The evening wind blew through the shattered window of the Archive Room. The air no longer carried a refreshing chill. Instead, it brought a thick, stomach-churning stench of burning asphalt, melting rubber, and the metallic tang of blood pooling everywhere.Jaemin stood frozen at the edge of the warped aluminum frame. His hands, coated in black blood, gripped the window ledge so tightly that his knuckles turned a sickly white.Down below, roughly three stories from where he stood, hell was throwing a feast.The hospital courtyard was swarming with dozens of the undead roaming aimlessly, dragging their broken legs or busily tearing into the remains of victims who had failed to escape. But among the sea of repulsive monsters on the asphalt, Jaemin's silver eyes locked onto a single spot.Right near the security booth pole.A woman crouched with her back facing the building. Her knee-length maroon dress, the exact same outfit his mother had ironed that morning, was now torn at the shoulde

The muzzle of the revolver pressed so hard into Minseok's forehead that it left a deep, red indentation in his cold, sweat-drenched skin.The Archive Room instantly froze. The atmosphere of grief and sorrow that had torn at their hearts just seconds ago evaporated without a trace. It was completely replaced by a lethal tension, ready to explode at any given moment.Jinwoo towered over the middle-aged virus creator. The police officer's breathing was ragged. His chest heaved rapidly. His bloodshot eyes radiated pure, unadulterated fury that could no longer be contained by any law enforcement code of ethics in this world."Take it back," Jinwoo hissed lowly. His voice trembled as he fought to suppress the explosive wave of emotion. His index finger rested tightly against the trigger. "Go on, say it again. You said his brother's crying is going to get us killed? Then what the hell do you think your failed experiment did to his mother, who is getting eaten alive down there, you bastard?!"

Thud. Thud. Screeeech.The sound of claws desperately scratching against the steel surface grew increasingly violent. The harsh, metallic screech grated painfully against their eardrums. Every so often, the scratching was punctuated by the heavy slam of a shoulder and guttural, wet growls coming from just outside the Archive Room’s double doors. There were clearly more than just one or two of them out there now. The coppery stench of fresh blood leaking from Minseok’s shoulder had successfully lured a ravenous pack, clustering them right in the third-floor hallway.Jinwoo pressed his back flat against the concrete wall. The young cop's face was completely drained of color. He stared blankly at the eight bullets resting heavily in the palm of his hand."We are going to die in here," Jinwoo muttered, his breathing ragged. "Eight bullets to get through thousands of monsters. We only have an hour and a half left before the sky rains Napalm missiles. We do not have a way out of this.""Get