Jeremiah had locked himself in the upper room.

He had a good view of the outside, and could see soldiers running around and even some fighting occasionally occurring.

He had to ensure that nobody noticed him, so he made sure to be excessively careful whenever he took a peek.

Time passed, and he spent each moment thinking about his situation.

What his next move would be.

However as the time passed, the gunshots and the bombings didn't cease.

'I thought that it would just be a couple days... but it looks like our boys are fighting back pretty well.'

However, eventually the bombings stopped.

Soon enough, enemy soldiers had surrounded the home, and Jeremiah found himself in a predicament.

'Are they not going to nuke this Town?'

A few days had passed, and the thirst was killing him.

'Shit... what do I do?'

He couldn't do a thing.

Going outside with so many enemies around him was impossible. Even if he was at full strength, fighting wouldn't yield him any results.

'Aren't they going to evacuate?'

That was right.

They would evacuate once they had decided that they could destroy this Town.

Which meant that he just had to wait and watch until that moment came.

'And when they leave... I will as well.'

However, the thirst was overwhelming him.

'What should I do?'

In the end, the man decided that he would head to the kitchen to get some water.

He would bring as many rations as he could up to the room where he would lay low.

Heading down the stairs as quietly as he could, the man looked down to see the body of the girl he had killed laying there without a blemish.

Rigor mortis had set in, and her skin was pale. All the blood had been drained from her, though she hadn't yet rotted.

As he saw this, the man realized that the woman was somewhat beautiful.

'A shame that she refused my offer.', he thought.

The man headed to the kitchen, grabbing what food and water he could obtain before returning to the bedroom.

----

A few more days passed, and not much had changed outside.

Fortunately, food and water was no longer an issue. This girl was likely hoarding it in the case of attack - perhaps she was some sort of pessimistic doomsayer who thought that a war was inevitable.

Of course, she would have been right.

'It's always the pessimists that are right, isn't it?'

With this thought, Jeremiah took another peek out the window.

'They really are taking their time... I wonder why they haven't left?'

There were groups of men who had been posted along the streets who would switch off in shifts, as if to ensure peace.

At this rate, there was no way he could escape.

'But they will retreat at some point. Our boys are just giving them trouble.'

The man told himself this, though whether such a thing was true or not he began to doubt.

Over the past few days, boredom had overridden his mind.

He had food and water, and past basic survival needs, boredom would overtake a person.

He would sit there in that room, doing nothing but watching the soldiers as they patrolled, hoping and praying that they wouldn't try to enter any homes.

They didn't, fortunately. Perhaps they considered it a waste of their time - further proof that they fully intended on blowing this Town to the skies as soon as they were done with it.

'But... shit...'

After days of sitting in that room without any stimulation, the face of the girl who he had killed popped up in the head of the man time after time.

He couldn't stop thinking of her.

'Maybe I shouldn't have killed her.'

She was stubborn, and she considered him to be nothing more than an invader.

Perhaps that was all he was.

'But... you bastards were the ones to start this war...'

At that moment, a tear came to the eye of the man, rolling down his head as he lay on that wooden floor motionless - not even allowing himself to move in order to preserve his energy.

'Maybe if we had talked... maybe...'

Suddenly, the man sat up.

'I should at least take a good look at her... to put the image into my mind...'

He was a soldier.

He was a man who had already slain thousands.

However in all of those scenarios, it was kill or be killed.

This was the first time he had ever killed a civilian.

'Of the woman I killed.'

And as he thought to himself over the countless hours that he was forced to sit in that room, the man realized the horror of what he had done.

This was not the same.

This was not the same as the hundreds of men he had shot in an equivalent exchange of bullets.

This was not the same as the slaughter of men who would fight back.

He had killed a woman in her own home, who had done nothing aside from speak back to him.

'What have I done?'

Walking down the stairs, the man witnessed the body once more.

She was rotting.

Her face was still quite recognizable, but she was clearly mushy now - the rigor mortis having passed.

Her skin was completely white, and if he even touched her it would likely cave in.

Yet even so, the man stood above the woman, carving her narrowly preserved beauty into his mind.

'I'm sorry.'

However in that instant, standing above the woman, a sinister temptation entered his mind.

One that shook his very being, making him question how he could even call himself human as he thought such a thing.

'No... I shouldn't.'

'I can't.'

'I won't.'

