to catch up. "Wait! Wait for me!"

Tysone didn't slow, but he didn't actively try to lose him either. The lesson needed to stick.

The blocked street ahead was indeed a mess. Cars were piled up like discarded toys, some blackened and twisted by fire, others simply abandoned mid-motion. The bus, a behemoth of rusted metal, lay on its side, its windows shattered, effectively sealing the road.

"Through the bus, or around?" Takashi asked, peering into the dark interior of the vehicle. It looked like a steel coffin.

"Around." Tysone decided, his eyes already scanning the grimy facade of the department store to their left. The "Mitsuboshi Grand" sign, with half its neon letters dangling precariously, looked like a forgotten tombstone. "Through that building. Could be zombies inside, but it's better than being sitting ducks trying to climb that bus wreckage."

He pointed towards a narrow service alley, choked with overflowing dumpsters. "That way. Looks like a service entrance."

Takashi grunted. "Smells like one too."

The alley was a claustrophobic passage, the stench of decay and damp concrete thick in the air. The new survivors—Yumi, Haruto, and the injured Officer Nakaoka—pressed close.

Tysone found the service door, a heavy steel plate, slightly ajar. With a grunt, he pushed it wider, his halberd held ready. The interior was pitch black.

"Kohta, light." Tysone ordered.

A few cranks of Kohta's flashlight, and a weak beam cut through the darkness, revealing a loading bay. Dust motes danced in the pale light. Crates and pallets lay scattered like fallen dominoes. At least, the flashlight worked.

"Looks… quiet." Kohta whispered, his voice tight.

"For now." Tysone muttered. "We cut straight through to the other side of the street. Stay alert. Anything moves, assume it's hostile."

The department store was a silent labyrinth of overturned displays and mannequins. Streaks of blood painted the linoleum floor, dried to a deep ochre in the dim light filtering through boarded-up skylights. Here and there, broken glass and discarded clothes littered the aisles, remnants of a panic that seemed to have happened centuries ago.

Yumi, her twisted ankle throbbing, leaned heavily on Haruto, who clutched his tire iron with white-knuckled intensity.

As they crept through the gloom, a sudden sound froze them all in their tracks. A soft, shuffling noise, followed by the rustle of cloth. It was coming from the far end of a women's clothing section. The group exchanged tense looks, their hands tightening on their weapons.

Tysone raised a hand, signaling for silence. Slowly, he edged forward, his halberd at the ready. The shuffling continued, a sound that could have been the scurrying of rats or the dragging feet of the undead. He peered around a corner, his clear eyes piercing the shadows.

There, in the dim light, he saw the source of the noise: rats.

Really?

A bunch of them, squeaking and tearing at something on the ground, were feeding on the remains of an undead.

"Nothing. Just some rats." He called out, before stepping back to rejoin his group.

However, just as he turned, the rats stopped their munching, looked up at Tysone, and emitted a disturbingly high-pitched, prolonged squeak.

Tysone's eyes widened—the rats had jumped high up to pounce on him. Yumi shrieked in terror. However, before she could blink, the rats had their midsections sliced in half. Their upper and lower halves fell to the ground with a squelching noise, where they writhed in agony for a moment before growing still.

Tysone, who had moved at a blinding speed to take them out, was back in his place, his halberd at the ready, as if nothing had happened. "Ugh. I guess not just zombies can evolve." He murmured.

The group stared at him in a mix of awe and relief.

"Saya, what do you think?" Tysone turned to the genius of his group, who had a contemplative look on her face.

Saya nodded, her eyes narrowed in thought. "It's not a stretch to assume the zombie virus can jump to other species, especially considering its apparent mutagenic properties. We've already seen it affect humans in unpredictable ways. Rats are opportunistic scavengers, so it's likely they came into contact with contaminated sources of food." She replied, her voice tight as she glanced at the undead the rats had been feeding on.

Rei frowned deeply. "So, we have to worry about zombies, evolved zombies and now zombie rats? What's next, flying zombie birds?"

Saya shrugged, a small, mirthless smile tugging at her lips. "Stranger things have happened."

"Right..." Rei muttered, shaking her head. At this point, nothing could surprise her anymore.

Kotha walked up to Tysone, nudging him out of his thoughts, and whispered. "Boss, what do we do?"

Saeko also looked at him, awaiting instructions.

"We press on." Tysone replied, his voice firm. "The situation outside isn't any better; keep on the lookout for animals as well."

As they moved forward, Tysone fell deep into thought.

In the original, animals hadn't become infected.

But then again, he had never seen anything about human evolution either. Still, it didn't make him feel any better. It just meant more enemies to watch his back for. 

Tysone was snapped out of his thoughts as he felt something was wrong.

…There was a change in the air. A subtle shift—too quiet, too still.

The hairs on the back of Tysone's neck stood up.

He halted. "Stop." He ordered, hand raised. 

The group froze behind him. 

Then they heard it.

A sound like a wet, ragged inhale. A low, guttural rasp, growing louder. Closer. It echoed through the broken store, dragging behind it the sound of claws scratching linoleum.

A shape moved in the shadows.

Tysone's eyes locked onto it, emerging slowly from the far end of a shattered display aisle.

 It moved unlike any zombie they'd encountered before. Faster. Tighter. Its limbs twitched with unnatural energy.

Then it stepped into the dim light of the flashlight. Saya gasped.

It looked like a corpse, but… wrong.

Its skin was an unnatural deep crimson, stretched tight over its bulging muscles. 

Its mouth was locked in a permanent snarl, sharp teeth gleaming with saliva. Claws—far too long—scraped the floor as it hunched forward, its back arching like a predator ready to pounce.

For some reason, Tysone was hit with a deja vu. 

'I've seen that thing before…'

Author's Note:

If you're enjoying the story and want to read ahead or support my work, you can check out my P@treon at P@treon.com/LordCampione. But don't worry—all chapters will eventually be public. Just being here and reading means the world to me. Thank you for your time and support.