chapter 4

"I have a grenade," Xie Kai said, his voice low but firm. No need for more words. The situation was clear.

The boy nodded, reloading his weapon quickly. His hands moved fast, shaky but purposeful. He managed to throw a few more smoke bombs—firecrackers, maybe—and they exploded in a burst of thick, choking smoke. The undead shrieked and recoiled, but didn't give up the chase.

Xie Kai stayed a few steps behind, watching the boy rush forward. His body was already starting to give out, the pain growing more intense with every step.

"Go there," Xie Kai ordered, gesturing toward a small gap between the undead—a fleeting chance for the boy to escape.

Without a second thought, the boy rushed toward the opening, his heart pounding. But something tugged at him—a whisper of doubt. Why wasn't Xie Kai beside him?

But He didn't look back.

Xie Kai stood still for a moment, watching the boy move to safety. His chest was tight, his breath shallow. He could feel the infection spreading, the rot clawing its way through his veins, but there was no time to think about that now.

He pulled out his knife. His hands were already slick with blood. With grim resolve, he set to work, cutting into his own hand—trying to bleed the infection out, even if he knew it was already too late. The dark blood was thick, unnatural. It told him all he needed to know.

The final motion came naturally. He pulled the grenade pin.

The sound of it was almost soothing in a twisted way. The undead, attracted to the scent of fresh blood, began to move toward him in a frenzy. The smell was distinct, tempting in this place—fresh, human blood—and they weren't about to let it slip away.

And now—the boy realized something was wrong.

The horde wasn't chasing him anymore.

He turned.

His breath caught in his throat.

Smoke drifted between broken shadows. In the center, Xie Kai stood—still, surrounded, calm. There was no fear in his eyes. Only peace.

"Go," Xie Kai said.

Just one word.

For the first time, he could truly see Xie Kai's face through the thinning smoke and undead swarm—relieved, almost calm. That was definitely not what he had seen when they first met in the tunnel. It was as though Xie Kai had made his peace. There was no fear in his expression, only a quiet acceptance of what was happening.

The boy couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. In that instant, he understood. Xie Kai had made his choice.

The boy turned and ran—but this time, tears blurred his vision. Every step forward felt like betrayal. Like grief.

Behind him, Xie Kai watched.

He didn't flinch. Didn't even look away. He wasn't sure what the struggle had been for. When he saw the boy running, something stirred—pity, faint but undeniable. The boy, unaware of the truth, was chasing a false escape with all the desperation of the living. But the living always thought they understood the way out. They didn't.

Neither the living nor the dead had direction.

They were all trapped in the same decaying world, where survival was just another illusion. Even the boy couldn't outrun what was coming.

Xie Kai's pity deepened—not just for the boy, but for everyone. All of them were hopeless, spinning in circles in a world where no one truly knew how to leave.

For the first time in a long while, Xie Kai stood tall.

The weight he had carried—both physical and emotional—lifted as his posture straightened. Shoulders that had long been hunched under the burden of survival finally relaxed. He surveyed the desolate scene before him—the chaos, the undead closing in. But there was no hesitation now. He wasn't running anymore. He wasn't avoiding the truth.

This was his reality. And he was ready to face it.

He had never known where he was going. No path, no plan, no companion. Years of survival had stripped him of attachments. Loneliness became routine; solitude, a second skin. But something from his past had kept him moving all this time—his parents. His blood. They had loved him in a way no one else ever had. Selfless. Constant. Their memory had been his anchor. But now, even they were gone.

He had left the organization behind long ago—the one that still fought for what remained of mankind. It wasn't that he'd abandoned the cause. But after his mother died, there was nothing left in him to give. He wasn't a hero. He never wanted to be. He only ever wanted to protect her. And when he lost her, everything changed.

He survived alone after that. Trusted no one. Fought only to preserve the life his parents had once fought so fiercely to protect.

Now, as the infection crept through his veins, he felt the last traces of fear dissolve. The scratch—too close to his heart—had sealed his fate. But it had also unshackled him. He wasn't afraid of death anymore. The terror that once haunted him had vanished. He was done being afraid.

He was finally fearless.

A distant explosion cracked through the silence—a grenade, tearing through the horde in a flash of fire and smoke. It cleared a narrow path. Just enough. Enough for the boy to escape.

And for the first time in years, peace washed over Xie Kai.

Not the peace of survival. Not the peace of triumph.

But the quiet, final kind—the peace that comes with acceptance.

He had done what he could. He had given the boy a chance.

The undead surged forward, unstoppable. But for him, it was over.

Looking back, Xie Kai realized that all his years of running, fighting, surviving... they had been leading here. Not to a future, but to a feeling.

He hadn't known what he was searching for, but now he did.

Peace. A way out.

Not the kind found in escape—but in letting go.

And in that final breath, he found freedom.

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