But even as he told himself these things, his body which had been deprived of sexual relief for so many days told him otherwise.

'Stop it...'

'STOP IT!!!'

The man moved without his own consent, as if a beast had overtaken him.

'NO!!!!'

And as if something else was in control of him, the man did as he pleased with the body of the woman, sobbing all the way as his tears fell upon the face of the girl.

For the beast which had overtaken him was none other than himself.

He had lost to his own desires - and never again would he be the same.

----

He had performed the action.

He had given into his selfish temptations, and had defiled the corpse of the woman he had killed.

Guilt could not even hope to describe the absolute disgust he felt with himself.

This man was repulsed by his very nature.

'A beast... that is all I am.'

Yet even filled with this disgust, as the time passed, the man felt the desire rise once more.

And so, once again, he fell into that horrible sin.

Again, and again.

The man couldn't stop himself.

Once he had fallen a single time, it was like an addiction had flooded out, overwhelming him with desire.

He was truly unable to control himself, reducing both his own dignity - and that of the girl he had killed - to nothing more than primitive monsters.

At this point, her face was no longer recognizable.

She wasn't even beautiful anymore - and a typical man would be disgusted as to how he could even get off to such a thing.

However this didn't stop him.

Day after day passed, and eventually, the soldiers left.

At that time, this man too left the battlefield - making his way into the woods and eventually fleeing to the South.

It was summer at the time, so the harsh snows were not present. He was able to make it back to his own nation without any issues.

The City where he left the body of the girl was destroyed, the evidence of his sin forever enveloped in the heat of the bombs.

However this was not where the man ended his story.

For from this experience, an irredeemable fetish had been born.

And so, eventually, the man found his way to the rank of General - but more so than that, he found his way to a particular man in the mafia - Gerard Stirling.

Thus, unable to ever curb his filthy desires, this man became a client of the basement level of the Paradise Hotel.

----

[He was powerless before you. You don't even have very good control over your ability, and the difference was this great. He wasn't even a weak human - his strength was real.]

Following the death of the man, Sylvia found her mind filled with the words of One - who had become more talkative than usual.

[He had combat experience and was able to locate you even when you had reduced your reflection of light to negligible amounts. His arm strength was great enough to break your wrist without effort, and his skill with a rifle was unreal.]

[But at the end of the day... he was just a normal human.]

With a sadistic pleasure in her tone, One seemed to be overjoyed at the results.

[This is the difference between a reawakened and a normal human.]

"There's also the fact that I have your regenerative powers.", Sylvia added.

[That too. But my point remains. Normal humans are terrifyingly weak - it's almost comical. I lived my entire life bowing to them, serving them, terrified of them - and yet they can be destroyed so easily. It's frustrating... but it's also satisfying.]

Sylvia sensed at that moment that One was smirking with all her being.

[To watch as these pitiful creatures slay each other over their own squabbles without any idea of just how pathetic they are.]

To this, Sylvia did not reply.

She neither confirmed nor denied the words of the creature within her, but instead merely stayed silent.

However it was not just her outward words that were silent, but even her own thoughts.

For truly, she did not know what she should feel.

Should she be angry at One's disturbed view on humanity?

Should she be angry at the scientist who made One this way?

Should she be glad that these disturbed people were dying around her?

She did not know.

Therefore - she took no opinion on the matter.

And she focused on the job she was tasked to do.

'At the end of the day... we have decided to kill these people.'

'Therefore... I will do so.'

However as she thought these things, a smile overcame the woman as she left that place with the look of a demon.

'Heh... but you know... there is a reason we targeted these people.'

'I won't ever claim that what we're doing is right.'

'But I certainly don't believe that it's wrong.'

----

'Well... I guess this place is pretty open, so it isn't hard to notice if anyone tries to sneak up on me.'

Kicking over a table before letting off a series of rounds into the zombies on the other side of it, Ector Stralgen was currently in the process of eliminating a horde in the middle of a food court.

A piece of the table fell out from the bullets which had carved a circle into it, revealing the set of bodies on the other side.

Immediately, the man turned around as he fired single shots in a one two three manner, slaughtering the three undead that had tried - and failed - to catch him off guard.

'I usually prefer to stay behind someone... but that isn't going to work right now.'

Cleaning up his enemies without breaking a sweat, the man reloaded his magazine as he continued.

