"My boyfriend was killed here, and neither your hospital nor the police will give me an explanation! What about the bastard who killed him yesterday?! Where is he!? I'm not leaving until I get answers!"
As Novak entered the lobby of the Affiliated Hospital of De M-anila University, a shrill voice pierced the air, sounding like nails scraping against a blackboard. The sound made people instinctively uncomfortable.
"Where is that woman?! My boyfriend is dead! Where is she?!"
The chaotic scene caused Novak's frown to soften slightly. For a moment, he worried that the little nurse, Aria, who had helped him collect the virus sample, had been caught. But realizing this wasn't the case, his tension eased.
He pushed his way through the crowd, spotting a woman, roughly in her forties, sitting on the ground, shouting and creating a scene. Her face was twisted in bitterness, with a cunning glint that flashed in her eyes now and then.
Having encountered countless people in the apocalypse, Novak could immediately tell that this woman was causing trouble for money. It was clear that her relationship with her 'boyfriend' zombie is not good, or they have no relationship at all.
Because, when Novak had dealt with him the day before, there hadn't been anyone by his side. Otherwise, Novak wouldn't have been able to extract the zombie's blood so easily.
A mocking smirk crept onto Novak's face as he turned his gaze to the hospital administrator, who appeared helpless. The administrator noticed Novak too, just as a few older onlookers, who had witnessed the events of yesterday, exclaimed:
"Isn't that the young man from yesterday? Why is he here?"
How could he be walking around freely so soon?!
Anger flared in the crowd as people began to mutter. No one was a fool—they'd all seen what had happened. This young man had killed someone yesterday, and yet, here he was, released the very next day?
Some people subtly distanced themselves from Novak.
In the society of Faeloria, wealth and power had a way of making certain... inconveniences disappear. This young man, who had taken a life just yesterday but strolled about today as if untouched by guilt or consequence, could only be the son of an influential family.
No one wanted to cross someone like that.
The woman, still sitting on the ground, didn't seem to realize the situation at first. But as Novak approached, she quickly focused on him. This young man, handsome as he was, must be the one responsible!
"You murderer! Give me back my boyfriend's life!" she screamed, standing up abruptly. But then, she met Novak's gaze—a deep, cold stare that seemed to hold no emotion. His eyes were calm, indifferent, almost inhuman.
This lack of visible anger or any other emotion chilled the woman to her core. She froze, her bravado vanishing in an instant, too terrified to say another word.
Novak remained composed. His voice was low, intended only for her ears:
"Your boyfriend died by my hand. But I'm still standing here. Would you like to join him? I can arrange that."
It was a threat, plain and simple.
The woman stared at Novak in disbelief. This was supposed to be a lawful society!
But even she knew that laws were made by people and enforced by people. And some people could bend those laws to their will.
Her fear became palpable. She had figured out what was really going on.
Quickly, she stood up and backed away.
"No, no! I was wrong! My boyfriend died of illness! I'm sorry!" she stammered.
Without another word, the woman fled the hospital as though her life depended on it.
Novak's expression remained cold as he watched her disappear.
The wicked always get their just deserts.
He turned his attention back to more important matters—Aria's well-being was far more significant than this trivial confrontation.
Ignoring the shocked expressions of the bystanders, some of whom had started recording the scene with their phones, Novak walked away without a care in the world.
What he didn't notice was a pair of beautiful, curious eyes observing him from the edge of the crowd.
Novak reached the door of the nurses' duty room and paused, raising an eyebrow as he took in the scene.
In addition to Aria, there was another man present.
Bob glared angrily at Novak, but when he took a closer look, his confidence faltered.
Even as another man, Bob had to admit—this guy was just too damn handsome! But why was he after his target? There were plenty of women in this city far more attractive than Aria. Could it actually be... true love?
Novak ignored Bob entirely. His gaze softened slightly as he turned to Aria. His voice, however, was as cold as ever:
"Are you alright?"
It was a simple question, but the moment Novak spoke, Aria rushed over and clung to him.
After calming her down, Novak offered a reassuring smile.
"It's fine now," he said softly, before shifting his attention to Bob.
Novak, who had once been known as the White Demon Saint during the harshest days of the apocalypse, was used to people flattering him. Yet here, in the present, things were different. Even after that dramatic phone call this morning, Novak had never expected Bob to still pursue Aria so shamelessly.
Novak's gaze fell on Bob. The latter immediately looked away, guilt written all over his face.
Novak had never underestimated people's capacity for malice, and this situation was no exception.
A sneer tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Without another word, Novak took Aria's hand and led her out of the duty room. The staff restroom down the hallway was a quieter, more secluded spot—perfect for what he had in mind.
As they left, Novak glanced back at Bob, who was trailing behind them with a look of frustration on his face, but Novak couldn't care less. He had other things to deal with.
Once they reached the restroom, Novak casually threw a barricade in front of the door. He didn't even spare Bob a second glance as he pulled Aria—now blushing furiously—into the bathroom with him.
Bob, not wanting to give up, hurried after them. But the moment he stepped inside, Novak landed a solid punch to his gut, sending him flying backward like a ragdoll. Bob collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath.
Without a second thought, Novak dragged Bob into the bathroom like a dead dog.