"ah--!"
The crowd downstairs screamed in fright at the sudden appearance of the chunk of meat.
They stared at the chunks of meat, countless eyes filled with confusion.
The chunks of meat on the ground began to wriggle as if they had come to life.
Soon, one of the largest chunks of flesh sprouted scarlet limbs and a head that resembled a wolf or tiger but had no skin.
With a roar, it lunged straight at the nearest passerby.
The passerby didn't even have time to scream before being torn to shreds with a single slap.
Then, the remaining chunks of meat also turned into scarlet monsters, pouncing on the surrounding crowd like long-starved beasts.
People then realized what was happening and screamed as they fled in panic.
But how could these ordinary people possibly outrun these monsters whose average cultivation level reaches at least 'murder' when they've 'destroyed a city'?
Dozens of Hera clones began their own unique feast.
Humans are like lambs to the slaughter, easily hunted and preyed upon by them.
When they have consumed enough people and their energy reaches a certain level, they will also divide themselves to increase their numbers.
The original few dozen monsters quickly multiplied to over a hundred, then over two hundred...
The once bustling city was now covered in bright red blood and the screams of people.
Hera sat on the edge of the roof, watching everything quietly as if she were watching a play.
On the street.
Aikaren, wearing a hat, walked along the road that was already stained with blood.
All around, screams, sounds of fighting, and the grinding of bones and teeth rose and fell.
Along the way, you could see figures being chased by monsters and desperately running away.
But Aikaren walked on as if nothing had happened, just like before.
When a blood-red monster that was gnawing at him blocked his way, Aikalen was not afraid at all. Instead, he cautiously reached out and gently touched it twice.
The crimson monster stopped what it was eating and turned to look at Aikaren.
Those eyes, both terrifying and clear, seemed to ask, 'What are you doing?'
Aikalen immediately withdrew her hand awkwardly, shaking her head repeatedly at it.
"No, it's nothing, boss, please continue."
After saying that, he quickened his pace and hurried back.
'Wow, the boss's consciousness really is shared with the clone, so what about my scarf...'
He touched the scarf around his neck.
Ekalen knew that Hera's clothes were made entirely of her own flesh and blood.
The fact that Hera took off the scarf around her neck and put it on her means that the scarf is actually a part of Hera.
The consciousness of the clone and Hera is shared; that is to say, Hera is the clone, and the clone is also Hera.
Does wearing a scarf mean that I'm getting close to Hera...?
'Ah, no, no, what am I thinking, you filthy person!'
It's just a scarf; the boss certainly wouldn't add any special meaning to it for no reason!
Aikalen quickly stopped his thoughts and forced himself to calm down.
He walked back to his rented room and frowned slightly as he looked at the door stained with blood.
Insert the key and open the door.
The familiar little house reappeared before my eyes.
As was her habit, Ekalen closed and locked the door, turned on the light, but did not draw the curtains.
He sat in the gaming chair for a moment, lost in thought, then got up and lay back down on the bed.
"Forget it, I'm not playing games anymore, I'm exhausted..."
My first real-life kill was exhausting, both physically and mentally.
He quietly took off the scarf and placed it in front of him, muttering to himself.
His throat bobbed slightly, and he couldn't resist bringing it close to his nose and taking a deep sniff.
"Hera smells so good."
This scarf is completely Hera's signature scent; I really love it.
He muttered to himself, and Hera's lovely and charming appearance slowly appeared in his mind.
His body gradually felt hot, so he folded the scarf, placed it aside, and turned to look at the toilet paper on the bedside table.
'How about... just one last time?'
He pondered for a moment, then slowly reached for the toilet paper.
But just as he held the toilet paper in his hand, he gritted his teeth and threw it out the window.
"I'm such a pervert! How could I do something like that to the boss!"
His face flushed, and he immediately burrowed into the blankets and covered his head.
...
Inside the underground shelter in City B.
The surviving men, women, and children of the city all gathered here for refuge.
The huge shelter now seemed a bit crowded.
The survivors collapsed to the ground, huddled together, sharing the apocalyptic pressure and fear.
"Hold on, hold on, right now!"
A young-looking female nurse wearing glasses is treating the wound of a man whose right hand has been severed.
Behind the man were many other injured people, and their injuries were quite serious.
They were either missing limbs or lying on stretchers, being carried by others.
In this already oppressive atmosphere, the mood at the scene became even more somber.
"Sister...will we die?"
The nurse, who had just finished bandaging the wounded soldier, suddenly felt her clothes being tugged.
Turning my head, I saw a little boy, not even ten years old, hugging a teddy bear and looking up at me with teary eyes.
The teddy bear was mostly stained red with blood, but the little boy still didn't let go, as if he were holding onto his only pillar of support.
The nurse stopped what she was doing, pondered for a moment, then smiled and nodded to the little boy.
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