Gantsuke jolted awake.
He'd been dreaming—something about meeting Linji at the bar, getting slapped, and then being beaten half to death by three of her jealous boyfriends.
"Severe Catastrophe Alert: All civilians are required to evacuate to the nearest city shelter. Repeat: Maximum threat level warning in effect. Please follow all emergency protocols."
The synthesized female voice echoed from a speaker embedded in the wall. It sounded just like the robotic announcements on a spaceship.
"What the hell…?"
He groaned, wincing as he sat up. His neck throbbed like someone had hit it with a steel pipe.
Where am I?
He blinked, trying to separate dream from reality.
Then it hit him—he'd been tased. The memories returned like shards of glass. His eyes scanned the heavy iron bars.
He was in a cell.
"Goddamn it…"
But that wasn't the worst part. No, the worst part was the other man in the cell. A stranger, curled up on the floor, shaking like he was in the middle of a seizure.
"Hey! You! What the hell's going on here?"
Gantsuke called out, eyes narrowing. If he'd seen a guy like this collapsed on the street, he'd probably run over to help. But this wasn't the street—and instinct told him to back the hell away.
He pressed his back against the cold bars, heart starting to pound.
"Somebody out there—HEY! Get over here!"
He shook the bars like a pissed-off gorilla in a zoo.
"H-Hurk… Glrk…"
The man on the floor—black jacket, jeans—started convulsing violently, vomiting thick blood like a drunk in a gutter. The stench of raw, coppery rot hit Gantsuke's nose like a punch.
"What the actual f—"
He gagged, lifting a hand to shield his face. He started hammering the bars louder.
"HEY! SOMEBODY! WE GOT A SITUATION IN HERE!"
His cybernetic leg—made from the same lightweight alloy used in spacecraft—slammed against the cell bars.BANG. BANG. BANG.No response.
"Glrrrk… glkk…"
The man twitched once, then violently spasmed, body bending in ways no human should.
"Don't you f***ing dare," Gantsuke hissed.
The man rose slowly, like a broken marionette being jerked to its feet.One arm twisted in the wrong direction. His feet dragged forward like a rabid animal sniffing out prey.
"Shit…"
Gantsuke's pulse spiked. Adrenaline lit up his body like fire.
He kicked—full force with his metal leg.THUD.
The man's body flew across the cell and slammed into the concrete wall.
In that moment, for the first time in years, Gantsuke felt grateful for losing his real leg.Because his new one just saved his life.
"Die. Die. DIE!!"
He screamed, stomping on the thing's skull.The cracking sound—**bone, then brain matter—**spattered across the floor.
He didn't stop until it stopped twitching.
Panting, he staggered back, chest heaving.
"Stay down… just stay the hell down…"His voice trembled. Sweat stung his eyes. It felt like crying.
And then—the body twitched.
Three more spasms, then silence.
What… is this hell?
He ran both hands over his soaked face, pacing like a test subject in a failed drug trial.
"What the fuck is happening to me…"
A hundred breaths later, the ringing in his ears started to fade. He could finally make out the voice again.
"Severe Contagion Warning. All citizens are urged to evacuate to designated shelters. High-risk infection detected. Repeat…"
The robotic voice looped on a broken track.
"Infection…?"
Gantsuke squinted at the bite mark on the stranger's arm.A bite. An actual human bite.
…I need keys. Gotta get the keys…
He scanned the room—desperate. The cell felt like it was shrinking around him.A flicker of panic whispered a terrifying idea: If no one comes... I might have to eat this guy's corpse to survive.
And it wasn't even that far-fetched.
The whole city was evacuating.Who the hell was going to come save a random convict like him? Even if he was innocent.
…This is how people die in silence.
"Skrrt… Skrrk…"
The faint scrape of rubber soles on concrete made his ears perk up. He froze, holding his breath.
Then—footsteps.
"HEY! HELP! Someone's alive in here!" he shouted toward the hallway.
The steps stopped. For half a second, hope bloomed in his chest.
Then the sound charged at him.
Not a soldier. Not a rescuer. It was too fast, too jagged—like a half-dead animal trying to crawl home.
"Shit!"
He jumped back from the bars just in time to see—
A cop.
Blue uniform. Pale face. Empty eyes. Blood dripping down his chin.
Gantsuke's gaze locked on the officer's belt—specifically, the holster.
Empty.
His heart sank. No gun. Just a flap of leather.
But—
Hanging next to the holster was a small metallic object.
A keyring.
And suddenly, Gantsuke had hope again.