Chapter 7: The Edge Of Ruin

The wind howls through the shattered remains of Jagalchi Market, carrying the scent of salt, decay, and something else—something darker. I grip my spear tighter, my pulse thrumming against my skin as Jae moves beside me, silent as a shadow. The ruins of Busan sprawl around us, a once-thriving city reduced to bones and ash.

"We shouldn't be here," I whisper, eyes scanning the collapsed buildings, the twisted metal that used to be storefronts, homes, lives.

Jae doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he kneels, pressing his fingers against the ground. He lifts them, rubbing the dirt between his fingertips, his sharp gaze locked on the distance. "They passed through here recently."

"They?" My throat tightens. I already know the answer.

"The scavengers."

I curse under my breath. The last time we ran into them, Jae nearly slit their leader's throat. And now we're back in their hunting ground. I scan the abandoned stalls and crumbling walls, but it's the stillness that unnerves me. Something is watching.

Jae motions for me to move, and we weave through the debris of Nampo-dong, past the husks of rusted-out buses and overturned carts. The cityscape is eerily beautiful in its ruin, the neon lights long since extinguished, leaving only shadows and echoes of the past.

We reach Gukje Market when the scent of blood thickens the air.

A body dangles from the remnants of a collapsed overpass. Stripped. Torn open. A warning.

I clench my teeth. The scavengers don't just kill. They play.

Jae's expression is unreadable as he steps forward, boot crunching against glass. "We need to move fast."

I nod, but the air crackles with something primal. Danger is near.

The Predator in the Dark

We don't get far before the first sound reaches us—a low, rumbling growl vibrating through the wreckage of what used to be BIFF Square.

I freeze. "Tell me that's just the wind."

Jae's hand goes to his knife. "Run."

And then it pounces.

A blur of dark scales and muscle erupts from the shadows, its jaws snapping inches from Jae's throat. He rolls, dodging with inhuman reflexes, his blade flashing in the dim light.

I barely have time to react before another one lunges at me.

I throw myself backward, my spear coming up just as its massive body slams into me. I hit the ground hard, the air whooshing from my lungs. My spear sinks into its side, but it barely seems to notice. Its eyes—glowing, unnatural—lock onto mine, and I know.

This isn't just a mutated beast.

It's a hunter.

Jae is already fighting his own opponent, his movements swift, lethal. The way he moves is mesmerizing—deadly grace, controlled fury.

I don't have time to admire him. Not when claws rake toward my face.

I twist, wrenching my spear free, the blade coated in dark, viscous blood. The creature snarls, lunging again, but this time, I'm ready. I thrust forward, my spear sinking deep into its throat.

The moment it collapses, Jae is at my side, his own opponent already nothing more than a corpse at his feet. His breathing is heavy, but his eyes are on me.

Assessing. Watching.

"You're hurt," he says, voice low.

I blink. Am I? My body is thrumming with adrenaline, but when I look down, I see it. A long, shallow gash along my thigh, bleeding sluggishly.

Jae steps closer. Too close. His fingers brush against the wound, and the heat of his touch sends a different kind of shiver through me.

"It's not deep," he murmurs.

I swallow hard. Not from pain.

"We should go before more show up," I say quickly, stepping back.

His eyes flicker with something unreadable, but he nods.

We leave the bodies behind, but I can still feel his touch, ghosting against my skin.

Shelter and Heat

By the time we find shelter—a half-intact high-rise overlooking the wreckage of Busan Station—the rain has started.

The building is mostly destroyed, but the upper floors still offer some protection. Jae builds a small fire while I tend to my wound. The flames flicker between us, casting shadows along his sharp features.

I should be thinking about survival. About what's next.

But my mind is on him.

On the way he fought, the way he touched me.

On the tension that's been building for weeks, unspoken, undeniable.

The fire crackles. Jae watches me, his gaze heavy.

I shift, feeling the weight of it, feeling the pull of something I shouldn't want but do.

I should look away.

But I don't.

Instead, I let the firelight reveal everything.

And Jae doesn't look away either.

Aftermath

We find the supplies Jae was looking for—canned food, medical kits, old weapons.

We pack quickly, moving with silent efficiency.

But my mind isn't on the supplies.

It's on the way Jae looked at me after the fight.

It's on the almost-touch of his fingers against my skin.

It's on the way my pulse hasn't slowed down.

Not from the battle.

But from him.

I shake it off. There's no time for distractions.

But as we step back out into the ruins, I can't help but think—

I'm already distracted.

Then I hear it.

A low, guttural growl from the shadows.

Jae hears it too. He stops, muscles tensing, hand drifting toward his blade. My heart slams against my ribs.

That sound—it's not like the others.

It's worse.

And then, from the darkness of the collapsed street ahead, something moves.

Something big.

Something waiting.

Jae curses under his breath. "We need to run. Now."

And before I can ask why—

It lunges.