Chapter 7: Scum [1]

Chapter 7: Scum [1]

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(A/N: Is that a Power Stone I'm sensing? You should leave it here for safekeeping. Don't worry, I'll take good care of it.)

Word Count: 2364

Walking along the dimly lit sidewalk, bathed in the eerie shadows of the night and illuminated by the pale moonlight above, Nagi casually consumed an apple. Not long ago, he had successfully eliminated the remaining group of zombies that had survived the explosion and those drawn to the chaotic scene.

However, the encounter had left him acutely aware of the need for new equipment, as his arrowheads, cleaver, and knife had grown dull and unreliable. Lamenting the absence of a vehicle to swiftly reach the city and replenish his arsenal, Nagi decided to seek out a secluded residence nearby.

It shouldn't prove too difficult to locate, considering that some students resided in their own homes rather than the school dormitories. It seemed reasonable to assume that at least a few of them would be within proximity, although he acknowledged the possibility of his deduction being flawed.

With only a day remaining to reach the bridge before being abandoned by the group, the weight of this realization settled upon Nagi. Did he truly need them in the first place? While he acknowledged that he lacked Saeko's prowess with bladed weapons or Shizuka's healing abilities, Nagi possessed exceptional physicality and versatility, coupled with his pragmatic and intelligent mindset.

Engrossed in his thoughts and considering his future plans, Nagi eventually reached a suitable place to spend the night. It was a Western-style house, featuring a second floor enclosed by a low concrete wall and a metal gate serving as its entrance.

Devoid of any automobiles, a red bike with a front basket leaned against the side of the house, silently waiting. Approaching the house, Nagi carefully surveyed its surroundings, checking for any signs of occupancy.

Finding nothing amissno shattered glass or damaged doorknobhe proceeded to the front door, attempting to open it, only to discover that it was locked. "Of course, it wouldn't be that easy," Nagi muttered under his breath.

As he pondered his next move, his eyes briefly fell upon a 'Welcome' mat beneath his feet. An idea flickered in his mind, even though he considered it foolish and clichd. Nevertheless, he couldn't completely dismiss the possibility, as people could sometimes be remarkably foolish.

Stepping off the mat, Nagi crouched down and lifted it, revealing the hidden key beneath. "The foolishness of people astounds even me," Nagi mused quietly to himself. Securing the key in his grasp, he retrieved his cleaver from his pants, prepared for any potential threats.

With caution, Nagi inserted the key into the lock, turning it and unlocking the door. He entered the house slowly, his senses heightened, prepared to respond to any potential threat. Finding the house empty, he proceeded to place the food bag in the fridge, ensuring the blinds, windows, and door were securely closed and locked.

After thoroughly inspecting the rest of the house and finding no signs of danger, Nagi made his way to one of the upper floors and settled into the bed. Lying there, he gazed at the ceiling, his thoughts swirling in a cryptic tone, influenced by his exhaustion and encroaching drowsiness. "Go to the city using a bike, gather supplies, reunite with the group, and then..." And with that, he succumbed to slumber.

Everywhere Nagi turned, the remnants of society lay desecrated, tainted by the macabre essence of death. The buildings stood as haunting testimonies to the horrors that had transpired, their shattered windows and scorched marks serving as evidence of the violence inflicted upon them.

The walls, once pristine, now bore grotesque patterns of dried blood, creating an eerie tapestry of crimson. Flesh-like smears adorned the surfaces, pulsating with a malevolence that permeated the air.

The streets themselves were marred by the unholy remnants of the fallen. Pools of coagulated blood pooled in the crevices, seeping into the asphalt like a grotesque river of despair. The air was tainted with the metallic tang of fresh gore, mingling with the putrid stench of decay, assaulting Nagi's nostrils without mercy.

As he pressed forward, the scene grew increasingly gruesome. Abandoned toys lay forgotten in the midst of the carnage, their once bright colors now dulled and tainted by the stains of blood. Limbs, torn asunder from their owners, lay strewn across the pavement, their severed ends oozing crimson life force.

Pedaling towards an unattended car, Nagi inspected it to see if the key was present. Unfortunately, the ignition yielded no results, prompting him to search beneath the seats and in the glove compartment, but his efforts proved fruitless.

Disappointed but undeterred, Nagi returned to the bike and continued his search for a suitable means of transportation. He knew that finding a vehicle wouldn't be easy in such dire circumstances, but he couldn't help but wish for things to look his way.

Yet instead of aiming his wish a faint rumble of a vehicle engine caught his attention. His instincts kicked in, and he quickly veered off the main road, skillfully maneuvering the bike behind a nearby dumpster. Concealing the bike from view, Nagi climbed atop the dumpster, using it as a makeshift stepping stone to ascend to the roof of a nearby gas station.

From his elevated vantage point, Nagi surveyed the area, trying to locate the source of the engine noise. As he peered into the distance, he finally spotted a vehicle approaching. It was a red Toyota four door pick up truck. Brandishing his bow and loading an arrow just in case, Nagi continued to observe.

A truck rolled to a stop in front of Nagi, catching his attention. Peering through the windshield, he observed the four occupants inside. Their physical stature varied, with one notably muscular individual, bald and proudly displaying an Oni tattoo on his bare arm.

The remaining duo appeared to be corporate workers, distinguished by their attire, while the last person donned an apron, hinting at a different occupation. Stepping out of the car, the group surveyed their surroundings, their eyes scanning the desolate area before shifting their attention to the figure who exuded an aura of authority.

"Wasn't there a kid here? We just saw him enter the city. Where could he have gone?" The man in the apron mused, his words laced with a sinister curiosity.

Nods of agreement rippled through the group, and one of the corporate workers chimed in, his voice dripping with malice, "Indeed. If he's carrying anything valuable, it's ours for the taking. And if not, well... we can always kill him."

As he finished speaking, Nagi's eyes caught sight of the shotgun resting in the man's hands. Glancing at the others, he observed that each of them possessed a weapon of their own. The man in the apron gripped a gleaming cleaver, its blade tainted with a sanguine hue.

Meanwhile, the leader held another shotgun, its cold metal glinting under the dim light. The final member of the group chose to remain unarmed, his empty hands serving as a hint of his skill in hand-to-hand combat.

"Quiet," the tattooed man commanded, his voice laced with authority. "It appears that he heard the truck and decided to hide or make his escape. Well, if he wants to play this game of cat and mouse, then so be it. The one who catches him will be rewarded with a taste of the woman we captured earlier. Do we have a deal?"

Hearing these words, Nagi's eyes darkened, void of any trace of emotion, as he coldly observed the group before him. He had made it clear that he adhered to a personal moral code, and this situation was no exception.

He was well aware of the atrocities that were occurring on a global scale in this accursed world, and he had no aspirations of becoming a hero amidst the chaos.

However, if there was an opportunity for him to intervene and prevent such an act, Nagi would seize it, especially if the rewards were worth his time. While some may question his involvement in such situations, given his ambiguous moral code, the answer remains elusive:

Who knows?

Author Words:

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