Chapter One: Prologue (Part 1)
Evening, in a remote forest in Russia—
Three men cd in camoufge fatigues leaned heavily against a rge tree, gasping for breath. Blood seeped steadily from the numerous gruesome wounds covering their bodies, staining their once grass-green uniforms a dark crimson. Yet, they seemed indifferent to their injuries, focused instead on inspecting their firearms, their faces expressionless.
"How much ammo do you have left?"
The middle-aged man of Asian descent among them suddenly spoke, ejecting the magazine from his rifle. He tossed the empty magazine aside and held up the single bullet he had left, pinched between his fingers.
"None!" replied a bck-haired young man, his voice muffled. Disappointed, he discarded his American-made military rifle and drew a hunting knife from his belt. Turning to a blond, burly man beside him, he asked, "Wolf, what about you?"
The blond man, in a fit of frustration, hurled his identical rifle at a nearby tree with such force that the M4A1 shattered into pieces upon impact. He then spat and cursed angrily, "Damn it! What a piece of junk! Only thirty rounds! I told you before we left that I wanted to bring my big gun, but you guys said it was just a small mission. Now look at us, just waiting to be sughtered..."
"I’ve got my wife’s little derringer, plus Huang’s one bullet. That’s just enough for each of us to end it ourselves," the blond man muttered after a pause, pulling a small silver pistol from his bck combat boot. The gun looked more decorative than practical, and he fiddled with it resentfully. "Even if we do kill ourselves, those zombies won’t let us be. They’re not picky eaters, but I really don’t want to end up as their shit after I die. That’s just too damn disgusting..."
The blond man continued to curse under his breath, but the other two ignored his self-deprecating rant. By now, he had already drawn the dagger from his belt, and with his left hand, he pulled a dark grenade from behind his back. Using his teeth, he yanked out the pin and gred fiercely into the dark forest ahead. It seemed his talk of suicide was just that—talk.
"Growl..."
Suddenly, a sound resembling a wounded dog’s howl echoed from the forest ahead. The three men tensed, gritting their teeth against their pain as they pushed themselves up against the tree, ready for battle.
"Are those bloodsucking 'skinners' part dog or something? How’d they catch up so fast? Lin Tao, looks like your little pup is done for," the blond man said, hefting his dagger and staring unblinkingly into the dark woods ahead.
"I know, no need to remind me!" snapped the young man named Lin Tao, his brow furrowed as he too stared ahead. Though his words were cold, his eyes betrayed a hint of worry.
"Never thought we 'corpse collectors' would go down to a bunch of small-time vampires. If this gets out, we’ll be the ughingstock of the underworld. Damn, what a disgrace!" The middle-aged man sighed, shaking his head in resignation.
"You always say, 'Live by the sword, die by the sword.' We’ve killed so many of their kin. It was only a matter of time before they came for us. But it looks like no one’s going to collect our corpses today," Wolf said with a heavy sigh. It was clear he knew their chances of survival were slim, but his grip on the dagger didn’t waver. Too many close calls had taught them never to give up until the very end.
"Who says no one’s going to collect your corpses? We’re here now..."
Before Wolf could finish his sentence, five figures emerged from the dark forest. In the faint moonlight, their attire was unmistakable—identical camoufge fatigues, combat boots, and no insignia. But their smiles were eerie, sending a chill down the spine.
The speaker was a tall, nky man with brown hair, clearly the leader of the group. His face was twisted in a mocking grin as he looked at the three men, his eyes filled with cruel amusement, like a cat toying with mice.
"Laugh all you want, bloodsucker! You think I’m just going to roll over and die? We’ll see who ends up on the ground today!" Wolf snarled, brandishing his gleaming dagger, his face a mask of defiance.
"Oh, how adorable! You humans are so hypocritical. Even at death’s door, you still talk tough. That little bit of courage you have left might just be enough to curse me a few times, huh? Oh, and by the way, is this pathetic hellhound yours?"
The nky man spoke with a hint of effeminacy. He waved his hand, and a wild-looking European woman stepped forward from behind him, dragging a rge, crimson hellhound by its neck. The beast, the size of a small calf, was barely alive, a gaping wound in its neck gushing blood.
The woman tossed the hellhound to the ground like a sack of meat and feigned concern. "Oh dear, I might have been a bit too rough. I accidentally knocked off one of its heads. Now it only has one left. How strange—aren’t hellhounds supposed to have three heads? My lord, do you know why this one only has two?"
The wild woman turned and gave the nky man a sultry look, pressing herself against him. Her left hand, adorned with a diamond ring, slid down his chest and into his pants, where she began to stroke him with practiced ease.
"A two-headed hellhound is just a reject, born to be discarded. Just like the three of you," the nky man sneered, ughing as he roughly tore open the woman’s shirt and bra, exposing her slightly sagging breasts. He pinched her dark nipples hard, twisting them mercilessly.
"Growl! How dare you touch my woman! Die, you bastard!" Wolf roared, his body suddenly beginning to swell with muscle. Thick bck fur sprouted across his skin, his jaw elongated, and sharp fangs emerged. With a loud rip, his combat uniform tore apart, revealing a massive, fearsome werewolf.
"Die, you scum!"
The newly transformed Wolf let out a guttural roar and hurled his dagger with lightning speed, aiming straight for the nky man’s throat. At the same time, he kicked off the ground, sending a chunk of turf flying as he lunged forward like an arrow, straight toward the still-ughing man.
"Don’t go! That woman isn’t Lisa anymore—he’s just trying to provoke you!" The middle-aged man reached out to stop Wolf, but he was no match for the werewolf’s strength. Not only did he fail to hold Wolf back, but he nearly fell over himself, helplessly watching as Wolf charged madly toward the enemy.
"Fool!" The nky man’s ughter ceased abruptly, his eyes fshing with cold light. He tilted his head slightly, and the dagger whistled past his throat, embedding itself deep into a tree behind him. At the same time, Wolf’s cwed hand, now within half a meter of the man, suddenly slowed as if caught in an invisible force. A nearly imperceptible bck ripple emanated from the nky man’s eyes, enveloping Wolf mid-air.
Wolf felt as though he had been plunged into thick mud. His movements slowed to a crawl, and even breathing became borious. His once superhuman speed was now reduced to a sluggish crawl.
The nky man casually reached out and grabbed Wolf by the throat. His seemingly frail hands cmped down with crushing force, causing Wolf’s neck to emit an ominous creaking sound as his vertebrae strained under the pressure.
"Idiot! You can’t beat me, and you’re too stupid to even try. Of course I’m going to py with your woman. I don’t even know how a waste like you got into the 'corpse collectors'!" The nky man ughed maniacally as he choked Wolf. To add insult to injury, the wild woman pressed her bare breasts against the man’s arm, rubbing them suggestively while giving Wolf a look of feigned ecstasy.
"Growl!" Wolf let out a deafening roar, his eyes burning red with fury. Despite being immobilized, his cwed hand began to inch toward the nky man’s head, slow but determined.
The nky man watched with amusement, his expression one of mockery. "Oh, are you getting angry now? Impressive for a former golden wolf warrior. Even under my psychic field, you can still move. But enough pying—time to send you to hell. Oh, and don’t worry, I’ll make sure to leave your corpse for the zombies. You’ll slowly rot away in their putrid bodies, turning into nothing but waste. Hahaha..."