However almost suddenly, as he mowed down a particular crowd - he stopped his firing for just a moment.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

For in the middle of a group of undead was a man with red hair who appeared to have a different look in his eyes than the undead around him.

"Who are you?"

Firing off single shots as he took out the zombies surrounding the man, Ector's rifle soon fell upon the red haired man who merely stood with a grin on his face.

Unlike all the zombies present, this man wore a suit - and he seemed to carry himself with pride as he walked forward.

"The name is Bradley. Bradley Vendetta. A pleasure to meet you. And you are?"

With this strange response, the man approached him with an unsettling confidence.

He had been standing in the middle of a group of undead - completely unfazed.

'How?'

The undead didn't attack him, nor did they seem to have any interest in the man. Why?

The undead weren't exactly the bloodthirsty monsters that were typical of most apocalyptic worlds. Some were passive, though others were more aggressive. If one didn't perform any strange actions, they might not have even known that a human was among them. But the moment one started acting like a human, they would notice and attack.

'In other words... he isn't human enough for them to recognize him as one?'

"I do have to thank you. I was in quite the predicament. I had to wait quite a while, suppressing all emotion while awaiting the time to escape those undead. You seem to have SAVED me from them."

With an unsettling bow, the man thanked Ector in a way that sent chills down his spine.

"Therefore... please allow me to repay your efforts in full."

"How... no. I won't even ask. Are you with the Bloodhounds?"

At the moment the word Bloodhound was spoken, the man's expression immediately became unfriendly.

"How do you know that name, if I may ask?"

This confirmed it.

Without a question, this man was a Bloodhound.

Were he not a Bloodhound, he would never have known that name. On the other hand, the fact that he hadn't immediately admitted it only breeded further suspicion that he was indeed involved in them.

"Ah, that? Well... it's quite simple, you see."

With a confident smirk, the man fired his weapon in quick succession as three bullets were fired into the legs of the man, who tumbled to the ground in pain.

"Ngh!"

Blood pooled around him as he placed one hand on the ground to support himself, now looking up to Ector with anger in his expression as he grit his teeth.

"I've come here because I've been hired to defeat you guys."

Placing the gun to the head of the red haired man, Ector smiled as he looked down upon the man with a grin.

"Don't hold this against me. It's just business. As you Capitalists would say."

Bang!

Though the weapon was silenced, the sound of the gunshot resounded through the cafeteria.

The body dropped to the ground, a cold expression overtaking it as the blood continued to form a puddle around the man.

"I should've gotten more information out of him."

"You know... it's always quite heartbreaking to see my Darling die a dog's death like that."

However in that instant as Ector turned away from the man, he heard a female's voice speak up from behind him.

Immediately turning around to find out who this new person was and where she came from, Ector was faced with a reality that could not have been possible.

For the red haired man he had just shot - his legs and head still riddled with bullets - was now standing.

And his face was no longer that of a man, but that of a woman.

Her eyes were darkened, the whites now black, and the pupils the color of blood.

And in her expression was a sadistic anger unlike anything this man had ever witnessed.

"But on the other hand... it is ever so satisfying... because it means I get to see the very same thing happen to the one who had the AUDACITY to harm my dear Husband in such a manner."

In that instant, the woman snapped her fingers, and the air shifted around Ector.

He didn't know what had happened, but he had an unprecedented premonition that something bad was about to happen.

"UGH!"

Spitting up blood, the man felt as if he had become a pincushion - a thousand needles having been stuck into him.

Looking down as he coughed up the blood - he realized that his body was filled with holes.

Bullet holes.

"Blurgh... but... how..."

The woman held no weapon.

She merely smiled, watching the man with pleasure as he endured such pain.

The man fell to his knees, unable to hold himself up as he planted himself face first into the tile floor.

"How... you might ask? Well it's really quite simple."

Looking down upon him as his hearing waned, the woman began to pace as she made circles around the man.

"I took my revenge."

Then pausing, she stopped right in front of him.

"An eye for an eye."

"A tooth for a tooth."

"A DEATH for a DEATH."

And crouching down, the man found himself face to face with the woman, who wore the outfit of a man.

And suddenly, perhaps he was delusional, but he heard both the voice of a man and a woman speak in unison.

"Yet for the number of lives you have ruined... even a thousand deaths would not be enough for a human like you."

And with the whispers of demons, the man and the woman both threatened in unison.

"Therefore... before you die... I will have you experience such things."

