The creature moved slowly—each step heavy, breath shallow.
Its body was massive, towering like a three-story house. Twin red horns curved out of its wolf-like skull, and its massive paws dragged sharp, bloodstained claws.
Kaito's eyes darted.
It's wounded… dying. That fall—it wasn't from a leap. It was thrown… by something stronger.
A drop of blood rain landed in the creature's eye. It roared, shaking its head violently.
Kaito noticed the fresh scar across its other eye.
Blind… it can't see us clearly now.
But the beast wasn't giving up. It lunged forward, driven by instinct.
Kaito tensed. The cave was narrow. He shifted his unconscious mother onto his back—right side.
Its fangs are tilted left. If I stay right…
The beast's claw tore into the cave's left side, just as predicted.
Kaito punched its fang with everything he had.
Crack.
Agonizing pain shot up his other arm—broken. Again.
Blood poured from his fingertips. His breath came in ragged gasps.
But the blow had worked. The beast's claw veered off-course—harmless.
It collapsed seconds later, lifeless, blocking the cave's entrance. Its body radiated heat, warming the space.
Rain still poured through the damaged ceiling, but the creature's massive bulk sealed the front.
Kaito slumped forward, his body trembling. His chest rested against the broken edge of the cave. His right arm dangled, blood dripping from it. Still, he smiled faintly.
We're safe… for now.
Behind him, his mother hugged him tightly, eyes shut.
"It's alright now," he whispered, patting her head with his remaining good hand.
She didn't speak—but her grip tightened.
Kaito exhaled slowly, watching the blood rain drip from the beast's carcass.
You're lucky, Mom. Dad and Grandpa protected you… and now it's my turn.
They wore matching green pajamas—a strange comfort in this cruel world.
Kaito removed his top and handed it to her. She blinked, confused, cheeks coloring slightly.
"Not because you need it… but I have to dig into its chest."
She nodded quietly and covered her eyes.
Kaito picked up a jagged rock.
His hand had mostly recovered—this body was four times tougher now—but it still ached.
He stabbed.
The stone barely pierced the surface—just a nail's depth.
"Tch… just as I thought."
He stabbed again, using his full strength. His broad shoulders strained. Sweat poured.
Kaito thought of his father—who vanished when he was seven—and of his mother, who raised him alone while running a company.
He remembered how she never once hit him. How soft she'd been. Too soft.
He once felt useless—just a spoiled kid. So he trained.
Bodyweight workouts. Strength yoga. Breathwork.
By sixteen, he became someone reliable. But in the process, he grew distant. Alone. A ghost.
After over an hour, he finally reached it—the core.
A glowing red gem, no larger than a fingernail, nestled in the heart.
He hesitated.
If I eat this… I might pass out. Maybe worse.
He calculated. The blood rain would last four more hours. It had only been three since the world collapsed.
In his father's memories, he recalled: when this world consumes another, 90% of life turns into monsters. Only those with a strong will survive.
If someone's will wasn't strong enough, they would be teleported to a safe zone.
Kaito was still here.
Which means… I'm strong enough. And Mom… she is too?
He glanced back at her. She sat silently, knees tucked under her chin.
He smiled faintly.
You're stronger than I ever knew.
He brought the core to his mouth—and swallowed it.
Pain exploded through him.
His vision blurred. Blood poured from his eyes, nose, ears—every orifice.
He staggered toward his mother. She saw his condition and rushed over, catching him as he collapsed.
"Mom…" he whispered, eyes fading. "Take care of me… just two or three hours…"
She held him tight, tears welling in her eyes.
"I will," she whispered. "Even if it costs me everything… I will protect you."