Even as his body erupted with pain from the immense wounds that lacerated him, the words of the two pierced him all the more.

"This is the revenge not only of myself... but of all those whose lives you made miserable."

At that moment, the man experienced a series of torments within his mind.

Torments horrid enough to make him scream - yet he was too weak to do so.

And in the matter of those few seconds, his mouth foamed up as the stimulation became too much for him to bear.

His beard soaked red in blood, the man's face fell once more as he died.

"There was a particular woman who wanted her revenge on you... and even if those memories have been erased for the others... you cannot hide a desire for revenge from me so easily."

Standing up, the woman walked away as she smiled, her face molding between that of the woman and the man.

"And with this... I will consider this request to be completed."

Suddenly stopping, the man - who now had taken over the body once more - looked back on the body.

"Ah, don't hate me for this. After all... this is just business."

----

Loyalty to the right person will yield rewards, but loyalty to the wrong person will only ever result in backstabbing.

The person you pledge your life to will determine whether the knife is in your hand, or your back.

This was the philosophy that Ector lived his life by.

A child brought up in the Soviet State of Joraten, from his early years he lived under the Communist rule which was initially established by Kraig Strax.

Small Towns were assigned a single Human Resource Officer, and large Cities were divided into sections, each of which were controlled by their respective Officer.

These Human Resource Officers had but a single task - to ensure that the citizens, who had been provided with all the equality and rights of their brethren, were fulfilling their duties to the government.

If a citizen was not performing well in their work, it was likely an attempt to sabotage their comrades by producing less - a punishable offense.

After all, if the others were working so hard, how could a single man sit back and relax while producing almost nothing?

Was this not the very definition of elite privilege?

Such was the society that Ector was raised in.

Everyone was equal. Everyone had the same rights. Everyone had the same responsibilities.

And if anyone tried to break that mold, then they were a REBEL.

Throughout his childhood years, many people disappeared, however Ector never particularly questioned the disappearances.

After all, anyone who disappeared must have been a rebel.

Someone who went against the Supreme Leader.

The Supreme Leader was a man that ruled over the nation, and led it to glory against the evils of the rest of the world.

He had protected his people from the wicked Stronvardians and the demented Vorathians, halting attacks and destroying anyone who tried to lay a finger upon his people.

The Human Resource Officers were the men acknowledged by the Supreme Leader as men of strong will and upright morals, who were deserving of serving such a man directly.

Therefore, going against a Human Resource Officer was to go against the Supreme Leader himself - for they were the ones who executed his will across the nation.

With this in mind, it was Ector's long lasting dream to become one of the Human Resource Officers.

On one particular day, he volunteered as a soldier, joining the army with this goal in mind.

However it was at war that he found out the truth about the Stronvardian dogs.

After numerous brutal battles, and witnessing so many comrades die at the hands of his enemies, the man realized that the propaganda he had been fed all his life was a lie.

The Supreme Leader wasn't the victorious warlord that he had been made out to be. He wasn't a hero on the battlefield.

How did he know this?

Because not once did that man ever show up to save those around him.

Yet, this truth didn't shake his patriotism. It only grounded it.

He realized that, while the Supreme Leader wasn't the ultimate being he claimed to be, that his propaganda was a means of controlling the people - so in a sense, he was just as supreme as he claimed to be.

By controlling the people with lies, he had managed to unite such an immensely large nation, doing with it more than any other man could have ever achieved.

And Ector respected that.

He continued to fight. He continued to struggle. He continued to watch comrade after comrade die at the hands of the enemy. And all the while, he continued to rack up the medals.

He was a man who was battle tested, having survived a thousand gunfights. Not once had his enemies managed to pick him off, and he eventually took command of numerous soldiers.

Until finally, he rose to the rank of Human Resource Officer.

The highest honor one could possibly achieve, even greater than General or Commander, only those who had displayed excessive loyalty to the cause were gifted with such a title.

He had earned this through his numerous battles. The number of lives he had sacrificed for it was insignificant.

Finally having been given this title, Ector was granted the opportunity to meet personally with the Supreme Leader - a man who was the successor to Kraig Strax.

Yosef Saldin.

He was granted the badge of honor, and assigned to a small Town called Malmus.

It was but a meek place, with only a few hundred people. In the far North, where the harsh winters would assault the people who lived there, it was somewhere that the Communist power had little authority.

And his goal was to change that.

This is where the story of Ector Stralgen begins.